#deny vehemently that she has anything at all to do w it-- something i had not thought of until right then&realized the time my then bf

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

#when i was growing up my mom Only gave me incredibly inappropriate advice lmao. #i was raised by my toxic high school best friend-- except she was like that my whole life lmao. #she told me once to corner this girl i had problems w in the bathroom during class one day&beat the fuck out of her #&if i did to call my mom before i did it so she could call school&tell them she was taking me the period before so i had an alibi lmao. #she gossiped about me to my friends when she was angry w me-- something that actually ruined my life in a real way #when she was angry at me so she told a friend of mine i was cheating on my boyfriend at the time so that 'friend' told him #(she just wanted him to know he deserved better&she was there for him if he needed someone to talk to :)) #&he beat me almost to death+threw me off the back of his motorcycle lmao. #when i mentioned that he thought i was cheating on him to my mom bc of a friend telling him i was my moms immediate response was to #deny vehemently that she has anything at all to do w it-- something i had not thought of until right then&realized the time my then bf #thought i cheated on him my mom was the only person who knew i had gone out. shed actually threatened to tell him herself #bc i was out bc i was arguing w her at the time lmao. #every memory i have of that woman makes me feel queasy lmao. #every time she yelled at me&told me i was depressing&i ruined everything w my horrible attitude. #the time she told me she didnt want to wait for me while i was limping up stairs bc she was in a bad mood&we were late for a movie #she wanted to see so she literally stomped her foot before yelling at me to hurry up lmao. #every time she called me selfish&cruel&insisted that the problem in every relationship i had was me #ESP the relationship i had w her. #i miss my mom sometimes. i hate my mom a lot of the time. #but more than anything i am just so fucking grateful she's out of my life. #i dont think ive changed a whole lot at my core throughout my life but im absolutely positive cutting her out of my life made it possible #for me to be a better person just in general.

[luvtak]

here, there, and everywhere ✦ lee felix

✦ pairing felix x gn!reader

✦ genre/tw angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, jealousy, a little bit of tears lol, two people so in love it's disgusting and perfect, pet names galore, kissing, obnoxious attempts at being poetic, being in love is complicated and sad and also simple and wonderful!

✦ w/c 1234

✦ a/n ginger write something other than hurt-comfort challenge failed. i wrote half of this with no motivation three weeks ago and the rest in an hour, i hope you like it LMAO! reader and felix were written as the same couple from baby i'm yours, but you don't need to have read it to understand this at all!! as always named after one of my favorite songs, its so easy to write for felix, he really is a love song come to life<33

masterlist

Sometimes you wonder if Felix know’s how precious he is; sweet and soft-hearted; void of any ill intent or toxicity, a boy oozing love. 

He’s a wonderful son, a charming brother, and an even better friend–syrupy sweet and unbelievably likable to anyone who comes into contact with him, and most of the time that's a blessing, but it can also be a curse. 

Of course he’s stunning and lovely, and rationally you know you shouldn’t be upset. That girl at the restaurant meant nothing by looking at him, meant nothing by smiling and definitely was not hitting on him when she asked if you were his partner. At least that’s what he says, vehemently denying and believing that this stranger had no ill-intent, but you know better. From the minute she blinked her pretty eyes at him, you knew she was flirting, and nothing could convince you otherwise. Not your boyfriend's warmth pressing into yours or the moonlit smiles he sent your way, nothing. 

You can tell it’s making him sad, this quiet, jealous version of you. You wish you could stop it just to ease his concern, but the green poison is sitting deep in your belly, and you’re positive if you open your mouth nothing good will come from it. 

He’s so lovely and you hate that other people can tell. Your love has always been so private, so deep and true it could only be described as intimate. Sometimes, you forget that he exists outside of his place next to you, forget that other people can see him and fawn over his heaven made features. 

“I love you, you know.” His voice is shaky, nerves surrounding his every move. You hate to hurt him; hate second guessing every word he says and every glance he’s given to pretty waitresses, but sometimes quiet love is harsh. Sometimes the intimacy of love behind closed doors creates gaps for someone to pass through, and on nights where your trust ebbs, you really wish your love was loud. 

You wish you could show it to others, tell anyone who could be listening how much you loved him, but you can’t. Maybe at first it was his job, but slowly, over time you had to learn that loving Felix had to be tender–his heart had to be held like a flower, too tight and you’ll crush the petals. It’s why it feels so wrong to be jealous, he would never do anything to hurt you; physically and emotionally, he would keep you safe. 

When you arrived home, sulky and pouting and praying to any god who would listen to you, please, please take these thoughts away, Felix looked at you and knew it was time to intervene. Pressing you close to his heart and rubbing slow circles on your back. 

“I know, I love you too.” 

“No, I mean it, baby. I love you.” He enunciates the words, emphasizing his point with three kisses on your brow. You relish in his affection, it comes so easy to him… for Felix love is simple, it’s blowing out candles and mornings spent sharing heat, buying warm gloves and letting you hog the covers. Felix was made to love, grew up cherished and treasured and now he treats his people the same. 

Mostly, he was made to love you as quietly or as loudly as you wanted him too–he could be your sun, scorching and bright and all encompassing, or he could be your moon: big and beautiful and comforting.

You know he loves you, and hearing him say it doesn’t release the green monster from your belly, but it does remind you how lucky you are that this star boy chose you. 

Your shaky arms tighten around his torso and the fast beat of his heart releases the tears waiting at your waterline. Something about his honest truth breaking and mending your heart all at once. 

“I’m sorry, Lixie, I wish I could love you as good as you love me… you’re everything, maybe if you were less I could talk about it more, but it’s true I love you so much.” The tears are fast now, racing down your cheeks like raindrops on a window, and you think he’s crying too. All ten of his fingers are clutching at you, holding onto you for dear life and you don’t think he’ll ever let go… god please don’t let him ever let go. 

“I’m not going anywhere, my love, I promised a forever didn’t I?” you could never forget the memory, his pinky wrapped around yours and crossing his heart that he’d stay. He’s an earnest boy, as honest as they make them, and he’s never broken a pinky swear.

In many ways it makes you sad that one pretty girl made you feel like this, you can be insecure and unsure of many things, but never of him. It wasn’t the flirting or her twinkly eyes, it was her confidence in appreciating him: outloud and undeniable. Even after loving him so deeply for so long, you’ve found it difficult to scream it from the rooftops. Instead, you pack his lunch and make sure his hot cocoa won’t burn his tongue, you kiss him three times for luck, and you're always the first to praise him. No, you could never yell it out, but you’ve wished for him everyday and if he thinks it’s enough then it is. 

“Don’t worry about random girls, honey, my love isn’t fragile.” He says it with a fluorescent smile, so beautiful and so him that little by little it calms the wasps in your brain.

“I’m sorry, I was being silly. You’re just too pretty, I’m sick of other people being able to see you.” Through his tears, the star studded boy laughs–a big, body shaking laugh that takes you with it. Giggles through kisses and teeth clashing, too tight hugs that steal all the air out of your lungs and passing it back to him. 

This is love, quiet or loud, this is it–sharing breath and smiles and knowing he’s yours. 

You used to think people couldn’t belong to each other, but Felix’s heart is tied right to yours–chambers interlaced and arteries working together to keep you alive. Every bit of you is caged up with him, locked in tight together; dead-bolted and keys thrown away. You care for him quietly, but everything about your heart is loud–beating for him, faster and faster each day you share together. 

Releasing you from his hold and looking right into your heart-shaped eyes, he tells you not to be sorry; you’re too pretty to be sorry, baby and you know he’s making it better–Another kiss cure to mend the broken day. Soft smooches pressed all over your laughing face and down the side of your neck, a million ways to say thank you. 

When he releases you, he’ll be as bright as the sun–he’ll nurse your heart back to health and tuck you in tight under the covers. Humming sweet songs and hoping you have sweet dreams, three kisses goodnight for each year you’ve spent together. 

Tomorrow, he’ll tease and joke and love you endlessly, his devotion is as blaring as yours is hushed; changing your life with a wave of his hand and reminding you everyday that to love is to make magic–wishing on every constellation atop his nose that forever comes quick.

© luvtak

#skz fluff #skz angst #felix x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #felix fluff #felix angst #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #felix #skz #lee felix #skz felix #✧ drabble

[dameronology]

natasha romanoff relationship alphabet

requested by anon!

a - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o?

for nat, her main love language is protecting you. you're literally the most important thing in her life and given how dangerous her job is, ensuring you're safe is her main priority. expect her to steal you some hella cool weapons and teach you basic (or even advanced) self defence. she'll also text you to make sure you're okay during the day and she'll never go to sleep until you've texted to say you're home safe.

b - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed?

s l o w l y. this is the black widow we're talking about, so she would have spent a very long time trying to deny her feelings for you. once she's admitted them to herself, admitting them to you doesn't seem so hard, but it probably would have taken a lot of advice from more reasonable minds - i.e sam & steve - to guide her. the thing about natasha is that once you've got her, you've got her, so it's changed in the sense that she's gone from hiding her feelings for you to laying herself bare. no buts, no coconuts. she's yours.

c - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open close, or would they rather keep the mystery?

nat probably tried to keep the mystery at first, but it's so much energy. she's happy to just live as her true self in front of you so don't be surprised if you start most your days complaining to her about the ginger hair she's left all over the shower.

d - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer?

dates aren't the most important thing for nat -- she loves spending time with you on the daily but designated date nights aren't her priority. with that said, if she does do them, they'll be super lowkey. it'll either be a movie night in with takeout, or she'll surprise you on your lunch break.

e - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question?

i don't get the vibes that nat would want to get married - if anything, she's more likely to go into a long ass speech about how relationships don't need to be legally binding to mean something, and it's all just a capitalist lie and...yeah, you stopped listening at that point. but the main take away is, it's not essential to her. but if you really, really wanted to get married, and if it was a very significant thing to you? she'd do it in a heartbeat.

f - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship?

trust. natasha has gone her whole life not knowing who to trust and without anyone to turn to. she's naturally suspicious of everyone around her so she would need absolute and complete faith in her s.o, because you are the one person she never wants to question.

g - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

by opening up to you. it's something that nat rarely does, but it shows how must love and trust she has for you.

h - home. a random domestic headcanon.

everyone pictured natasha's apartment being like...a concrete box, but it's actually amazing. everything is colour co-ordinated and aesthetic and it's cluttered, but in the best way.

i - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it?

if you went behind her back or betrayed her, that would be it. the minute she stops trusting you is the minute it's over - and while she could never fully stop loving you, nothing in the world could fix it.

j - jokes. who’s the funny one?

it's a tie. nat has a more deadpan sense of humour, but she always makes you laugh.

k - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type?

nat does this thing when she kisses you where she puts a hand on the back of your neck and gives it a light squeeze when she wants to make it deeper, and she loves biting on your lower lip to tease you before quickly pulling away - especially if you're about to go and meet the others or go to a meeting - because she knows it'll be on your mind for the rest of the day

l - longing. who’s the clingy one? how are they with long distance?

nat can deal with long distance, and she has to, because of her job, and she can absolutely be the clingy one when she's in the right mood.

m - marriage. do they wanna get married?

see engagement! i accidentally covered it there

n - nicknames. what ones do they like?

she likes babe, sweetheart and darling

o - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key?

definitely more low-key. everything about natasha is on the down low and super sly, so her love is no different. she doesn't really do grand displays of affection but she absolutely does show her love for you through more intimate and personal actions.

p - picture. what’s their favourite picture of them and their s.o?

it's actually one of just you; one halloween, the team decided they all had to go as a respective avenger and you ended up going as steve. there's a picture of you holding his shield and drinking pimms from his helmet and it's been her phone background ever since.

q - quintessential. what is one they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what’s a deal-breaker for them?

mutual respect. you respect her and she respects you. if she ever had to deal with anything that even slightly compromised her respect for you or for herself, that would be it.

t - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them?

she's vehemently against matching tattoos, but she would definitely get a small one for you - maybe something on one of her fingers, or her ankle

u - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult?

nat is the least difficult person ever. she's so understanding of you & your feelings and she will always respect them and go out her way to help you if you need it.

v - vases. do they buy flowers?

always!! at least once a week.

w - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down?

nat has travelled a fair amount because of her job, but it was always for the wrong reasons. she would absolutely love to go on actual vacations/holidays with you - for example, it's her dream to go to the south of france to sun bathe, and not to chase an international criminal. as for settling down, she absolutely would. it might take a while for her to feel like she's ready to retire, but once she has, your her whole future.

x - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories?

no actual legit exes, but definitely a couple one night stands that became obsessed with her.

y - you. favourite thing about their partner?

the fact you feel like home. nat's life was so uncertain for so long that the stability you bring is beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

z - zeal. how excitable are they? who’s the calm one?

nat is absolutely the calm one (she's literally been trained to be). she is a rock. she is an i-i-island.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff headcanons #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers heacanons #avengers imagines #marvel imagines

[shintorikhazumi]

Two is company, Three's a Crowd, but Four is the Death of Diana Cavendish (4): Dumb and Dumbass

A/N: Sorry for not writing enough recently. Been burnt out and have some terrible writer’s block. Hope I can write quite a bit these next two weeks before classes start up again. Had my finals recently and just... ugh.

Sorry for the not-so-good chapter.

Right. Tagging people. Uh @komatsuna-yuki @dianacavendishisgay @tanuki-pyon. Thank you for supporting my madness.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Two is company, Three's a Crowd, but Four is the Death of Diana Cavendish (4): Dumb and Dumbass

"This is dumb."

"It is not! Right, Barbara?"

"This is dumb."

Diana switched her exasperated gaze between the pair who had their arms crossed, vehemently against her "step one" of  the plan: Proper Courtship for Miss Kagari Atsuko.

There was absolutely NO way they were doing that.

Hannah ran a hand through her curled locks, freeing it from her signature yellow bow as they got ready for bed. She tried to ignore Diana's pleading eyes, but ultimately could not. She took one look at Diana's helpless face and sighed, walking forward to pinch her nose and plant a kiss on her forehead.

Really, courtship wasn't the issue in and of itself. It was Diana's view of courtship. There were just too many things to be said about it.

Starting from the issue of daily sending a truckload of roses to Akko every morning.

Literally.

She lived in a DORMITORY for crying out loud!

How was she supposed to receive them, much less keep them around??

It wasn't as though she had the luxury of living in a flat a little too big for just its occupants- just like their own right now. Hannah sighed, giving Diana a look. She received an indignant one in return.

Physical constraints aside, how would Akko feel receiving such an overwhelming gift? She already exploded in embarrassment from the simplest of flirtations. Who knew what her reaction would be to such a grandiose gesture of affection?

Hannah concluded it would be best to keep it simple, walk it slow. Ease into the already shocking situation they'd kiiindd of threw her in.

Okay, but Hannah didn't desire anything too slow either. Just right. Enough that Akko wouldn't spontaneously combust beyond recovery.

Holding out a pointer finger, with the other arm crossed about her waist, Hannah warned, "I swear, if I see even one petal, we're not talking to you tomorrow. And we're taking Atsuko with us too".

"One petal?!" Diana gawked at her with such pure incredulity, Hannah wondered if she was really all that shocked.

The look on her face almost made Hannah reconsider. Almost. She thought about it again, pausing and tapping her cheek in contemplation.

"Okay."

Diana's face lit up in hope.

"Maybe I'll allow two."

Nope.

//

"Morning, Atsuko~."

Akko jumped in her seat as she felt cool arms snake around her neck from behind, a soft weight pressing against her back. The scent of honeysuckle permeated her sense of smell. It was fruity and warm; like hints of honey and ripe citrus on a summer's day. For some reason, it made her calm immediately.

Turning around, Akko tried to return the greeting. "M-Miss Engl-" A finger quickly hushed her lips, Hannah's coy smile settling in while Akko's heart became unsettled. She didn't think it was in a bad way.

"Hannah. Call me Hannah."

"Mi-"

Akko would have tried to gently deny that request, not being one to so quickly drop formalities as was her upbringing before coming to England. However, there was just something in Mis- Hannah's eyes that compelled her to not even try to fight against the command.

"Y-you can call me Akko then,, .I-if you want! Only... if you want... it's... it's what my friends call me...""  Akko mumbled in reply, voice growing smaller and smaller as she shyly pried her eyes away from the magnetic hazels that were so keen on pulling her in.

She had missed the way her companion grinned, leaning in closer to her, arms tightening about her. "Adorable." Hannah playfully whispered into Akko's ear, the tips reddening brightly.

'Save me.'

"Oh, but we don't want to be just 'friends'." Barbara suddenly popped up, positioning herself right in Akko's line of vision, propping her elbows on her desk, face nestling in her hands comfortably as she smirked at Akko with a little wink. "But you already know that."

She watched as Hannah and Barbara shared a quick, sweet kiss as a good morning greeting. Eyes glinting as they caught Akko watching them.

"Oh? Do you want a nice "hello~" as well, Akko? I wouldn't mind~." Barbara grinned, fingers tilting Akko's chin up already, eyes flickering between Akko's own and her lips.

Akko felt her face burn that extra bit more. She wasn't going to make it through class like this if they kept teasing her so early in the morning.

Barbara was beginning to lean closer and closer as Hannah simply watched from behind Akko, inadvertently keeping her in place due to their positions.

Akko swallowed nervously. Sure, she did not necessarily have any qualms against kissing someone as pretty as Barbara. Even Hannah maybe, but at the very least, she wanted to have her fi-first kiss with...

"Girls."

Diana's arrival shook Akko out of a trance she had unknowingly been placed under. She had somehow expected, at the back of her mind, for Diana to arrive soon as the trio was rarely apart except for when they had separate classes.

Akko felt her heart do a little flip in her ribcage, breath stilling in her lungs at the refreshing sight of Diana in a ponytail, a pale nape and a slender neck exposed for the world to see. A bead of sweat rolled down the smooth expanse. Had it been hot outside? Maybe. For some reason, Akko just wanted to lean into the crook of Diana's neck and maybe-

Diana's cough told her she'd been staring an uncomfortable while. Akko flinched, her hand instinctively reached up to touch her bangs, smoothing out each strand of hair nervously in attempts to redirect her thoughts- wherever they were heading.

This was neither the time nor place to be having such... inappropriate musings.

"Aww~ Diana's so lucky to be the favorite girlfriend~." Barbara said with a pout as she observed the awkward two, pulling away from her initial position on the desk and walking around to take a seat next to Akko instead, leaning her head on the girl's shoulder.

"Right?" Hannah sighed, finally releasing Akko as she went to sit next to Barbara. "We put in all this effort to fluster our dear Akko, but Diana just has to breathe and she has her heart and her soul. Oh Barbara~ whatever shall we do?" She sniffled, wiping away a non-existent tear with her index finger.

Akko stared at the pair, mind short-circuiting at a particular word.

Diana was silent as well.

Hannah and Barbara exchanged a confused look at the lack of reaction, as well as Diana's frozen state.

"Um... did we perhaps say something wrong?" Hannah began nervously, not wanting to possibly offend Akko or hurt her like they could have the last time.

Barbara bit her lip, equally anxious. "If so, then-"

"G-girlfriend?!" Diana and Akko had burst simultaneously, earning looks from the few early students around them.

Akko bowed in silent apology as she turned back to her companions.

"W-what do you... what are you...?"

"Huh?" Hannah and Barbara tilted their heads in confusion.

"Eh?"

"What?"

"G-Girlfriend...?" Diana repeated, vision swirling as her face reddened.

"Aahhh..." Hannah and Barbara got the message, nodding... before doing a double-take. "Wait, we're not? Girlfriends?"

//-//

Akko slammed her head onto her locker door right after shutting it. She shuffled her subject materials for the next class in her hands, trying to check if she missed bringing anything, sighing heavily all the while.

She was lucky her second class was away from everyone else's. That gave her some breathing room to recollect herself.

Hannah and Barbara were way* too skilled at riling her up. She had no idea how to deal with them. She was sure she wouldn't get used to their antics anytime soon. The whole situation with them spun her wheels around so well, it was actually tiring her out.

Then there was the matter of being g-girlfriends, and Diana.

Diana...

"Diana..." Akko's head banged against her metal door again with a clang, a few passing students casting her worried gazes. "What the hell..."

When was it, she wondered, that she had first taken notice of the incredibly gorgeous biology major. Diana with her clear blue eyes like the oceans and the sky at the peak of a beautiful summer; her hair that flowed down to her waist in flourishing curls; Diana and her sharp and classy style; Diana and her shapely body- Akko hit her head once more against the locker, groaning against the cool metal.

"What the hell am I thinking about?" She muttered, pushing herself away from her locker to get ready to head off to the next class. Maybe she should just keep her mind off of it for now, focus on what was in front of her, and deal with it later. When her head cooled down.

Yes. That was the perfect plan.

Before she could leave, however, a hand slapped against either side of her head, a the impact causing a ringing sound in her ears that only added to her headache. Her eyes that she had unconsciously shut fluttered open, widening at the sight that greeted her.

Oh, this was just great.

"Oh, I don't know, Kagari. What *were you thinking about? Hmm?" That familiar snarky tone of voice bit at her, a hand resting on her shoulder before pressing her into the hard metal.

"Chloe..." Her weak response coupled with a glare only made the perpetrator grin happily.

"Atsuko~ our cute little lackey." Short-haired and short-tempered towards Akko was Avery trailing behind the Frenchwoman- the actual lackey, Akko thought.

"Geh- Avery..."

"Glad you're happy to see us." She rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum as she picked up a paper Akko had dropped in her surprise, flipping through its contents, bored. "Our lackey seems to have been doing good in school lately. Doing her homework and all. Guess you could do ours too?" She smiled that sickly sweet way that Akko loathed.

Akko's breath hitched when she made a little tear on the sheet just to spite her. Finnelan was surely going to chew her out again for a reason she couldn't explain.

Akko grit her teeth, truly wanting to retaliate physically, but then remembered that they weren't in high school anymore. These girls had no real power over her. Not then, not now. She needed to just ignore it and walk away. Really. Years and years of this, and they never got sick of it? Why did the universe allow them to apply to the same university anyway? Not that it mattered anymore.

Resigning herself to a -hopefully- more peaceful exit, Akko sighed, attempting to move Chloe's hand away with only enough force not to trigger her more. "I'm not your lackey." She said, kneeling to the ground to grab her other scattered materials.

"Aww, you're not?" Chloe whined, watching Akko like a hawk.

"I'm not." Akko replied, standing up and throwing them a blank look. "I have to go. See you."

"Leaving so soon?" Some girl she didn't know called after her, sneer evident in her tone. "Not gonna entertain us for a little longer?"

"Obviously." Akko responded, not looking back. She just needed to get the hell away as fast as possible and avoid any further interaction with them.

"Oh, then you wouldn't mind if we told the entire school about how you're always off to a strip club."

Akko halted in her steps, turning around to stare hatefully at the evil grin Chloe sported after knowing she got her way once more.

"Always, as in everyday?" Avery added, leading the group forward to surround Akko once more as other students avoided the potential mess in the hallway.

"What has that got to do with anything?" Akko grit her teeth, fists clenching "And I already told you... it's not what it looks like."

"Then why are you so scared, hmm? About word getting out?" Chloe tipped Akko's head up with her index finger, making her look directly into her eyes. "You know how they say that if you have nothing to hide, then there's nothing to be afraid of."

"That's-"

Akko swallowed the lump in her throat, searching her mind for a comeback to that without revealing too much about herself and giving these bullies more information to harass her with.

She had nothing.

They didn't like that she was quiet and had nothing to say.

She heard Chloe sigh before Akko's cheeks were squeezed together in her hands, nails digging into the flesh slightly. "Also, what was it? Your friend, uh... Lois or something."

"Lotte..." Akko corrected, barely managing the word out; she hoped they weren't planning on doing anything to her sweet friend. She could handle their insults, their disgusting behavior, and their petty tricks on her, but she couldn't stand it if her friends got hurt in her place instead.

"Whatever. Her." Akko slapped Chloe's hand away, earning her a pleased smile and a pat on the cheek. "There's the little tiger we love." She giggled, a glint in her eye.

Akko gripped her books in her hand, trying her best not to throw her fists right at them. The last time she had let her temper go, she was wrongly suspended anyway. She'd rather not have to live through the same sucky school experience again.

"So,"  Chloe continued. "you wouldn't want the entire school to read her disgusting work, right? Fanfiction? I can't remember it all that well. Couldn't stand to read that shit for more than five seconds." She made a gagging motion, tongue stuck out at Akko.

"Lotte... Lotte is amazing at writing..." She whispered, hoping they actually didn't hear those words. "Don't touch Lotte." She managed to say loud enough, raising her head to gaze upon them with a warning. It only seemed to fly over their heads as they all sashayed away from Akko, feeling like they'd won.

"Anyway, we'll keep your secrets for another day, Kagari." Chloe waved over her shoulder. "In exchange for our, ehem, considerate service, we expect cutlet sandwiches on each of our desks. Noon. Sharp." She commanded.

Akko, immediately recalling her class schedule for the day, wanted to protest. "But my class doesn't get out until-"

"Is that a no I'm hearing?" The group paused in their steps, all pinning Akko down with their looks of contempt, daring her to say anything besides their desired response.

Her fists trembled, knuckles as white as her torn assignment paper. She felt the quiver in her lip and the tension in her frame as she held back from screaming bloody murder.

"... I'll get you your damned sandwiches."

//-//-//

"Akko! What took you so long!" Akko's friend, Lotte, worriedly asked. "Finnelan usually comes in really early. You could have been in some major trouble!"

"Maybe she just got lost in the cafeteria again? Among all the donuts and pastries." Sucy drily replied, not looking up from her textbook.

Akko kept staring at her torn paper in dismay, pondering if she should risk it and start rewriting a new one, hopefully finishing before the professor arrived.

The lack of response only fed Lotte's concern even more. She squeezed Akko's shoulder to catch her attention and noticed her friend flinch.

"Akko?"

"H-huh? Oh! What? So-sorry. I was... I dropped my phone in the toilet, haha." Akko said, not looking at her friend at all as she dug around her bag for a pen and hoping for a clean sheet of paper as well.

"Wait, what? Is your phone okay?" Lotte asked, skeptically watching her friend's frantic movements.

"Yeah, yeah." Akko replied half-heartedly.

Lotte frowned, feeling that Akko was still hiding something. "What happened to your assignment?" She questioned, noticing the crumpled and torn edge. A thought came to her mind. "Was it them?" She asked in a quieter voice. "What did they say? Did they hurt you?" Lotte scanned over Akko's features, pupils shaking. They settled on her face and Lotte's frown deepened. "You're cheek..." She reached out, trying to touch it.

"Huh? N-no? It was... the school... cat...?" Akko tried lamely, moving away from Lotte. She instantly felt bad about it as Lotte sported a hurt expression in response to her actions.

"Akko..."

Akko finally faced Lotte, guilt on her features. She was never really good at masking her feelings from her friend. She could never lie to her. They both knew that.

"What was it about this time?"

Akko bit her lip. Despite how close they had gotten over the years as friends, Akko hadn't revealed too much to them about her background. She wasn't sure she was ready to either. Not anytime soon. She also couldn't find the heart to let Lotte know that part of it was about her.

"Just that I'm a dumbass, and the other typical stuff, y'know? Appearances and that kinda thing." She lied.

"Hmmm..." Lotte was clearly not convinced, but she let it go, knowing Akko wouldn't budge on things like this. She instead decided to  settle down in her seat next to Akko.

Akko knew Lotte wouldn't pry anymore. She was both thankful and sorry for having to do this to her friend, but she really couldn't help it.

Akko sighed, clicking her pen open.

"Want me to poison their lunch today?" Sucy piped up, flashing Akko a vial from her bag.

As much as Akko wanted to say yes, she knew it could only make things worse and reluctantly declined. "Maybe in my dreams." She smiled at her friends weakly, finally turning to her fresh sheet of paper to begin copying her assignment.

She missed the shine in Sucy's eye and the grin that was starting to grow on her face. Akko only looked up in terror as she heard the words that spilled from Sucy's mouth, hoping she wouldn't go through with any funny business.

"That can be arranged."

Akko felt a shiver run up her spine, whipping her head back to her paper to avoid that scary expression.

"Let's just... not."

"Tch. You're no fun."

Maybe she really wasn't.

A/N: I would have made this longer and added one more scene, but my brain cells can’t. Sorry haha. ;-; Really sorry. 

~Shintori Khazumi

#diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #hannah england #Barbara Parker #lwa #little witch academia #hanbaradiakko #diakko #hanbara #fanfic #234

[dracoladon]

Hi do you think you can write some domestic Christmas drarry because please? 👉🏻👈🏻

thank u my love for this prompt 😔 u can’t argue w because please. i’m very hungover and entirely devoid of the brainpower necessary to write anything proper, so instead i offer this little collection of thots i had about drarry on xmas day. this really is a braindump, so please excuse any errors in the spirit of christmas! 

explicit(ish), like 500 words or sumn

On Christmas mornings, Harry makes cinnamon buns. Draco sits on the kitchen counter and bothers him. “That’s not enough cinnamon, too much nutmeg, you’re overkneading it” (never mind that Draco has never so much as boiled a fucking egg for himself) until Harry banishes him to the living room, and has to cast wards around the tree so Draco doesn’t start opening presents without him. Draco’s no less of a brat than he was as a child, just better at hiding it. 

In the afternoons, attendance at the Burrow is mandatory. Draco dresses Harry in several garments he deems acceptable (usually something he gifted him that very morning, and never “those foul jeans. Take them off, I’m offended”) and they Floo over at twelve. Draco doesn’t like kids, but he’ll hold little Rose because “she’s a baby, and that doesn’t count” while they drink whatever cocktail George has invented for the occasion. Molly puts on a smashing spread, and Harry gets nervous, for some reason, when he sees Draco and Ginny talking, even though they’ve been friends for years. He says, “D’you think they’re talking about me?” and Ron says, “Good luck getting through the door with that fat fucking head of yours, Chosen One.” Hermione buys lovely and gorgeous and thoughtful gifts for everyone, and Draco vehemently denies enjoying himself for even a second. 

In the evenings, there’s only one Ministry worker in the Portkey Office, and the place is half-deserted. Where the few other travellers have newspaper clippings and empty water bottles, their Portkey is always something needlessly expensive, like a gold key or a heavy leather belt, and Harry tries not to grimace when the bloke hands it to him. Narcissa meets them at the gate in Lyon, ushers them through to the Apparition Point and then to her parlour for sugar cookies and mulled wine. She decorates beautifully, as fussy as Petunia used to be but not nearly as kitschy. Draco pinches Harry’s thigh when his tongue gets loose after a day of food and warmth and alcohol, and he says something completely inappropriate that makes Narcissa burst into purling laughter. 

At night, in Draco’s private chalet (spoilt, says Harry) on Narcissa’s property, they fuck. Drunk and full and just kind of wrapped around each other. Barely moving, quiet, and afterwards Harry makes far too many jokes about fucking on Christmas being some kind of sacrilege. Draco says, “Shut the fuck up, Harry,” but he says it all kind of sleepily, fingers murmuring along the brace of Harry’s ribs. 

#my writing #drarry #christmas!! #merry merry everybody #answered #loveglows

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

The Missing Guardian | Prologue: Act I Scene II | Mondstadt: The Outlander Who Caught The Wind

A.N. yay! second chapter! hope you guys enjoy and sorry for any typos! this chapter is also a day late :/ sorry again about that. im currently going through a lot family wise, but i wanted this to come out as soon as i could get it out. in compensation, you guys have another birthday character coming out and hopefully the first i love you prompt :D anyways, enjoy!

Word Count. 2,213 words

Page Count. 6.5 pages

TWarnings. cursing 

Synopsis. When you’ve finally found a home in a set of twins who travel across worlds, setting out to enjoy your time with them; learning everything you could while traveling from world to world. But this time was different, because this time, someone stood in your way from continuing forward, from going home. You watched as your family was torn from you once again, leaving you stuck in a world alone with only a guide, the memories of a life long left behind, and the hope of finding them once again.

[ Series Masterlist: The Missing Guardian Mini Masterlist ]

[ previous ] [ Act I Scene II ] [ next scene ]

        You smiled as your gaze looked out the window, the eternal abyss staring back as it was littered with the misty colors of turquoise, lavender, and many shades of rose- stars littering the rest of the scene in front of you. You leaned your head against the metal framing of the window, your hair cushioning you comfortably as thoughts sat still in your mind, your body calm as well.

        How long has it been since you were on the ship?

        "Hey kid, don't sleep with your neck like that- you'll mess it up" Quills voice rang out, but it sounded far away, muffled. You didn't know if it was cause of your tiredness or your spaced out state, but you couldn't seem to care by that point. You felt thick gloves move around your neck, the other moving under your knees, before a huff and some grumbling.

        "I don't know what you'll do without us, but even then," He sighed, carrying your body to the closest area where you could rest properly under his gaze, on the plush rest area in the cabin, allowing him to navigate the stars while keeping you near- though he'd vehemently denied it at any and every comment about it, the Guardian had grown attached to you, finding a child in you where you found a father in him.

        "I don't think I want you leaving the nest so soon."

        "As we all know, poetry and language flow like the wind. There'll definitely be someone there who knows about your friends. At least, that's what Paimon thinks!" Your guide chimed, hovering in front of you as you both made your way down the side of the hill, the vibrant and thick greens of the grass and trees were only further complimented by the sun- this place definitely was beautiful. You didn't feel warm, or overheated, which surprised you, especially with how bright the sun was. The cool breeze was constant in this place, giving an Autumn chill to a Spring setting, at this rate you'd think you'd need your body suit to warm you up.

        "Whether the gods actually answer you is a different story. You never know unless you try. So let's hop to it!" You can practically feel her smile, her small head turning back to you, Paimon's small body bouncing up at how you were listening to her so intently. By the time you reached the statue, she started to cross again, having the privilege of floating while you... did not.

        "You can swim right over! Don't push yourself though!" 

        "Let's just hope I don't sink with all the gear I have... or get electrocuted." You joked, walking into the water till your hot waist level, deciding at that point swimming was best.

        "W-what? Don't just jump in then!" She shouted, still loud as ever in that tiny body of hers, floating above you with a worried look on her face.

        "I'm fine, I'm fine. My gear is all waterproof, so there isn't an issue there." You huffed, climbing onto the shore of the tiny island before shaking off the water and straining what you could, lightening your load as much as allowed. 

        "See? All good."

        "Well don't joke like that! Paimon doesn't know what she'll do if anything happens to you... Paimon doesn't even wanna think about it!" She exclaims, a hand to her head, her face still concerned. You sighed, a small smile coming to your face before you took a small hand into your own, rubbing the soft skin to soothe her.

        "Alright. I'm sorry about that joke, I won't make any of those types again, alright? I'm not going anywhere. Not without you, Paimon." You smiled, sincerity in your voice, making her smile and nod her head.

        "Good! Paimon’ll make sure to keep that in mind for the future."

        "I'll hold you to it." You smirked, walking up to the statue, finding interest in the large golden plate. You reached out, taking the glove off your hand to get a proper feel of the metal, before taking a step back in shock. The statues' indentations lit up and aquamarine, the one you were so used to seeing outside of terrestrial planes, before a deep thump resounded in your head- much like a heartbeat. A small swirl of wind danced around the statue before the orb held in place started to glow, small particles combing in the center before forming a small sigil with wings that flew straight towards your chest.

        You felt a rush of cool air through your veins, like an excitement you couldn't explain, whips of teal surrounding your body as you could only take another step back and look to your uncovered hand to see for any physical changes as well- to which there were none. But you felt something. In your chest, your heart, something that was stirring and it didn't seem to slow down.

        "Ooh! Did you just feel the elements of the world?" Paimon asked, allowing you to turn and face her, your face still showing a stunned expression from... whatever that was.

        "Seems all you had to do was just touch the statue and you got the power of Anemo! As much as they may want it, people in this world can never get a hold of powers as easily as you..." She explained, crossing her arms over the matter, an idea popping into your head at the same time.

        "I think I might know why-"

        "Ah-ha, it's because you're not from this world to begin with. If we keep heading West from here, we'll eventually reach Mondstadt, the City of Freedom. Mondstadt is the city of wind because they worship the God of Anemo." She cuts you off, making you only hum at the action, allowing her to continue.

        "So perhaps, because you got the power from the God of Anemo, you can find some clues there. There are also lots of bards there, so perhaps one of them has heard news of your friends." 

        "That isn't a bad idea, Paimon." You smiled, thankful she was so serious and straightforward with helping you find the twins, something that seemed to be floating around in your head as you took in everything from this new world. She was like an anchor to keep you grounded, and for that, you were extremely thankful to her- beyond words.

        "Let's move then!" Obviously happy with your praise at her deduction and planning, though simple, it was a good and steady start- and that's what you needed at this moment.

        "The elements in this world responded to your prayers and Paimon thinks that's a lovely sign." She finished, her gaze reaching behind you as some Slimes approached, eyes wide at the intrusion by the elemental mutants. You followed her gaze, finding the flaming creatures to be bouncing right in your direction, your surprise evident on your face.

        "Ah, shit." You grumbled, taking a few steps back, your arm starting to stir up with energy. It felt like when you drank too much coffee, to the point where even your limbs were vibrating, wisps of turquoise enveloping your palm on instinct. The small slime soon was sucked into the vortex you had made, swirling around before getting blasted away, back onto the land- over the lake and away from you.

        "Ugh, gross." You winced, noticing the slime that coated the land in front of you, and your dominant hand. Wiping your hand, you decided it was best to swim to the other side of the lake, following Paimon as you escaped the burning grasses. You could only laugh as she huffed about wanting "cool fighting powers" as well, reaching the end of the lake and making your way further in.

        "You know, it may not be a blessing. Usually powers like these have consequences..." You said, wringing out your hair as the wind started to pick up, but this time it wasn’t by your own hand.

        "You shouldn't say that! These powers are a blessing from the Archons and for that you should be grateful! They'd never allow anything bad to happen to the people they've blessed with their own two hands." A low rumble started to echo through the area, making you turn your body and look around for what was causing it as you continued your talk with Paimon.

        "I get that... but still, usually the Gods and whatever powerful beings there are have some type of plan along with it- at least that's how it worked in my world."

        "Then maybe you should consider our world works differently?" She quips her head.

        "A god is a god." You huffed, the rumbling becoming louder before a dragon caught your vision, making you gasp in awe. Six wings, four limbs, a large tail, and decorated in patterns of blues that made it almost blend with the sky if its wings didn't hold an ethereal glow, a white underbelly contrasted with the rest of its body.

        "Wow! What is that? There's something huge in the sky!"

        "You guys have dragons here?" You exclaimed, walking in its direction to where it flew, making sure to lower your output of noise due to the camps that were littered nearby with humanoid creatures.

        "It's heading to the heart of the forest, where we're going, so make sure to be careful." Paimon notes, keeping up with your pace as you jogged into the forest, collected some things along the way that could help in the future. By the time you had reached the forest, you slowed your pace to a comfortable walk, looking around and making sure not to run into anything aggressive- or the dragon you two had just seen.

        Maybe it continued flying anyways?

        "Huh? Look at that." Paimon pointed in front of the both of you, the grumbling appearing once again.

        You were wrong.

        Moving to hide behind one of the larger trees, you pressed your back against it before slowly turning your head to look at the scene in front of you, still making sure to keep your noise at the bare minimum. The dragon from before was standing before you, almost cautious of the person that stood before them, a short man dressed in turquoise and white, holding his hands outward to the dragon before him.

        "Don't be afraid. It's alright now, I'm back." He spoke gently, ignoring the dangerous growls coming from the beast in front of him. It made you worry at the sight and activate the mask that was embedded into your earpiece, still watching as Paimon spoke up.

        "Is he talking... to a dragon?" She questioned, right as your palms lit up with the Anemo power you had just gained, a glowing pattern forming as it burst with life, alerting the dragon and scaring it away with a scream of displeasure. 

        "Who's there?" The man questioned as he jumped back, his gaze in your direction before taking a few steps back, disappearing in a glow of light. Your hair felt like it was about to be yanked out as the dragon flapped its wings before taking off, leaving you dazed at what had just happened, and headache from the harsh tug. You stood there in shock for a bit, not saying anything as your hand buzzed and fizzled out, focusing on calming down your heart rate- deactivating your mask to breathe better as well.

        "That was close! Paimon almost got blown away!" Your guide yelped. "Luckily Paimon managed to grab a hold of your hair! Thanks." She smiled, handed over her heart, and you felt your energy drain immensely in the moment.

        "Good thing you didn't pull my hair out." You sighed, rubbing the aching spot to soothe your head as Paimon continued to speak, you following closely behind.

        "This definitely has something to do with that weirdo who was talking to the dragon..." She trailed off.

        "Is... that normal? Talking to dragons?" You asked, confusion written on your face, wanting to know if this was a common occurrence in this world.

        "Of course not. But what's that? There's some kind of shiny red thingy on the rock over there." She pointed out. You both walked over to look at the glowing item, her warnings falling on deaf ears as Paimon spoke about never seeing anything like this before, making unable to help in this specific situation. 

        "Let's keep this, just in case." You mumbled, your bare hands picking up the gem(?) with ease before packing it into your belt, tucked away safely and unable to escape.

        "Good idea, now let's get out of here." 

        "Agreed." You nodded, deciding to stroll through the forest for a bit, both to rest and catch up on your thoughts, maybe ask Paimon more about this world and how it worked- so you don't seem like a bumbling idiot to the locals. But before you could do any of that, a yell came from behind you, rushed footsteps following at the same time.

        "You there! Stop right there!" A girl yelled, jumping across your field of vision off the small pass, dressed in red and white with long brown hair, rolling as she hit the ground before coming back up to a stand. 

        "..."

        "Are you fucking kidding me?"

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #The Missing Guardian: Genshin Impact #genshin impact imagine #x reader #reader insert #queen.writing #gi x reader #gi imagine

[nneogram]

think about it — part one. get laid!

pairing: jaehyun x reader (f)

genre: enemies to lovers!au, college!au, fluff

word count: 8.4k

warnings: language, mentions of sex but not really (oc keeps being told to get laid “emotionally” idk), jungwoo gets scolded about the importance of consent, jungwoo’s in a frat but not really but yes really, quick reminiscent phone call w/ bestie jungkook, oc has unhealthy studying habits but dw it gradually gets better from here

a/n: i’ll say it for all of us - FINALLY, an update on here. this is result of my own college shenanigans, stories from my friends, and far too many fantasies whilst in quarantine. jeni needs to lay off the k-dramas, sheesh. i’d also like to note that this is unedited! there may be a few grammar/spelling mistakes.

▸ playlist (to be linked later)

Your roommate claims that you need to, in the simplest terms, “Get laid.” You are vehemently against this proposal, despite her insistence and clarification.

“Emotionally. You need to get laid emotionally, Y/N,” Megan whines. That’s all she can do from where she is sitting, tucked safely away beneath the blankets on her bed. It’s cocoon-like, she’s explained to you before, “like being in the womb.” Safe. Secure. Warm. You think that if that was her cocoon, then Megan would emerge a butterfly. If you were in her place? You would emerge a moth.

“I don’t think any getting laid needs to be done, regardless of if it’s emotional or not.” You take another flashcard from your prepared deck. Strong Acids. HCl, HBr, HI… HClO4? A hiss leaves your lips when you flip the card over to see the answer. You were missing two more acids. You reluctantly place the card into the pile to review again, which sat next to a much smaller pile of correct cards. The goal for the morning was to move all the cards in the “wrong” pile to the “right” pile, but considering the size difference of the two stacks, that goal would not be achieved.

Megan’s sigh pulls you from your focus. “Dude. Do you see yourself right now? I don’t think I’ve seen you doing anything other than studying for the past two weeks. I’m going to ace this chem midterm and I’m not even in chem. I’m not even a STEM major.”

You frown. “Sorry. Was I being too loud? I can go-”

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you. I’m concerned for you - you’ve been cooped up more these two weeks than you were in the entirety of fall quarter. Have you taken a break recently?”

“I slept for eight hours straight, I think that’s a good enough break?”

“No, like a real break. Away from studies and school and just doing something… I dunno, fun?”

You shake your head. The past few weeks had been nothing but relentless studying. In an effort to maintain your pristine GPA, you shoved aside what little downtime you allotted yourself in fall quarter to focus on school. It was the least you could do, considering that you were on track to apply to medical school at the end of your undergraduate career. You were only in your first year, so all of the other requirements for med school - clinic, shadowing, research, the works - were inapplicable for the time being. There wasn’t much to get you ahead other than your 4.0.

Megan knows this, but she also knows that you have little to no social life outside of the bare minimum. It’s an unspoken truth that the two of you being assigned as roommates was a blessing in disguise: your studious tendencies help motivate Megan to stay on task while Megan’s more laidback nature reminds you to take a breather sometimes. 

This was one of those times.

“I’m telling you,” Megan crawls over to the edge of her bed to get closer, “You should relax a bit. Just a teeny, tiny bit. Have some fun, live out your first year of college! Make some art, go to the gym, I dunno, step out of your comfort zone. Get laid!”

“You say that last one as if talking from experience,” you tease. 

What was the charge on sulfide again? Fuck, it was two minus. Another card goes into the “wrong” pile.

Megan scoffs. “Please. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and that was in middle school. The most we did was hold hands. Besides, we don’t need men… I just want one.” She mumbles this last part as an afterthought before returning her focus to you. “I think getting a boyfriend would be a great distraction for you.”

You gawk at your roommate, eyes flitting from her to your toppling stack of incorrectly answered cards and back to her. “Do you see this? I don’t need any distractions right now.”

“No, no, I - fuck. I got that all wrong, didn’t I.” Megan facepalms. “What I mean is maybe you should befriend some people, or find some kind of emotional outlet. As much as I pride myself on being your source of positivity, I’m not around all the time to tell you to take a break and relax. You tend to be hard on yourself, y’know?”

Your gaze once again travels to your flashcards, their amount of use prominent in the worn-down corners and smudged ink. “I guess…”

There’s a smile of satisfaction on Megan’s face. “Think about it,” she concludes, then crawls back to her cocoon of blankets to take a nap.

--

The gloom of the rainy weather hits most forcefully in January. With the merriment of the holiday season behind you, it seems there is nothing ahead but cold, and rain, and emptiness. Only so many mugs of hot chocolate could keep your heart warm, and it wasn’t even the good type of hot chocolate - it was the powdery stuff that you mixed in with your lukewarm water because the water kettle you brought with you to the dorm was buggy and never fully heated up a pot of water. 

Yeah, you could buy yourself a cup of cocoa from the coffee shop on campus, but as the college kid stereotype proved, you were broke. So you settle for your half-assed attempt at a comfort drink, taking extra effort to stir the dregs that tend to settle at the bottom of your styrofoam cup.

“So you need to get laid?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the phone.

You sigh. For getting into one of the most prestigious universities in the country, Jungkook lacked the ability to draw proper conclusions from given information. He clearly hadn’t paid attention to your five minute spiel on your deteriorating motivation for life and your roommate’s unusual suggestion. “No,” you begin slowly, because if you didn’t control yourself you were going to get annoyed quickly, “I do not need to get laid.”

It’s dusk, around that time of the evening where the world slows down as the sky is painted a myriad of pinks, purples, and oranges. Even in January the sunsets in your college town never failed to astonish you. However, it’s also the time of the day when loneliness hits you most, and for a fraction of a moment you get homesick and usually end up calling someone from home. In this case, you end up contacting a close friend - though you’re beginning to question Jungkook’s title as a close friend, considering he completely missed the point of your rant.

“Well it sure sounds like it,” Jungkook refutes. There’s a loud crunching noise on the other end of the call, and you have to bring the phone away from your ear as the crackling continues. You know for a fact that Jungkook has bitten into a chip, most likely the barbecue ones he always had on hand. The audacity to snack on junk food in the middle of a conversation about your existential crisis - you sometimes wonder how you and Jungkook became friends in high school. 

Then again, you were on the other end slurping the remnants of your hot cocoa. Maybe there was something going for the two of you.

“Think about it.” You’re reminded of that afternoon when Megan said the exact same thing. “You’re unmotivated. Why? Because you’re lonely. How do we fix that? You need to get laid-”

“-Emotionally. Emotionally laid-”

“-Yeah yeah, same difference. They go hand in hand,” Jungkook brushes off. “The point still stands. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

You hesitate to answer. “I’ve never been in a relationship,” you mumble.

“I couldn’t hear you. What?”

“I said I’ve never been in a relationship,” you repeat with a sigh.

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head, momentarily forgetting this is a phone call and not an in-person conversation where Jungkook can see you. Students begin to flood the sidewalks outside of the dorms, likely the last wave of students returning for their later classes. A girl - Megan, you realize after squinting - waves at you from across the street. You wave back, gesturing to her that you’re on a call. She nods and goes on her way to the dorm. 

You return your focus to the call. “No, not kidding.”

“I’m taking that lapse of silence as you actually having to think about it.” You roll your eyes, another gesture that Jungkook cannot see. “How? You’re telling me all four years of high school you never got with someone? Not even a fling? Not even that weird ‘talking’ phase kids do these days? What have you been doing all this time?”

Your mind immediately goes back to your high school graduation. “Valedictorian, weighted GPA of 4.8, Y/N Y/L/N, attending…” You remember the smile on your face as the principal handed you your diploma. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, the pride and joy in their eyes. That was when you knew it had all been worth it - no one but you, your parents, and your own pure ambition fueling your fire for the four years of high school.

Maybe the closest you got to any sort of romantic relationship was… with Jungkook.

You liked Jungkook before your brain could fully process it, denying it as platonic affection for the better half of three years as he took you under his wing your freshman year. It was comforting to have someone older than you help you navigate high school, but as much as you tried you could not view Jungkook as an older brother as he so claimed to be.

Of course, nothing was ever to happen. Jeon Jungkook was a boy entirely out of your league - star student, star athlete, poster child for all things good and right in the world - but most importantly, he was your closest friend. It was this label that helped set a boundary for your affections, and your crush became more of a pastime to delve into when you wanted a break from your studies. A fantasy that would never come true.

It wasn’t until he moved away for college your senior year that your crush subsided, hitting you like some sort of epiphany when he returned for his winter break. You had been beyond elated to reunite with your friend, but when you looked in his eyes it dawned on you that the weight of his words and actions no longer affected you as much as they did in the past.

That was your only stint with romance, and you were fine with it staying that way. Yeah, it was a fruitless endeavor, but look what you got out of it: a great friend! And only at the price of three years of unnecessary emotional turmoil and relentless unrequited pining. What a bargain.

“I’ve been busy with school, mainly.” It’s an insufficient summation of your high school experience, but it got the point across. Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you and all - and I respect your decision to be single! Human rights and all that - but maybe it’s time for you to get into a relationship.”

You snap your fingers loudly enough to startle a group of guys walking past. You hope the grimace on your face is enough of an apology. “Oh my God, thanks Jungkook! Now that you mention it, let me just hit up one of the many young eligible bachelors pining over me, because there are so many right now.”

The feigned enthusiasm in your voice does not entertain Jungkook as much as you would have liked it to. “I’m sure there are, Y/N. There were plenty in high school.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” The playful smile you sport falls from your lips as he proceeds to dive into a list of names. 

“The one guy with the yellow hair… Yugyeom thought you were cute… Oh, Taehyung liked you too-”

“-Taehyung?” You gawk. “The Kim Taehyung. The guy two years older than you, editor of the yearbook and captain of the lacrosse team? The Kim Taehyung who was Prom King. Him?” It’s difficult to process a senior that you had regarded so highly had taken  interest in you in your lowly freshman year.

“Yeah, I know, right? I told him he was out of your league-”

“-Hey!”

“-But I said that out of jealousy. Heck, even I liked you at some point, Y/N. You’re quite a catch, just super oblivious.”

The reminder of your phone call with Jungkook consists of your disbelieving laughs and Jungkook’s reassurances that yes, that many people liked you in high school.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people interested in you. You just have to see it for yourself first.” Oddly prophetic for someone who claims he could survive solely off of energy drinks and barbecue chips, but considering he was studying at an Ivy League, he had to have some credibility. You end the phone call possibly more confused than you had been before the conversation. Swirling the contents of your cup absentmindedly, you realize you’ve drunk all of your hot cocoa. All that is left at the bottom of your cup are the clumps of cocoa powder that hadn’t been properly stirred. The dregs. Of course.

You relay your findings to Megan the next day over a lunch of poorly cooked rice and under seasoned chicken. “Food crafted by the gods to remind us of our inferiority,” as Megan liked to call it.

She claps her hands like a seal. “So I was right!” She cheers over a mouthful of food. “You need to get laid!”

You’re a bit too late to cover her mouth, her ambiguous words now out in the open for others nearby to hear and assume the wrong thing. Glancing around, you’re relieved to find that no one seemed to notice, save for one boy at a nearby table surrounded by some of his friends. He gives you a look but you refrain from making eye contact.

“I feel like you and I heard different stories just now.” You keep your voice down. “Meg, I just found out my high school crush - debatably, my first love - liked me at some point when I liked him. Do you know how big that is?”

“Do you know how big that isn’t?” Megan shoots back. “Because nothing came out of it. You never acted on your feelings. And something tells me that even if this John Cook-”

“-His name is Jungkook, but okay-”

“-Even if he had acted on his feelings, you would never believe it.” Ouch. She really went for your lack of self-esteem right there, and that shit hurted. Regardless, she’s right, and you both know it.

“You know when we say this, we’re not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” Megan clarifies. “I’m not saying you should get dicked down by the first guy who gives you attention, but wouldn’t it be nice to let someone - someone who genuinely cares for you - to let them into that dark and twisty mind of yours? God knows what’s going on up there.” She gestures to your forehead with her spoon.

Brushing aside Megan’s crude wording near the beginning, you’re at a loss for words. Unsure of how to respond, you mumble, “But there’s no one like that in my life. Other than you, that is.”

“Because you never let anyone close enough to truly know you. Just…” she pops another spoonful of rice into her mouth, “Just think about it.”

-- 

D-1 until your midterm. Nomenclature and ionic charges are now extremely familiar to you, having taken the spot from Megan as Number One Friend. And yet, you still haven’t successfully completed your flashcards.

Strong Acids. You suck in a deep breath, swerving in between groups of people as you make your way to the cafe. Walking quickly with your head down as the sure fire way of getting to any destination as quickly as possible. Okay Y/N, you got this… HCl, HBr, HI, HClO4… HNO3? You flip the card over and hiss. You were missing one more response. You truly hated it here.

The cafe is bustling with students on their laptops and scribbling away in notebooks, all likely studying for their respective exams. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans pervades the entirety of the interior, drawing you further inward until you’re standing at the cashier. 

“One tall vanilla latte, please.” You hand the girl behind the counter your money and stand aside to let the next person in line order. Once your order is called, you grab your drink - Ah, nothing like a fresh cup of capitalism to revitalize your motivation to study - and search for a place to sit. As if by the grace of God, someone leaves their seat at the barstools just as you turn around. Beautiful.

“Excuse me,” you tap the shoulder of one of the people next to the open seat. “Is this seat taken?” He shakes his head no, and you take that as your signal to sit.

You find yourself sandwiched between two young men, each immersed in their own studies. The one to your right, the one you had talked to briefly, appears to want no further interruptions, both earbuds in his ears. The one to your left never turned around to begin with, head down as he types away at his laptop. All you can make out are his broad shoulders in a brown leather jacket and a mop of strawberry blond hair. An interesting choice of hair color, but you weren’t one to judge. He’s nodding his head to some tune, and it’s only then you realize he has one earbud in. You wonder what kind of music a cute man like himself would listen to -

Get a hold of yourself, Y/N, you chastise yourself for showing sudden interest in a complete stranger. The day before your midterm at that - there was no space in your head for an unknown young man who was probably good looking, too - No! Focus. Flashcards. You fumble in your jacket pocket for your index cards.

Chemistry nomenclature, round fifty-six.

As you’re reviewing, you overhear the conversation proceeding next you with the cute guy and a girl. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The familiar words make you think of mere moments before when you were asking the same thing.

“It isn’t, but… you can’t sit there.”

Huh? 

“I’m sorry?” The girl seems to mirror your confusion.

“You can’t sit here. I’m sorry.”

“But someone else can?”

Your flashcards go ignored as you choose to eavesdrop on the full conversation. The man stalls, looking at the girl up and down. “... Yeah, maybe.”

Trying your best to not draw attention to yourself, you turn your head in slow, languid movements to look around. Was anyone else seeing this? Hearing this? Were you the next unsuspecting victim on an episode of What Would You Do? You were half expecting a game show host to step out and introduce himself at any moment. Y/N, you’ve just been Punk’d! 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, you couldn’t decide which scenario was better), no game show host steps out from behind a curtain, and it sinks in that this guy wasn’t joking. He was intent on not letting this girl sit next to him.

“Look,” the girl runs a hand through her hair, a habit of frustration, maybe. “I really need a place to sit and work on things, and this seat is open. That, and it’s a public space. So if you’ll excuse me-”

The young man easily lifts his backpack from his chair with one hand and places it in the open seat. “There. It’s taken now. Sorry.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and you can only imagine what your face looks like right now. You’re in just as much shock as she is. 

You scoff, and this time you don’t care if he hears. And he does: the stranger finally turns around in his seat to reveal an extremely attractive face. Chiseled jawline, deep brooding eyes, dimples even when he was scowling. You freeze and your breath hitches in your throat. It’s a shame he had to go and open his mouth.

“Excuse me,” you cut in sweetly, making a point to only make eye contact with the girl. “You can sit here. I’m about to leave.”

The girl’s eyes go wide at the addition of a third party. “Oh, no, you don’t have to! Thank you so much though.”

You shove your flashcards into your backpack and stand up from the seat. “No no, I insist, it’s fine. Besides, I didn’t want to sit there anymore.” Only then do you shoot a glare at the young man. “I couldn’t focus.”

Judging by the way the girl eyes the strawberry blond next to you, you think she doesn’t want to sit there anymore, either. Nevertheless, a seat was a seat. She thanks you profusely and you head out the doors and down the path to return to the dorms. 

Naturally your mind drifts back to the stranger. Who was he to have so much pride as to deny a seat to someone he didn’t know? A seat that wasn’t his, either? The thought that people like him exist irks you.

He was so good-looking, too, your subconscious proceeds to remind you. 

But alas, a jerk was a jerk, and at the end of the day you had far more important things to worry about than an indecent stranger whom you doubt you would see again. More important things such as -

Your phone rings with an alarm notifying you of your next scheduled event: Final Review B4 Exam! You sigh. Looks like it was back to the books (and flashcards) for you for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t hit you until you crash land into your desk chair: in your anger-fueled exit from the cafe, you had completely forgotten your barely touched vanilla latte sitting at the barstool counter. At this point you’re ready to tear your hair out at the roots. You’re five dollars and one fresh cup of caffeinated capitalism short for the night’s study session. You really hated it here.

If Megan were here, she would whip you into shape real fast, shouting at you that you’re a “Bad Bitch!” or some other expletive motivation that would comfort you. Except Megan isn’t here, attending some kind of club meeting, leaving you alone in the dorm. Another sigh escapes your lips and you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling. 

Maybe, just maybe, you needed to follow through on this whole “getting emotionally laid” thing.

--

The midterm you had so diligently studied for was a success. Inorganic Chemistry A5 didn’t know what was coming when you rolled up with your beloved flashcards - all successfully completed, mind you - ready to fight. Needless to say you were able to enter the weekend with no qualms. You now had much needed time to recuperate and as Megan had said before, to “take a break” (among other things you were not going to address anytime soon). 

Some students recovered from the trauma of frequent exams via partying, deciding it was better to be under the influence in order to get over their academic standing. Some would meet up with their friends, maybe gossip about the latest episode of the hottest reality TV show. In your case, you decide to binge watch as many k-dramas as humanly possible. While you preferably do so in the comfort of your bed, tonight Megan has taken authoritative control over the dorm room. Meaning, she had a psychology midterm the following Monday and needed to be able to focus on nothing but the role of the amygdala without the OST of whatever drama you were watching in the background. You know for a fact if you were in the room minding your own business Megan would ultimately get distracted and join you in your k-drama marathon. Thus you are thrown to the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back and your belongings stuffed into your backpack.

You take extra care to avoid the puddles forming on the sidewalks, the result of on and off rain throughout the day. There are noticeably less people outside, and you have a feeling that any building you choose to house yourself in will be quite the opposite, likely packed with students. 

After milling about campus for a few minutes, you finally settle down in the Student Community Center - a fancy name for yet another building on campus where students could lounge about and study slash socialize. As predicted, there are significantly more people crowded in the lobby area of the two-story building. Your boots squeak against the tiled floor as you make your way down an inconspicuous hallway. Tile turns to carpeting when you step into an almost empty study room. Only a handful of people are present in the room, scattered across the tables and couches. No one ever bothered to check the rooms at the very ends of the hallways - only those more dedicated to being unbothered ever made it that far - and you were grateful for this as you settled down at one of the open couches.

Hotel Del Luna is the show of choice for the evening, and you cuddle up to the armrest of the couch as you press Play. You had watched this one before, having been forced to do so with Jungkook at its release. Curse him and his admiration for IU - some of the ghost scenes kept you up at night the weeks after watching. You much preferred the more lighthearted slice-of-life k-dramas, but following your phone call with Jungkook you were drawn to the darker show. Call it nostalgia, call it an attempt to relive the happy memories of the past, call it denial of reality, whatever.

You’re two hours into your binge watch when you notice an unfamiliar presence at your side. A boy, and a breathtaking one at that. When he had joined you, you’re not sure, but you catch him glancing at your laptop screen every so often. He doesn’t stick out too much, black hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap and similarly monotone attire with a black hoodie that was definitely way too big for him. Yet no amount of nondescript clothing could cover up his impeccable bone structure. This man had a jawline and a nose bridge that were to die for, and although you haven’t made eye contact with the stranger you’re already feeling self-conscious. There’s no way in hell you’re initiating any sort of interaction with him.

But there’s no need to worry, because the stranger does it for you.

You’re on episode three when there’s a gasp from beside you. “Lee Jun-Ki!” You crane your neck to see the stranger leaning over to watch your laptop screen. The work in front of him - whatever that mess of hieroglyphs and symbols was - is completely forgotten as he scoots closer. 

It’s not until you lean a bit away from him that he realizes his actions. “Oh, sorry. I kinda needed a break from studying or else I was gonna lose it.” His ears turn a bright pink as he explains himself. “Is it okay if I watch with you?”

“Uh…” Now that your full attention is on him, you give the stranger a proper glance-over. He was indeed studying, some sort of language of shapes and numbers that was foreign to you sprawled across his notebook in a variety of colors. Other than the all black attire (which was reasonable for college - wasn’t everyone attending their own funeral during exams season?), he didn’t look too shady… “Sure.”

“Sweet.” He extends a hand to you, pulling back the ginormous sleeve that threatens to hang over his fingers. “My name’s Jungwoo.”

You tentatively take his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. Are you a first year?”

You nod your head, and Jungwoo smiles. “Cool. Me too.” He moves back to his side of the couch, but quickly scoots back to sit directly beside you after he has shoved all of his work into his backpack. He settles beside you on the couch, slouching down similarly to you. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You crack a smile at the boy’s unabashed boldness. He immerses himself in the episode alongside you, clear adoration in his eyes whenever IU makes an appearance on screen. “You like IU, I take it?”

Jungwoo shakes his head. “Not half as much as one of my friends. He idolizes her. I just... look at her very respectfully.”

“Me too, actually,” you confess. “My friend forced me to watch with him. I usually watch happier things. My favorite is Weightlifting Fairy.”

Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. “I love Weightlifting Fairy!” His theatrical gasp attracts the attention of the few students nearby. This newfound information seems to make something click in Jungwoo’s head, because he wiggles all the more closer to you. “You’re quickly becoming my best friend, Y/N.”

“I’m a friend?” 

“Duh. This was established when you didn’t run away from me in fear when I was quite literally looking over your shoulder. And that’s happened before with other people. Twice.” He seems to feel the need to add in the last few details, much to your amusement. “Now shush. Lemme admire IU in peace.”

--

That interaction with Jungwoo is only the first of many, many more. While you’re the type to keep to yourself and not approach others, Jungwoo was the opposite. You’re only a bit surprised when he yells out your name from across the street a few days later, sprinting towards you with unbridled excitement on his face. The last time someone was that happy to see you was when your dog greeted you after returning home for the holidays.

“Good morning, Y/N! Where you headed? I have Material Sciences in an hour. I got time, so I’ll walk with you wherever you’re going!”

Much like your first encounter, you agree with some hesitance. Jungwoo seemed to not have a bad bone in his body, no ill intentions whatsoever. It was refreshing to be in the presence of someone who wasn’t already jaded by the world. 

As promised, Jungwoo walks with you to your destination, the coffeeshop, even waiting with you in the insufferably long line. You find out that Jungwoo is the same age as you, a Mechanical Engineering major, and is a part of some sort of club that allowed him to connect with upperclassmen of different majors but with similar interests.

“It’s called Nu Kappa Tau, everyone there’s really nice! I’ll bring you with me to the next social event.”

“Nu Kappa Tau?” You test out the syllables on your tongue. “Greek? Are you in... a fraternity?”

Your tone of voice insinuates something bad, and the way Jungwoo reacts quickly tells you he has a similar stance on the Greek life in college. That similar stance being that frat boys were vermin. “No, no no no no. It’s Greek, yes, but we are definitely not a fraternity. It’s more like… a social, cultural, and academic club?”

“Jungwoo. That’s exactly what a fraternity would say to make it seem like it’s not a fraternity.”

“Okay, but in this case we’re actually not a fraternity, I promise.” He tugs on your shirt sleeve and looks at you with pleading eyes. “You should come with me to the next event. It’ll be fun, and I’ll prove to you it’s not a fraternity. Please?”

You remain silent, eyes turning to the coffeshop’s menu. Even when your gaze is somewhere else you can sense the way Jungwoo is staring you down with those puppy dog eyes of his. This was what, the second time you were talking to him, and already he wanted to go to a social event with you? “I don’t know. You’re nice and all, but I’m not the type to warm up to people easily. I’ll have to hang out with you more first. No offense.”

Most people cower at your denials, retreat to more comfortable territory where there’s no fear of rejection. Jungwoo, however, beams at you. “None taken, Miss Y/N. You know why?” He pauses for dramatic effect, quirking an eyebrow in mischief. “Because that wasn’t a no.”

A few people in line crane their necks to peer at the two of you as a resonant smack rings out in the coffeeshop. 

“Ow - Y/N - Ow!” Jungwoo rubs at his upper arm. You know you didn’t hit him hard enough to elicit this sort of dramatic reaction, but it’s what he deserves. 

“You can’t use that logic, Jungwoo,” you scold, bag poised in the air ready for another attack. “The only means of consent is a yes. Say it with me. The only means of consent is a-”

“-Yes, yes, okay! I got it, I’m sorry. I sincerely apologize.”

--

Fast forward two weeks later, and you know Jungwoo a bit too well for your liking. Following your rejection of his offer, Jungwoo goes ahead and makes it a point to see you for at least an hour a day, weekends included, in order for you to “warm up to him.” Some days, it’s lunch shared in the cafeteria between classes. Other days it’s hours upon hours of studying together in the back of the library, you and Jungwoo taking shifts napping while the other crams for their classes. 

He forces - “heavily insists” - you to share your location with him on your phones, so it’s of no surprise to you when he starts showing up outside of your lecture halls after class. It’s when he’s walking you back from your last class of the day that you find that he lives a floor above you in the same building. Of course.

Dare you say it, it’s easy having Jungwoo in your life. He walks with you everywhere, always initiates conversation, and eats as many meals as possible with you - or as many as Megan allows. 

“Hey Y/N,” your roommate greets you with a warm smile which quickly turns into a steely glare when he acknowledges the young man standing by your side. “Ahem. Jungwoo.” 

If Jungwoo was a legitimate candidate for your mission of “getting laid,” Megan would be ecstatic. However, you explain to her that Jungwoo is nothing more than a friend, and suddenly Megan thinks he’s out to take her spot as Y/N’s Best Friend (insert trademark emoji here). 

“Megan, always a pleasure,” Jungwoo croons. If he’s perturbed by your roommate’s aloof greeting, he doesn’t show it, a smile growing on his face. Jungwoo turns to you. “See you at nine?”

You nod. “See you at nine. Bye.”

“Bye.” Jungwoo waves then walks down the hallway to the stairs. You wait until he’s out of sight to turn back to Megan, who has one eyebrow raised.

“What’s going on at nine?” She questions.

A defeated grin makes its way onto your lips. As much as you had been dreading what was to come, you couldn’t deny the excitement building up within you at the thought of something… new, for once in your life. “I’m going to my first party.”

--

Jungwoo, as promised, picks you up from your dorm room later that evening. He texts you an ominous message of i’m outside ur dorm lol for you to find him in the driver’s seat of a car far too expensive for any broke college student to own.

Hesitantly, you hop into the passenger seat and gingerly close the door. You’re not sure who he borrowed this from - or maybe it was a rental? - but you wanted to make sure you took no part in any damage fees he’d pay later. “I thought first years couldn’t have cars on campus.”

“I know. I’m a rule breaker, Y/N. I can’t be stopped… And maybe I borrowed it from a friend.”

Jungwoo insists on manning the aux, which you oblige to as you don’t trust your music taste to be liked by others. Something about the artist name Sergio Rachmaninov didn’t always hit well with the young folk these days. The queue starts up as he pulls out of the parking lot, a bass-boosted R&B song filling the expanse of the lush interior. 

“I’m going to warn you, this music queue is all over the place.” All over the place is correct, because after the R&B song finishes a ballad comes on, followed promptly by the song “Good Time” by Owl City. It’s a good song, a tolerable one, but after the second run, and third run, and even a fourth run you can’t help but wonder if the queue is glitching.

“Jungwoo.” He grunts in response. “Did you mean to put this song on loop?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? It helps me focus.”

You’re really questioning the sanity of the man behind the wheel.

Four and a half plays of “Good Time” (or fifteen minutes) later, you and Jungwoo arrive at your destination.

You audibly gulp. “Jungwoo. You are so in a frat.”

“No I’m not!” The man whines. “I swear!”

You and Jungwoo must not be looking at the same house, because the one you’re looking at is nothing less than a mansion: two stories, covering a wide expanse of vivid green lawn, with pillars on either side of the double-door front entry. Windows line the top and bottom floors, and hedges line the cobblestone walkway in the front. It looks like something out of a Southern period drama with the Victorian, colonial style architecture.

“You sure?” You can’t break your gaze away from the three enormous Greek letters placed above the entryway. “‘Cause no normal house emblazons the symbols of their group name across the front like that.”

As soon as you step foot in the door, you regret your decision to come. “Kim, I think I left something in the car-” 

You’re rudely interrupted by Jungwoo swinging an arm over your shoulder a bit too harshly. 

“Relax,” he reassures you. “My friends don’t bite. Only I do that.” You’re given no time to question that statement before he leads you further into the house.

If there’s one thing you can count on with Jungwoo, it’s his ability to socialize. It seems he knows everyone in the house, proven to you by the way he either nods his head or does a handshake with every individual present. He leads you to the kitchen where two guys are conversing, one looking like an overgrown man child and the other looking like… well, an actual child.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show up,” the much taller boy croons. “And he brought a friend.”

“Johnny, this is Y/N. Y/N, Johnny. He’s in his fourth year.” You shake hands with Johnny, who grins at you. He seems nice, other than the fact that he continues to stare at you through the duration of the handshake. Perplexed, you refuse to break his gaze.

Johnny is the first to look away, turning immediately to Jungwoo. “Oh, I like her. No one has yet to win my staring contest this year, other than you, Y/N. Congratulations.”

You force a laugh. “Thanks?”

Jungwoo steers you to the second boy, this one noticeably shorter - or was he still tall? Anyone standing next to Johnny seemed to be dwarfed in his presence - with dyed blond hair. He has a cap over his head and circle glasses, and you can’t help but think he looks awfully young to be at a frat-but-not-really house party.

“And this is Mark. He’s a fellow first year, but he’s our baby.” Jungwoo coos the last word, making Mark huff. Lowering his voice to a stage whisper, Jungwoo explains, “He was born in 1999, so we have a good year on him.”

You click your tongue. Ah, that explains why he looks so young. You deem Mark to be far more approachable than Johnny and shake the young boy’s hand eagerly.

“Where’s Peaches?” Jungwoo asks Johnny. The older boy shrugs. 

“I dunno. Not my problem.”

“Oh, I don’t think Jaehyun’s coming,” Mark cuts in. “Texted me saying something came up. Something about a paper due. Wait. Didn’t you take his car?” He points to Jungwoo, who shrugs with a look of Whoops, sorry on his face.

Johnny groans. “Oh, shoot. That’s right. We have a paper due tomorrow morning.” As quickly as the realization hits him, the worry is gone. “Eh. It’ll be fine.”

The three boys converse a bit longer, exchanging pleasantries and whatnot, before you and Jungwoo make your departure. The most that comes out of your mouth are feeble courtesy laughs and the occasional sarcastic quip to keep Jungwoo’s chaotic energy at bay. You wait until Jungwoo’s led you away to voice your thoughts. “What kind of name is Peaches?” You repeat.

“Right. One of the upperclassmen got the nickname because he smelled like them his first day of recruitment. Apparently he lives near a peach tree orchard or something. Therefore, he’s Peach Boy.”

You make a mental note of the phrase recruitment your friend uses. One day, you’ll compile a long enough list of evidence proving Nu Kappa Tau was a frat, and the word recruitment was one of them. “So what’s your nickname then?”

“Me? I’m not technically initiated yet,” - did this man use the word initiated? Yet another piece of evidence for the fraternity agenda - “but if I had to choose…” Jungwoo pauses and drums his fingers against his chin. “I’m Cheese Boy.”

You pause, letting his name sink in. The laughter bubbles up within you, threatening to spill out in a snort. It instead comes out as a strong exhale through your nose.

“Whatever, Cheese Boy,” you tease. “How much longer until I can go home?”

--

The next time you see the boys of Nu Kappa Tau is when Jungwoo drags you to yet another one of their events but a few days later. “This one’s right up your alley,” he insists. He also bribes you with the promise of buying your lunch, and the kabob food truck was on campus today, meaning you were eating well this afternoon. Making an appearance at his frat was but a small price to pay for your beloved meal of choice.

Jungwoo’s right - this event is up your alley, because you recognize the route he takes across campus. “The library?”

He nods. “NKT Study Hall.”

As you enter the building Jungwoo pulls you down an unfamiliar corridor then up a flight of stairs. An unspoken farewell is bid to your usual study spot by the second floor window as you continue up, up, up, until finally stopping at the fifth floor where no more stairs remain. You didn’t realize the library went up that high, and you probably frequented the building more than all of the boys combined - not that you knew any of the Kappa Tau boys yet.

Though they do look extremely threatening now that you’re standing in front of them.

Jungwoo brings you to stand in front of him. “Men and Mark Lee-” (“Hey!” Mark complains,) “-I introduce to you my partner in crime, Y/N.”

You give a feeble smile to the young men surrounding the table. You recognize a few of them from the party, Johnny and Mark being the only ones you can put a name to. The two wave to you and you feel a little more welcomed. Aside from the duo, everyone else is unfamiliar, giving you emotionless head nods and scowls.

“Y/N, you know Johnny and Mark, over there’s Lucas, and that’s Sicheng.” You nod at the two of them, who seem nice enough. The latter actually gives you a soft smile, so you consider that a win in your book. “And over at that table is Doyoung, Ten… You know what? I’ll just introduce you to everyone later. Have a seat.”

You trust your friend to guide you to the safest open seat, directly across from another empty chair at one end of the long table. Immediately you pull out your biology notebook and pens, hunkering down and getting to work without further notice. If you couldn’t feel welcomed by the boys at the table, you could at least get some decent studying done. You felt far more familiar with the speciation concepts in front of you than the actual human beings next to you. You allow your head to burrow itself closer to your notebook, dwelling in this small comfort in an environment of unfamiliarities.

The moment of peace doesn’t last long.

“Peaches!” Johnny’s bellowing voice makes you jump in your seat, your beloved biology notes neglected.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Huh. You’ve heard that voice before. You can’t place where you know it from, but it causes a sneer to form on your face. Glancing up from your notes you can’t help the strangled gasp that leaves your lips.

It’s him. You’d recognize that faded pink hair and smugly complacent upturn of lips anywhere. That, and he’s holding a coffee cup that violently catapults you back to the incident from a few weeks ago in the coffee shop. You left your perfectly good vanilla latte behind because he made you mad, that jerk.

“Oh, Jaehyun.” Jungwoo leads the man to the open seat across from you. Pointing to you, he says, “This is Peaches - I mean, Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is-”

“-Y/N, right?” Jaehyun interrupts with a grin. You lower your eyes at the dimple that forms when he smiles. “I believe we’ve met before.”

Jungwoo looks from your displeased state to Jaehyun’s smug smirk. “Uh, okay. Cool. Well then. I’m gonna go ahead and grab lunch, I’ll be right back.” You watch as Jungwoo beckons Johnny and Mark to join him, the only three familiar faces present at the table now leaving.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, arms moving to rest behind his head. “Looks like it’s just the two of us.”

You weigh your options. You could recognize that the two of you have indeed met before, and try to get past your differences. Or, you could refuse to acknowledge Jaehyun’s presence a mere few feet across from you at the table and try your best to study until Jungwoo returned with your food, at which point you would then flee the scene as fast as your non-athlete self could. Only one of these outcomes enticed you, and it wasn’t the one that involved talking. 

“So, Y/N,” Jaehyun leans forward. The width of the table is enough to keep him at a safe distance from you, yet he’s still close enough to invade your personal space somehow. It’s suffocating, how whatever musky cologne he’s wearing wafts over to you - he smells nothing like peaches. “How’s your day been?”

“Fine.” You keep your eyes glued to your biology notes. Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species become isolated from one another due to-

“Aw, just fine? That’s it?” His voice is low. With Jungwoo, Johnny, and Mark out getting food, you’ve been isolated at one end of the table with Jaehyun. Lucas and Sicheng are present as well, but both seem to be deeply immersed in their own studies. It’s just the two of you.

“Yep.” Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species-

“C’mon, I’m sure someone like you has had at least one interesting thing happen today.”

Allopatric Speciation occurs when - Someone like you? What was that supposed to mean? You sigh, but refuse to look up from your notes. Allopatric Speciation-

“Are you a first year? I took that class last year. If you ever want notes or something-” Jaehyun jumps a little when you slam the notebook shut. Good. Serves him right.

“I don’t like you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the end of his lips. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

He leans in by resting his forearms on the table, leveling his gaze with yours. “I don’t think you do.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re distracting me.”

Jungwoo comes back at the most opportune time, wielding a kabob skewer in each hand - one untouched and the other halfway eaten. “One chicken kabob for Y/N.”

Deeming the conversation with Jaehyun at its end, you stand up from your seat and grab your backpack from the table. Jaehyun fixes you with an intense gaze but remains silent. Whether he was sizing you up or not you didn’t care.

The tension is palpable at the table, and Jungwoo clears his throat. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“No,” you respond quickly. Grabbing your food from Jungwoo, you give him an apologetic smile. “Something came up. I gotta go. Sorry, Kim. See you tomorrow?”

You despise this man. You don’t even know Jaehyun - he is nothing but a familiar stranger - but you despise him. Him and his ethereal appearance. Why were the terrible ones always the ones blessed with above average looks? Why’d he have to open his mouth?

“Wait.” You do not, in fact, wait, but instead continue marching forward. It’s not until the figure stands right in front of you do you stop. It’s Jaehyun. Holding your biology notebook in the air. “Don’t want to leave anything behind. Like last time, right?”

The last few words out of his mouth have your blood boiling and your fists clenching at your sides. That explained the foreign lightness of the bag on your shoulder.

“Oh, right, the vanilla latte.” You fake a cordial laugh. “You mean the time I was so desperate to get away from your insufferable presence that I left behind a perfectly good coffee? The time when you treated that girl as if she wasn’t a human being? That time you couldn’t be a decent enough human being that you were that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know?” 

Jaehyun stands before you with an astonished smile and a hand frozen in the air. You pluck the notebook out of his grasp and stride away before he has a chance to respond.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Jaehyun calls.

“I’ll see you around my ass,” you mutter under your breath. You’re willing to go out of your way to avoid interactions with Jaehyun, no matter what it takes.

a/n 2: hope you enjoyed part one of this series! it’s been a while since i last posted a fic on here so i apologize for my rusty writing skills. part 2 is projected to be posted in one week from now, but that’s tentative. we’ll see where life takes me and if i have the capacity to post in a week from now. in the meantime: stay safe! 💕

#cznnet #jung jaehyun fic #jung jaehyun nct #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fic #jaehyun nct #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun #nct fluff #nct fic #nct scenarios

[good-rwbyaus]

How does Yang react to the rumors her lil sis has become a professor

Perspective :: Yang // Becoming - mod lilac [ main chapter ] [ P: Weiss ]

logo-comics asked: What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

// this perspective piece was harder to write than I thought. also trollpin - lilac

---

“I’ll be sure to set aside an office for you, Professor,” the Headmaster spoke with mirth as he and Ruby spoke at Beacon’s courtyard, watching the students arrive for orientation. 

“Stop calling me that! I just wanted to know if students could have their own private rooms!” Ruby stomped on the ground.

“Students, no. Professors, well...” 

“Argggh!” 

Yang was treated to the sight of her normally shy, bubbly sister hopping up and down angrily, pointing impolitely at the man that’ll soon be their Headmaster. Ruby’s uncharacteristic actions shocked her brain so thoroughly that she needed a moment to reboot.   

“Wait! Yang?!” Ruby exclaimed upon spotting her.

“Hey, Ruby.” Yang replied dazedly before internally wincing at her unenthusiastic-sounding response - too shocked from her sister’s prior actions. 

Luckily though, Ruby didn’t notice anything and was in fact enthusiastic enough for the both of them. Her sister’s eyes lighting up was the only warning she got before she felt Ruby pounce onto her, the other girl wrapping her in a tight hug. 

“You made it!” Ruby happily said, “I missed you!” 

Yang couldn’t help but hug her back smiling, not quite sure what’s made the other girl so affectionate, especially in such a public showy way. 

“I missed you too, sis,” she replied warmly, patting her head. Come to think of it these two months have been the longest they’ve been apart in years. Even when she took mini-missions at Signal to prepare for Beacon, the longest interval was 48 hours. Curious at her sister’s sudden change, she asked, “Yeesh, what happened to you over the past two months?"

"Eh, you know. Landed a blow on my teacher. Got myself blown up a couple times,” Ruby started counting on her fingers, “Got dangled out of a tower. Accidentally made a mess of things when I fought in a real team for the first time. Uhhh, not exactly in that order. “ Ruby scrunched up her face, which made her laugh.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun,” Yang replied with a grin, though she gave the girl a quick onceover to make she’s truly alright - which it looked like she was.

“Yup. At least when they’re not sticking me in a classroom or hanging out with this old troll here,” Ruby resentfully gave the Headmaster a glare.

Yang choked on her spit at her sister’s audacity.

“What did you say? I’m hard of hearing, Professor Rose,” Ozpin blandly stated, “I think I heard someone asking me that she wanted to have her professorship announced tonight.”

“Don’t you dare!” 

She listened as the two bickered back and forth. Well, more like Ozpin speaking and Ruby reacting. Hearing Ruby talk like this to an authority still frazzled her brain, and it was only Ruby saying something even more unusual that brought her out of her daze.

“And you still won’t tell me their name!” 

“Huh, whose name?” Yang asked reflexively, slightly worried about that little tidbit. Did oblivious-to-everything-but-weapons Ruby find someone she liked? At least someone will share Dad’s overbearingness when she started dating too. Ha. 

“His weapon’s name,” Ruby pointed at the cane Ozpin was holding. “His cane. It’s really something special, but you can’t tell unless you get your hands on it.” She then smugly grinned, “which I managed.”

The Headmaster quirked up an eyebrow before retorting, “you wrapped your hands and legs around it like a sloth and then refused to get off.”

“AND his weapon’s heavier than it looks but in a way I can’t really describe - like something more than physical. And there’s something like a heart ticking away, and it’s been ticking for a long time like an ancient clock,” Ruby said animatedly, her words speeding up with her excitement, “it's like watching one of those films before scroll technology or remembering a long memor-”

Well, at least some things didn’t change - like Ruby’s weapon obsession.

"You know, it’s rude to talk about other people’s weapons without their permission, Prof-” Ozpin cut her off.

“Ah, sorry, Headmaster,” Ruby bowed before lifting her head, “Wait, stop calling me that!” 

She had been so focused on her sister that she missed the Headmaster tightening the grip on his cane and the quickly-hidden shock on his face. 

======================================================

She couldn’t move, her limbs locking under the beady red gaze of the Beowulf in front of her. It lifted its claw into the air, about to deliver its death sentence. 

“Don’t hurt my sis!” A small five year-old ran in front of her, placing herself between the claw and herself.

“Ruby!” 

Somehow, someway, she found the strength to move. She stumbled onto her sister and wrapped her arms tight around her, turning away and preparing to protect the younger girl with her body. To protect her from the consequences of the mess she created. She closed her eyes, prepared for the pain. 

------

Yang groaned and slowly opened her eyes, lifting herself up to look at the other students snoozing around her. Ugh, she would have that nightmare again before Initiation started tomorrow. Or was it today? Crap.  

Sleepy eyes shut closed as she flopped back into her sleeping bag, waiting for oblivion to claim her. And for a minute or two, she managed to be still as a rock. 

“Argh. It’s useless.” She sat back up. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

The blonde quickly turned her head towards the raven-haired girl sitting by the windowsill, a book in her hands. Blake. 

“Can’t sleep obviously. What about you?”

“I’m used to staying up at night. I’m reading an interesting book after all,” Blake replied cheekily. 

Yang snorted, given that Blake had used that excuse to ignore her when she first tried to strike up a conversation. 

“The Schnee Dust Company’s heir seems to have taken a liking to your sister,” Blake said casually, “If it were me, I’d treat it as a bad thing, but I guess it’s good to have someone's backing.”

“Nah. I was listening in on that conversation. The moment that girl spoke about having an expert maintain her weapon was the moment she lost Ruby entirely,” she laughed. 

The scathing look Ruby gave the Schnee Heiress could’ve peeled paint. If there was an equivalent of a horse whisperer for weapons, it was Ruby. But as much as Ruby had disdain for those who didn’t respect their weapons, she wouldn’t show it - at least the Ruby of two months ago. She would’ve buried it deep inside and just be happy with the fact that someone was talking to her. 

Yang sighed. 

“...Ruby. She’s changed so much.”

“How so?” Blake inquired, closing her book shut. 

“Hmm. Why so curious?” Yang pouted, holding her heart, “Especially when you didn’t want to hear anything about little old me?”

“Well, the opportunity to learn more about Beacon’s youngest professor is hard to pass up,” Blake then added playfully, “don’t worry. You’re still interesting.”  

“I thought the professor thing was a joke,” Yang said in confusion, “Isn’t it?”

Was it though? She never heard Ruby outright deny it, just requested vehemently that the Headmaster not publicly announce it. Huh.

“I thought so too, but Ruby’s a bit special, isn’t she? Early entry to Beacon, taking solo missions, acting super casual with the Headmaster,” Blake replied, looking over at her, “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“I don’t think she is? I mean she would’ve told me, her sister - but...” Yang hesitated, “she’s changed a lot in the past two months. It’s like I don’t recognize my own sister anymore.” She grimaced, running a hand through her blonde bangs, “Ever felt that way about someone you’ve known for a long time and then bam what happened?”

Blake glanced outside the window and into the starry sky. 

“Yeah, I know a bit about that... But what about your sis? Might as well get it off your mind,” Blake sat crosslegged, staring expectantly and sincerely, clearly ready to listen.

With some hesitation, she glanced over at the sleeping girl several tables over with the Schnee girl sleeping a couple sleeping bags over, not quite ready to give up trying to recruit her. Good luck, brat.  

“Well my sis didn’t really have friends at Signal. She’s a loner but not really by choice. She tried so hard to fit in, but she never really clicked with anyone. No one really understood her or made the effort to.” Yang trailed off guiltily, “Maybe that’s why she could make the decision to come to Beacon so easily, because she had no one.” 

“I... I kinda expected I would have to give her a pep talk when I came here,” Yang admitted, “because Beacon required its members to form a team, even more so than Signal. I thought I would have to cheer my sis on about how she’ll find the right team but also telling her that I can’t be her partner and she needs to learn how to work with others.”

“But instead I see a confident girl who no longer seems afraid to let others know who she is. I see a fish in water. I see someone who’s found their place in life and is holding onto it with her own two hands. And also apparently making small talk and arguing with our Headmaster till she’s red in the face. Ugh, I don’t even know if she’s a professor. ” 

“Wait, so you seriously don’t know if your sister’s a professor?”

“Is that the only thing you took out of this?” Yang dropped her jaw, appalled, “I just poured my heart out to you, Blake! You have to take responsibility.”

The ebony-haired girl flushed wonderfully at her choice of words before grumpily rebutting, “W-who asked you to do that?”

A moment of silence passed between them, neither of them knowing what to say. 

It was Blake who broke the silence. “I think...you’re just having complicated feelings on seeing your younger sister grow up. I mean you seem like a good older sister, so you’ve probably protected Ruby all this time. And now that she no longer needs your protection, you probably feel a bit lost but also a bit of pride too.”

“Huh,” Yang blinked several times pondering what Blake said for a couple seconds, and then she smiled, a bittersweet feeling in her heart, “I think you’re right. I’m happy she’s grown up, but I also kinda miss the girl who’d cry when her weapon would go missing. Haha.” 

She then gazed playfully at Blake, “Oh Blake, why are you so wise?”

“Eh, I read it in a fortune cookie once,” Blake deadpanned without missing a beat.

“Ugh, and somehow my reverence for you has been lost,” Yang sighed before smiling, “But seriously, thanks for listening. Do you... Well... I heard you mentioned someone that you feel the same way about?”

Blake paused before shaking her head. 

“Ah, sorry. It’s a long story, and it’s late, and...” Blake said before adding in a dramatic baritone, “you haven’t progressed enough on the Blake Belladonna social link to know about that yet.” She stuck her tongue out before turning over to the side to go to bed.

“Oh come on! Pour your heart out to me now!” Yang said dramatically but upon seeing no response from the other girl, she snorted, “Fine. I’ll get to bed, and I’ll totally unlock more of the Blake storyline in the future. Does it end in romance at least?”

“Ugh. I’m not dignifying that with an answer. Good night, Yang.”

Yang laughed. 

-------

“And now even my sister thinks I’m a professor!” Ruby wailed at Headmaster Ozpin, pointing a finger back at her. Yang could only give the Headmaster an apologetic grin - probably should’ve asked Ruby in a more subtle way - as Ruby ranted on, “And no one else believes me when I deny it. That’s your fault!” Ruby groused.  

“Don’t worry, Miss Rose. I’ll be sure to do something about the rumors this evening,” the Headmaster spoke warmly, “You can walk back to your seat and see how I resolve this.”

As soon as Ruby sat down, Ozpin stood up tapping his glass with the back of his fork. All the students fell into silence upon noticing who was making the commotion, and all the attention quickly fell on him.

“Ah-hem. I have an announcement to make,” Ozpin spoke calmly, “I would just like to say that Ruby Rose is not a professor at Beacon. The fact she is on a first name basis with all your professors or participated in a mysterious extracurricular activity two months prior to her entry to Beacon is completely irrelevant,” Ozpin continued on before pausing briefly, a spark of amusement in his eyes, “And I suppose the fact she graduated from Signal two years early is also not that important. That and her impeccable display with her team during Initiation. Alright, that is all. ”

The man glanced over at Ruby, his gaze clearly asking ‘are you happy?’ to the girl.

Ruby only beamed happily in satisfaction.  

Oh my god. 

Ruby was right. 

Ozpin is a troll. 

And she could only facepalm at Ruby’s complete obliviousness to the fact that Ozpin’s wishy-washy way of explaining things probably made things a lot worse. 

Well, at least no one is going to call Ruby Professor to her face now. 

Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.  

#professor ozpin #rwby au #yang xiao long #rwby fic #rwby #ruby rose #ozpin #blake belladonna #becoming au #mod lilac #willow6010

[leatherbookmarking]

bilboo replied to your post

“[[MOR] this is very ‘mortifying ordeal etc’ BUT that would come up...”

I literally can't wait to write this bc in my head jc's disciples and servants LOVE HIM, he is grumpy ALWAYS but he's also endlessly fair and doesn't suffer bullshit, everybody is treated so well at lotus pier I LOVE ONE ANGRY SOUR MAN

YESSSS EVERYTHING PRECIOUS ON EARTH FOR THE GRAPEBOY

and now i’m thinking about, for example, some important conference everyone has to attend (even though it’s basically glorified small talk, and everyone DREADS it aside from sect leader yao, who is finally allowed to talk, and not stop talking, and he has five days) so at some point the disciples gather and exchange juicy gossip talk respectfully about their sect leaders, and

“surely you jiangs have it tough, i mean no offense, but sect leader jiang looks like he’s permanently on a verge of a meltdown--”

“--right, i’ve noticed that too, and the way he’s constantly clenching his teeth? he must be very good at cracking nuts, and i admire that, but at the same time, i can’t help but worry--”

“--and okay, you can punish me for that (in fact look, i am punishing myself as we speak), but i mean, his life can’t be that stressing now, all the serious stuff is long since over, so... i mean, you know... kind of makes you think that all this tension...”

“...aah--”

“--is because he doesn’t have... you know”

and the jiang disciples are just sitting here like :-) because on one hand, their first instinct is to vehemently deny everything, how dare you;

the second is to give the others a knowing look, lean forward and spill some of the secrets in a stage whisper, let those other disciples wander around for the rest of the conference, take one look at the scary sect leader jiang and experience internal anguish knowing this ruthless man is in fact in possession of three spiritual dogs and one dog dog, named apricot, pear, hunter and persimmon, you’re free to guess which is which, and he takes great pleasure in flipping their ears, then telling them “your ears are flipped, you know?”. yes, there is proof, but you’ll have to ask a-mei in private, sect leader has forbade her from ever talking about it to anyone, and if he hears her laughing like that, he will know;

the third is to keep silent, because really, where does one start?

there was one little girl, a-ming, who was so bad at archery it seemed almost like a conscious effort (even though of course it wasn’t, she was too young for that). most of her arrows missed the target completely, usually landing in the grass, other disciples’ targets or, on one memorable occasion, almost in sect leader jiang’s own person, because he just had to be taking a walk right next to that disaster of a lesson. a-ming burst into tears before sect leader even managed to drop the hand he caught the arrow with; tears so miserable and dramatic that something must have cracked in him, because a second later he was next to her, talking so quietly you couldn’t hear what he was saying, but, if one can allow themselves to theorize, probably trying to prove a-ming that he is, in fact, still in one piece, so there’s no reason to cry like that, now. and then, once she more or less calmed down, he positioned her little hands himself, checked if she was aiming at her own target (she was not), assured her that it’s obligatory to be bad in the beginning, how else does she expect to become good, and then, in what must have been a flash of godly wisdom, asked her, “do you see that point in the center of the target?”, to which a-ming replied with the saddest silence imaginable, and every single adult present suddenly felt very, very stupid

for obvious reasons the jiang sect has many young disciples, also those helping w/ pretty responsible things, like Finances and Trade and all this stuff i’m scared of, and many of those disciples have shared stories of fucking up, thinking “oh, that’s it. i’m going to die OR i’m getting kicked out of the sect into next thursday OR both” and getting scolded but also... somewhat encouraged? they’re not sure in what way, exactly, since everything sect leader jiang said sounded angry, but... one man who missed a line in a list of things to be shipped out has been told “no, you’re not leaving this sect unless sudden death takes you, and in that case i’ll be dragging your ghost to work here, do you think it’s so easy to find a good accountant?” and realized a week later that, in fact, yes, the good accountant was him

literally everyone and their dog has heard a threat of physical violence of sorts, including but not limited to (insert bone) breaking, dismemberment, flogging (regular or a few round with zidian to help you find the motivation to (crowley voice) DO BETTER!!!), drowning, etc, etc but no one has ever received it, mysteriously

several times, when young-but-old-enough-to-know-better disciples have Spoken when it wasn’t really their turn/position/the TIME to say anything, sect leader jiang raised his head and said, slowly and quietly, what the fuck did you say to me? most of them, pale as a sheet, said that nothing, nothing and drowned in their own apologies. one girl, though, repeated what she said, assuming that well, if she fucks up, she fucks up with style. sect leader jiang looked at her, looked at the Papers, looked at her again, and said “you’re right. thank you”

she was later found stress-sobbing

she was, much later, awarded a Position

maybe it is not exactly a proof of sect leader jiang being a good person per se, but there are rumors of the faces he pulls and things he mutters when reading Important Sect Correspondence, and it all makes everyone have warm thoughts

on the other hand, the insinuation that sect leader jiang is a bitch because of sexual tension and no one to resolve it with is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard, so there.

#bilboo #conversating #is that a fic? is it? unclear #anyway i spent more than an hour on it. wondering if i should be ashamed #(fruit research had to be done) #quastion: why is the correct tag [[MORE]] but displayed in replies it's always [[MOR]? #i am going to wonder about it for 45 years

[join-the-joywrite]

Hamish & Vera soulmate au headcannons

Oooohhhh who has the self control of a temperamental baby? Ma-ra! Mel-vyn!

This one feels longer than the others but I'm 43% sure it's because there's no angst and I'm a big fan of Person A and B continuously screwing up or screwing (with) each other

Up next, folks, is the lovely direction of your soulmate au. Fun.

Everyone is born with a little compass tattoo thing on their wrist. Instead of pointing north, it points to your soulmate. It heats up -- very slightly, almost unnoticeable -- when you're quite close to each other. Now and then, people can be seen walking up and down somewhere, eyes glued to their wrist because goddamnit it was pointing this way five seconds ago and now it's pointing the direct opposite way and-- wait shit turn back around

Vera knew her boyfriend wasn't it. Her compass never pointed at him. He knew it too. Still, she didn't leave.

Hamish knew Cassie wasn't it. His compass never pointed at her. He never said. She never noticed because she never checked her own. She didn't like the idea of soulmates anyway.

Hamish walks past "that scary girl who spends all her time studying" once and in his haste to step put of her clear warpath, he doesn't notice the slight tingling on his wrist.

Someone in the Order comes up to Vera before her Temple Magus days and gushes about how they think she's their soulmate. Vera, who has since kept up a facade of not really caring about her soulmate, sticks her wrist out and exposes her compass, which points towards the entrance to the Order. "Whoever he is, he's not in the Order."

For a while, Hamish tried to find his soulmate. Then he got caught up babysitting Randall -- and then Lilith. And then Jack showed up and there was no time for soulmate hunting when Jack Morton brings about the doom of the world somehow.

Jack and Hamish stand near the entrance to the Temple one day. Both their compasses point in the same direction. "Look, man, I know mine's this way because Alyssa's down there. . ."

Hamish doesn't believe his soulmate's an Order member.

A lot of shit happens. Their compasses go crazy when they fight the Order together, wildly spinning as they repeatedly cross paths. Given that Hamish is currently a werewolf, Vera is the one who notices this. Fucking hell, is it really a disciple???

Vera spends a few days walking through the Temple with her eyes on her wrist after they powder the werewolves. Once again, her compass is pointing in the direction of the entrance to the Temple. So who the hell was it??

The Knights get into the Order. Both their compasses stop pointing to one general direction and start randomly pointing in others. They're always watching their compass when they're not in the same room.

"If you're going to stand there, make yourself useful." Hamish gets Vera a drink. Vera chases him from the table. THEN Vera looks at her wrist and the mingling disciples. How could she possibly guess which one of them it is? °0° it's impossible.

"Bring me something in a tall glass." Well, I was about to go on a small soulmate hunt before I leave the temple for good but ok sure, let's rather do that instead.

When Vera's about to do the Excidium, she glances at her wrist to see that the compass once again points towards the temple entrance. She hopes her soulmate's far enough away, knowing that a good chunk of Belgrave is going to go down with her.

The more time Vera and Hamish spend around each other, the less they look at their wrists.

Once, they crossed paths while both looking at their wrists and when the compass flipped back, they turned, looked at each other, and went on their merry way

The have The Big Dumb okay

Gee I wonder who my soulmate is. Definitely not that one person the compass is literally always pointing to.

It's only after Alyssa, after Hamish is gathering his things and crossing the reliquary to find his other shoe that Vera sits back in the chair and glances at her wrist around Hamish. She watches the little compass follow Hamish as he goes from one end to the other.

"What are you laughing at, you're the one who threw everything around." "Nothing."

Hamish is there when Vera addresses the Order about the 'mysterious' passing of Kepler. As long as she still stands, his compass remains frozen. Hm, interesting. I wonder if there's a room behind Vera where -- OH!

"Mr Duke, do I have something on my face? . . . Stop grinning like that-- w-why are you? -- are you okay? Do you want to see the college therapist? Psychology? Psychiatrist? . . . An exorcist?" "I'm fine."

Vera loses Hamish in a crowd. I could check my wrist or I could-- "VERA STONE IS WEAK!" "WHO THE FUCK--" "ah, there he is."

"Hey you -- you new Medicum -- I swear I knew your name a minute ago-- have you seen the Grand Magus?" "No." "Damnit." Now I have to resort to old methods *cue Hamish marching around with his eyes glued to his wrist*

"Miss Dupres, do you know where the rest of the Knights have gone?" "No, Grand Magus." "Hm."

Vera gets Nicole in and checks her wrist against Gabrielle's. Both in the same place. "Those fuckers are up to something. Has anyone seen Mr Morton or do we have another impending apocalypse?"

Hamish won't stop tickling Vera. So while he's gone, she gets out her makeup bag. Fucking Alyssa. Could have returned my magic and then, not only would I be able to use magic for this, she'd be, you know, alive. Fucking stubborn Alyssa

Vera gets an epiphany. She might not have magic but she knows someone who does. Several someones, in fact.

Jack scrambles into the reliquary as fats as he can. "You said something about Hamish and an emergency."

Vera hands him a book. "Do this spell. Do it now."

"This is an illusion spell to cover up powerful magic . . . what did you do?"

"Nothing yet, I'm fucking with Hamish."

You mean you're fucking Hamish. "What was that, Magistratus?" "Nothing, Grand Magus. So, this spell, what do I do?"

Three hours later. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT CHANGED DIRECTION."

Jack @ Randall: hey, do u wanna go get a beer like right now and this exact moment which has nothing to do with all the yelling at all

To get back at Vera, Hamish decides to do thr same thing, except he has a 100% willing disaster partner Lilith to work with him on this one.

Two days after: IF I HAD MAGIC YOU'D BOTH BE DEAD

Hamish and Lilith sprint past Jack. "WE FUCKED UP WE FUCKED UP WE FUCKED UP WE FUCKED UP!"

Vera in the doorway with a knife in hand. "AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU'VE THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE."

"So, is what normally happens when the temple is empty?" Gabrielle asks, "or is today a special occasion?"

"No, this is normal. Hamish and Vera often--" "Don't you finish that sentence Mr Morton or I'll be hanging Silverback up on my wall." "Noted."

Hamish loses Vera in a crowd. I could use the compass or I could-- "CHANCELLOR STONE IS STONED" "WHAT THE FUCK--" "ah, there she is."

Had Kepler been alive post S2 there's like a 99% chance she would've been like "why are your compasses pointing at each other?" Long silence. "Because we're sworn enemies, Bitsy, why else?"

Hamish is trying to teach a class. Vera stops by to ask something -- which would've been considered normal if she weren't also the chancellor. Whispering in the back: "Did you see their compasses?? Do you think they know??"

Vera doesn't have magic or werewolf senses, but she does have some good natural senses. "Krowchuck is looking to retire. Belgrave is looking to hire. Make sure you submit an application, okay, babe?"

Vera has literally never called him babe before. In fact, Hamish doesn't think she's ever called him anything other than Mr Duke, Hamish, or "you absolute fuckhead dickface" that one time he ate the chocolate she was hiding.

Hamish glares as she leaves. How the hell is he supposed to get a lesson done now.

Hamish turns up to the next Order meeting with his sleeves high enough that everyone can see his compass point directly to Vera. She isn't happy about it.

"Hey, how long do you think it took before they realised it was them?" "Like a year. I kept track." "That's creepy, Randall." "No, it's like watching your favourite show. Entertaining."

"Mr Morton, my favourite disciple! You look well! How are you doing today? Your magic keeps getting stronger, I'm so proud--" "What do you want?" "Do this spell and I'll let you play with one artefact from the reliquary." ".....You're fucking with Hamish's compass again aren't you?" "I would never! How could you -- okay, yes. Make it point to the most annoying person he knows."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S POINTING AT MR CARPIO."

Randall chilling in the temple. "Wtf. Jack what did you do?"

"Why you always gotta blame me?"

Lilith, Randall & Gabrielle: because we're almost always right.

"Daddy, how long did you know Mommy before you knew she was your soulmate?" "Very long." "How did you and Mommy meet?" "I want a new question."

Can you tell my favourite trope is Hamish & Vera either vehemently denying that they're soulmates or just almost never realising it?? And then absolute chaos, of course.

See the other AUs I've mutilated

#hamish x vera #hamish duke #vera stone #the order #the knights of saint christopher #the knights of the blue rose #hermetic order of the blue rose #the hermetic order of the blue rose #vermish #soulmates #please just give me the soulmate au i want #soulmates au #soulmate #mara-writes

[pain-somnia]

Away From Home

Pairing: SasuSaku Rating: M (for sexual content) Prompt: time travel w/smut. (for those worried that it’s an adult with a teen, it’s not. That’s all I’m giving away) Disclaimer Day’s Notes: This was a piece that was commissioned through Patreon back in April. It wasn’t originally exclusive so I decided that it’s been 9 months so I will share this with you all.

Away From Home

There is a soreness in his lower back and a crick in his neck that has him worried to open his eyes.

He dreams often of home when on his mission, but the smile on his daughter’s face and the feel of his wife’s hands as they eased the kinks and knots of his muscles had been so real. He had smelled the fabric softener and felt the softness of the white bed sheets with the scalloped trim that Sakura favors. The detailed stitching brushing against his cheek is a sensation so strongly imprinted in his mind that it feels as though he had felt it only a mere hours ago not months.

Reaching to adjust his cloak to ward of the cold, he tucks his face into the collar and sighs. He detests being away but he is duty bound. Sasuke knows the dreams will only haunt him when he is idle for too long.

A crackle of a flame has his eyes opening wide. He never uses a fire at night when traveling alone. More alert now he recognizes the scent of smoke wafting about and absorbed into the material of his black cloak.

And he notices the way his hair brushes alongside his cheeks instead of resting against one side and brushing against the lashes of his left eye.

Sasuke has to blink excessively before he is able to focus on his surroundings. The clarity he usually had is gone and he has as much difficulty seeing as when—

No.

The blurry trio of sleeping bags and the long red hair poking out over the top of one is a sight he hasn’t seen in almost two decades.

It’s as he’s flexing fingers on a hand that he hasn’t had in over fifteen years that he recognizes that his chest is rising and falling at an alarming speed.

When was it that he last had a panic attack? When was it that he last had a panic attack without being able to turn and hold on to the small, soft body of his pink haired wife to ground him to reality?

Inhaling and holding his breath, Sasuke lets out his next exhale long and slow.

Oddities in his life are rare but nothing new, but suddenly finding himself in his teenage body is far more outside his realm of normality than rabbit goddesses and eye snatchers from the moon.

.

.

Settling into the flow of Team Taka is easier than it should be, but Sasuke was never much of a talker and it helps him pretend he isn’t a thirty-two year old man trapped in the body of a seventeen year old.

These versions of his former underlings haven’t noticed anything off about him yet but he knows it’s only time before he slips up.

It would be better to separate.

By the red clouds on his cloak and his blindness he can pinpoint when in time he’s supposed to be. Team Taka is meant to hunt down the Hachibi but Sasuke isn’t his young self lost in the darkness. He not only doesn’t want to hunt down the Hachibi but he also knows how it all plays out and doesn’t care to repeat history.

He will have to walk a path parallel to the one of his past so that he doesn’t disrupt the course of events that lead up to his future. As much as he would rather abandon everything and return home, there may be consequences to that decision.

There is one decision he must make to change the course of events. It will buy him time as he avoids hunting the Hachibi and it would be best for himself and to prevent an outsider from taking what belongs to his brother.

The order was wrong, but it was time to claim his inheritance.

.

.

Having the procedure done a second time, Sasuke was more alert this time around during his healing process. There are no dark thoughts clouding the corners of his mind as he plans.

This is another moment he wishes Sakura were with him. His brilliant wife would have healed him and fixed any errors left behind by the crude surgery. She would be able to come up with theories as to how he found himself in such a predicament. He can only hope that she is safe with their daughter in the distant future and that he hasn’t had any missteps that would erase their family’s future.

As much as he doesn’t want to hunt down the Hachibi there is still one man he will have to take care of again. Sasuke will have to be smarter this time around, less controlled by the hatred that had consumed him in his old life.

Loud voices and hissed insults outside of his bedroom has him snuggling into his futon until only the spikes of his hair can be seen poking from the top of his blankets. He doesn’t wish to know what it is Karin is doing that has her fighting with their comrades.

Sasuke longs for the quiet of his home even more during his recovery. Aches for the breeze drifting in through the open windows of his house and the smell of garlic and shallots filling the air as Sarada and Sakura’s chatter wraps a soothing buzz around his brain and down his spine.

He can’t afford a single misstep. He’ll find his way to Sakura again in the future—of this he’s confident—but he can’t lose their Sarada.

He drifts into a troubled sleep and dreams of hues of pink and red and of a girl’s distant laughter, always cutting away when he’s just within reach.

.

.

It’s a color he could never mistake and a voice he yearns for on quiet nights after days of of inaction.

There are others with her but who they are he doesn’t care. It’s always been like this. He hears her, sees her, before all others. Once that had been something he would vehemently deny, keeping those stray thoughts encased in the deep recesses of his mind, but he isn’t his seventeen year old self━no matter his appearance━and home is a flash step away.

“Konoha shinobi,” Karin warns. “Three klicks but heading west in the opposite direction. Easily avoidable.”

“You couldn’t have said something earlier?” Suigetsu scoffs. “You have one job and you can’t even do that right.”

“Shut up!” Karin seethes. “Sasuke-kun knows I would have said something if I was told to keep alert for them.”

With just a glance, Sasuke has them silencing. He nods his head in the direction he wants them to take and the three of them take off without him.

Home is running in the opposite direction. Three kilometers turns into four which turns into five and then six. And so on she keeps running, not even knowing how much he wants to be running to her.

.

.

He can hear them whispering. Even Jūgo is becoming skeptical of his plans. They have been moving and moving, constantly moving without making any effort to hunt down the Hachibi despite the orders given from his elder cousin Obito masquerading as their ancestor.

“Are you sure?” He hears Suigetsu muttering to Karin from his spot above them all in the forest canopy.

“I’m positive. We’re going in circles. Just as we’re getting closer I can feel him leading us away and…”

“And?”

“Something’s...different about Sasuke-kun. He doesn’t feel the same. His chakra is different. It’s like it’s not the Sasuke-kun we know.”

“Is it because of that surgery?”

“No...it’s been like that since before...just one day he woke up and he was different.”

Whatever Suigetsu responded with was lost to Sasuke as he closed his eyes and shut their voices out.

He didn’t necessarily need them anymore but the three of them had nowhere to go currently. In the future they crawled back to Orochimaru but at the moment he is still dead. And with the war approaching they would need as many allies and Taka did their part in assisting in his old life.

Sasuke will have to find a reason to get away from his team to avoid anymore suspicion.

.

.

He’s on his own for a bit. Sasuke always needs his space from his teammates and before they used to be wary of him, but now they’re wary for another reason all together.

He’s Sasuke but he’s not their Sasuke. He’s a Sasuke only a select few know and Team Taka never had this Sasuke. Karin has witnessed small increments but this Karin isn’t the Karin that was covered to her elbows in blood, cradling his premature daughter to her chest. This Karin doesn’t know it yet, but he is in debt to her for helping his wife and child.

He owes her more than she knows. But that hasn’t happened yet and he just wants distance, space away from her calculating eyes. She can see the way his chakra moves, feel the missing heaviness of how imposing it once was.

And he can’t allow that to be his undoing. He could handle it if Karin were to confront him but he couldn’t handle it if the confrontation led him to losing his future.

So Sasuke runs.

He takes the first chance he gets to split from the rest of Taka. Makes an excuse so that they split ways for a period. They have Karin and she can track him when they need to meet up again.

Being on his own again, Sasuke is reminded of the time during his redemption journey. Although he stands shorter than when he stepped out alone for the first time, he is seeing the world through clearer eyes and a free heart.

Sasuke finds himself sleeping often, a habit from when he went searching for himself. When the warm breeze rustled through the grass and the scent of the oak trees traveled with the wind, Sasuke was reminded of home and his thoughts would become muddled. Sleep was a reprieve from the confusing ache in his chest.

Now sleep is a curse. The weariness of his eyes as they drooped haunts him. For sleep cannot give him what he wants.

A promise that when he wakes up everything would have been just a dream. And that he would be home again.

.

.

It takes Sasuke a moment to remember to breathe.

It was already a coincidence that they had crossed paths once before, that he had caught a glimpse of her so soon before…

Before the time he had seen her in his timeline━his real timeline━and almost lost the future he is missing now.

His eyes are wide open and he is seeing the world with such clarity. How many times did he miss her before? How many times did he miss her when his vision was clouded with his hunt for justice?

He draws in the breath his lungs have been screaming for and it’s with that inhale that Sakura skids to a stop.

Eyes so green, so seafoam green, narrow and scan the perimeter. Short, choppy hair rustles with the slight movement of her head as she searches in his general direction. Sasuke can almost see the calculations circling in her mind.

She knows someone’s there. He can make a run for it, use his greater speed as an advantage. It would be the wise thing to do. The strong thing to do, for he knows that the gravitational pull his wife has on him even━before she’s aware she has any pull on him at all━is something he is weak against.

It is why he left home at twelve. It is why he stayed away.

Sasuke is very good at doing his duty. It’s what kept him on his mission for so long, it’s what had him on his mission without coming back home until it was done.

But he is tired and sleep has been bad and all he wants is that look━the look that Sakura gets on her face when she sees him, eyes wide and lips parting as if she’s seeing something splendid for the first time.

It’s greedy and selfish, but he’s sacrificed years in one lifetime and weeks in another. The universe can forgive him for a few seconds.

Purposefully he takes a step on a twig on the forest floor, one that alerts Sakura to his exact location. He just needs to wait for that look, that one look of astonishment, and he’ll take off.

“Sasuke-kun!” Sakura gasps, but before he can pivot and flee, she’s already taking a step back.

Curious, he halts his movements and watches as she digs her teeth into her lower lip and her eyes drift from him to the direction she had been heading toward before he had distracted her.

That’s...peculiar.

He is right in front of her—not moving now that he’s observing her—and she isn’t pleading with him to go back home with her.

Sasuke understands that she may be wary of him, unsure of how he would react, but Sakura isn’t one to shy away when it comes to her feelings so her silence is unnerving. He had been expecting her to shout out, not to act with trepidation.

Sasuke edges forward, sliding one foot along the soil, moving slowly as if approaching a doe. He waits for a reaction but Sakura just stares and stares.

He takes off, using a sequence of flash steps to create distance. He didn’t expect Sakura to be able to predict his movements but a tugging at the rope belt he uses to tie his cloak to his body has him skidding to a stop and redirecting his path.

“Sasuke-kun!”

He can’t look back. If he looks back he’ll break and forget that he has a responsibility to keep the timeline on its course. There is no telling if he will wake up back at home and face consequences for any disruptions he may have caused.

“Sasuke-kun,” Sakura continues to cry after him, trailing closer after him than he anticipated her sixteen year old self to be able to.

His mind offers a flash of Sakura dodging quick attacks during the fourth great war and then of her sucker punching Shin with his body covered with activated mangekyou sharingan, despite her off roster status due to being the director of the hospital.

“Anata!”

Fumbling a flash step, Sasuke trips up and skids across the forest floor, catching himself with his hands digging into the earth. Sakura catches herself on the trunk of a tree, using chakra to anchor herself instead of skidding along the forest floor like Sasuke. Green eyes go wide in fear as she continues to watch him, body poised and ready to make a run for it. Her body is tense as she anticipates a violent reaction from him.

Activating his sharingan, Sasuke scans every inch of her and looks for a sign, any sign that she could be━

“Tsuma?”

The endearment has barely left his tongue when Sakura throws her body at him, tackling him to the ground in one of her strong embraces.

“It’s you, it’s you!” She sobs into his chest, soaking his top with her tears.

Sasuke places a hand on her back and rubs soothing circles, letting her find comfort in releasing weeks worth of stress.

.

.

Sasuke doesn’t need to hear the lecture. It’s in his wife’s scowl as she sends pulses of her soothing chakra to his temple, healing the scarring from the surgery his cousin had performed to implant Itachi’s eyes. It’s the same scars she healed for him while he was in the hospital after his battle with Naruto.

She doesn’t reprimand him as he pulls her closer to straddle his lap. The closer she is, the more real it feels that she’s really with him.

Sakura had been in her sixteen year old body for the same amount of time he had been back in his seventeen year old body. She had told him of how she woke up one morning convinced she had dreamt he had returned for good, only to realize she was in a smaller body, in a much smaller bed, back in her bedroom in her parents’ house.

Sasuke scoffed at the comment of a smaller body. She had only grown a few more centimeters by the time she had reached adulthood. It is true though that she is no longer fuller at the hips and had lost the bust she developed after pregnancy━even the one she developed toward the end of puberty, but he isn’t going to mention that he had been watching her more closely than he should.

He remembered the shock of standing up and realizing he had lost over half a foot of his own height and although he was still muscular it was nowhere near the muscle mass of his adult body.

And then there was the issue of balance since he no longer needed to compensate for the missing limb.

“Do you think anyone else was sent back in time?” Sakura asks him as she examines him further, unzipping his top and brushing the pads of her fingers along still healing scars.

“Definitely not Naruto. He wouldn’t have the sense to keep it a secret.” Sasuke drags his nose up the line of Sakura’s throat. She smells mostly of sweat, dirt, and grass, but just underneath is her own unique scent.

Sasuke slides his hands under her medic apron, fingers edging along the hem of her tight shorts.

“What—,” Sakura narrows her eyes at him, cutting off her flow of chakra, “—what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Sasuke answers as he cups her pert backside with both hands.

“We’re in a forest,” Sakura protests.

“That wouldn’t be new for us,” Sasuke counters.

“We’re in a forest, I’m sixteen, and you’re a missing nin,” is Sakura’s rebuttal. Despite her protests, she reaches for his rope belt and tugs it undone.

“Physically,” Sasuke continues to counter, “but spiritually we are━”

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me, you opportunist.”

Sakura holds his face in her small hands and initiates their first kiss━a minor change from their original timeline. Sasuke sits her in his lap and bites on her lower lip, pulling it into his own mouth as he proceeds to deepen the kiss.

Sasuke isn’t ignorant of the fact that he now has the advantage of two hands. He can touch his wife without the assistance of any jutsu. Although the observation doesn’t stop him from using his teeth to unzip her top. His hands are too busy pulling off her shorts and underwear.

As close as they are, they’re not close enough and he needs to correct that.

“Don’t rip through my shorts,” Sakura warns him, clutching his shoulders with enough force he’s sure she added chakra to her hold, a promise of repercussions if he damages her clothing.

Sakura’s gasp is barely heard over the sound of her mesh tank top being torn in half with only the use of Sasuke’s teeth. No one ever sees her undergarments so it’s an article of clothing that has no import, something that Sasuke is aware of and pays no mind to her grumbling as he drags his tongue up her sternum.

Her irritation melts into a soft sighs as he presses open mouth kisses to her clavicle. He grabs her waist with his hands, distracted by how tiny it is as he brushes his thumbs lightly around her belly button.

“Sasuke-kun…” Sakura murmurs as he sinks his fingers into her warm, wet center. He gets to work on stroking her with one hand and helping her remove her shorts and underwear with the other.

Two hands really were more efficient.

Sakura’s moans roll into his mouth as she grinds her hips against his hand. She had been too engrossed in the feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of her core to worry about removing her medic-nin apron. Sasuke wants it on during their encounter.

Barely covering anything at all, Sasuke didn’t get a chance to appreciate her little apron when he really was seventeen. It is short enough and the slit just high enough that he can watch the way Sakura’s pink curls brush against the heel of his palm.

As Sakura grinds her hips against his hand, she braces herself by gripping his shoulders. The position they’re in makes it easy for Sasuke to wrap his lips around a pebbled nipple. He uses his other hand to press against her lower back in order to support her as she bucks against him, legs trembling.

As her inner muscles start to spasm around his fingers, Sasuke pulls them out. Sakura cries out at the loss and throws a glare at him, eyes watering from the frustration.

“I was close!”

“Yeah, I know.”

Sakura pouts so cutely he should feel bad about depriving her the release she was edging toward but he doesn’t. He just pulls his cloak out from under him and spreads it out on the forest floor.

“Come here,” Sasuke murmurs, tugging at her wrists to draw her closer. “And take off your shirt.”

Sakura barely shrugs her red top off and Sasuke is already pushing her down on to the cloak. He wastes no time in pushing her thighs apart and opening her folds once again. He’s careful to avoid the bundle of nerves that would throw her over the edge now that she is sensitive from the earlier stimulation.

“You’re doing it again,” Sakura whines, wiggling her hips in an attempt to get him where she wants him.

“What am I doing?” Sasuke feigns ignorance, pretending to be too concentrated on his task.

“Sasuke-kun. I’m not going to be the only one naked outside again.”

Sasuke frowns at the statement but doesn’t refute it. Their encounters outdoors usually ended up with Sakura losing every article of clothing while he only tugged his pants low enough to free himself from the confines.

Sasuke shrugs but in a gesture of mock solidarity he removes his shirt and tosses it to the side. He quirks an eyebrow at her and hesitantly she relaxes underneath him.

Now that she’s more willing to be compliant, losing the tension in her body, Sasuke swipes at her clit. He rubs at it with his thumb as he strokes her folds and places kisses down the valley between her small breasts and lower until he reaches her navel.

Dipping his tongue in her belly button, he sucks at the flesh there before making his way down lower and lower, past the thatch of pink curls, and flattens his tongue against where she’s hottest and drags it nice and slow before flicking Sakura’s hardened nub with the tip of his tongue.

A sharp pain at his scalp alerts him to Sakura’s fingers clutching at his hair and yanking it as he pulls the nub between his lips and rolls his tongue around it, alternating between soft suckles and hard suction that has her thighs trembling around his head.

Sasuke groans against her folds and Sakura’s body tenses up as his name tumbles weakly out of her mouth in a soft cry of relief.

Sasuke continues to lap at her core, flicking her clit in the upstroke. When Sakura tries to sit up he hooks his arms around her thighs and place his hands on her hips to keep her still. Using her sensitivity from the last orgasm he guides her into a second one and then rolls it into a third.

Sakura’s pulling his hair so hard at this point he’s glad that she is unable to concentrate on anything else but the feel of his tongue. If she could focus she would gather her chakra and attempt to pull him off of her. With the way she was yanking she could probably scalp him with her bare hands in her flustered state with the use of chakra.

By the time he’s done teasing her, Sakura is struggling to fill her lungs, unable to catch her breath through her pants. As she’s coming down, chest slowing down in its rising, Sasuke sits up on his knees and pulls her lower half so that her legs are spread across his lap.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he strokes her thigh soothingly as her eyes blink back into focus. She nods and grasps his hand, interlocking their fingers.

“I want to touch you too.”

Sakura pulls his hand up and presses kisses to the pads of his fingers, drawing them into her mouth. Sasuke’ mouth runs dry as she sucks on them. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she slides his index and middle fingers in and out of her mouth, her tongue wrapping around them.

“Next time,” Sasuke chokes out, reluctantly removing his hand from her hold as he pulls himself out of his pants. He gives himself two quick strokes, using the slickness from Sakura’s sucking to lubricate himself before guiding his cock into her entrance.

Slow and steady, Sasuke pushes in, groaning as he sinks deeper into Sakura’s slick heat. Looking up at Sakura’s face he cocks his head to the side, not sure why her lips are parted and eyes glimmering in awe.

“So that’s what you would have looked like…” she says softly.

Smirking down at his wife, Sasuke groans again purposely as he pulls out and thrusts back in as deeply as he can fill her.

The awestruck expression falls from Sakura’s face as she gasps from the sudden fullness. Sasuke stills inside her, feeling her inner muscles contracting around him as she adjusts to his size. As soon as she lifts her hips to move underneath him, Sasuke begins a steady pace of thrusts, gripping her hips with both hands to anchor her to him.

As familiar as he is with what his wife likes, his young body isn’t accustomed to being inside her and he is hypersensitive to the sensation. He can feel his release rapidly approaching, much sooner than he’d like.

Pulling out, he maneuvers Sakura’s body so she’s on her stomach. Following his lead, Sakura braces herself on her hands and knees and spreads her legs for him. Sasuke sinks back in and Sakura cries out, feeling him even deeper than before.

It’s a position Sakura prefers and that he gladly puts her in due to the increase in her sensitivity. He settles himself into the even pace from before, not trying to cum before he’s ready. Sasuke takes a finger and drags it down the curve of Sakura’s spine, feeling her flutter around him from the act.

Sasuke drops his head in the crook of her neck and drags his nose across her nape. Dropping kisses between her shoulder blades, Sasuke bites down on her shoulder and Sakura cums again, squeezing him tight and forcing his release out of him. Sasuke pulls her hips tight against his and grinds into her as spills himself inside of her. He collapses on top of her, chin resting on her shoulder. Sakura slowly drops to the ground and nudges him gently off of her as they sprawl out on the cloak.

Sasuke takes a deep breath and pulls Sakura closer so that her back is pressed against his chest. He hooks his arm around her waist and pillows her head with his other arm. Pressing his nose against the top of her head, he breathes in the smell of home. Sweaty and hidden behind the smell of earth, it lies there in the strands of Sakura’s hair.

.

.

Sakura had shrugged on his shirt when they gathered their things and relocated to a bank of a stream to wash up. The sight of their crest on her back is a small comfort but the news Sakura gave him as they laid on the forest floor had put a damper on his mood.

“Sasuke-kun,” his wife calls back his attention as she hangs up the newly washed cloak to dry. “What are you going to do now?”

Sakura was on her way to rendezvous with her team when she had ran into him. Luckily she was ahead of schedule due to already having the information she needed from the mission in the past. Sasuke hadn’t sidetracked her as she was using the extra time to be on her own. She had found it unsettling and tiring when she was with people. The stress of pretending and trying not to disrupt the timeline had been getting to her.

She was just as stuck as Sasuke and the only theory she could come up with was the rinnegan which was ruled out as soon as the thought crossed her mind. The rinnegan traveled dimensions not time.

Waiting around and playing out the rest of the events wasn’t something Sasuke wanted to do. There were other ways to get what he wanted.

“And I really don’t wanna celebrate Naruto’s birthday this time with the two of you blowing each other’s arms off,” Sakura jokes as he drags a hand down his face in embarrassment.

“That’s not happening this time.”

“Then what is happening this time?” Sakura slides her hand down his left wrist, settling her palm against his until he takes hold of it and interlocks their fingers.

“This time,” Sasuke breathes before granting her a soft smile, “this time, I come home. And stay.”

“And you stay.” Sakura nods, beaming up at him. Her smile fades and her brows furrow. “And Sarada?”

“We can be careful, do some calculations…” Sasuke rubs his thumb on the back of her hand. “She was ours once. She can be again. We’ll try.”

“We can try,” Sakura agrees.

“But for now,” Sasuke tugs on her hand, drawing her closer, “let’s go home.”

#sasusaku #ss fanfiction #day!fics

[whitherliliesbloom]

of two minds, yet one heart

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ my writings ]  ★ [ prompt #10 - avail ]

[ deftarm & wol ] ★ [ 1,734 words ] ★ [ post-heavensward ]

vath deftarm and mentions of mogzin and linu vali, some minor spoilers for heavensward beast tribe quests. deftarm has a minor crush on illya and has no idea how to deal with it.

it’s the first time in a long while the deftarm wishes he could share one mind with someone

Loth ast Vath has never been noisier. Traffic in and out of their quaint, modest little village away from the Onemind has been prosperous, in no small part thanks to the efforts of a certain hero, whose name has been rattling incessantly in his carapace ever since her lengthened absence. 

It was no secret that the Warrior of Light was the the very reason he’s managed to achieve all that he has to this day. Despite the differences that set Vath, Moogle, Goblin and VanuVanu apart, all who were considered allies and business partners to the Nonmind would never fail to echo his own sentiments of the young lady’s kindness and altruism. 

Overwhelming gratefulness was one thing, and undoubtedly he held a large amount of admiration for her - as did the other beast men the hero has helped. 

But there was something else, a sensation that stirred at him and troubled him for the following bells to come. A heat, a restlessness, and the jitter of his normally sturdy limbs that was exclusive to only him - and only towards her.

He’d consulted his newly acquired friends about his predicament - Linu Vali, and unbelievably, master Mogzin of the Moogle builders, who’d proceeded to laugh his kupo nuts off when deftarm suggested his master to be the cause of his continuously racing heart. 

 “Maybe, maybe you like her?”

Ridiculous! Why it has got to be the most preposterous thing Mogzin has ever said to him - a tall feat with all of the moogle’s tendencies for absurd pranks and jokes considering. 

The deftarm had vehemently denied the possibility, despite his furry companion’s insistence otherwise. 

His once master.. now someone he’d proudly declared to be his friend, was someone he greatly respected - the first of any mortal he’d grown to admire and trust. Nothing more, nothing less. 

The thought of his courting instincts being riled by one of another race than himself - let alone a lalafellin that he’d considered to be his mentor above all else had left the deftarm so flustered that he could scarce concentrate on anything else. 

And before he knew it, she was gone, left on yet another one of her grand adventures that he could only ever dream of participating it. He was one of a deft arm, but not daft in the head to think he’d ever stand a chance of standing by her side, for the Warrior of Light’s reputation precedes what even his many new friends would boast. It was hard to imagine a singular figure more renowned in name in the entirety of Dravania, and Coerthas for the matter, and even the deftarm struggled to the day to understand the true scale of her fame. He was but an adventurer with little renown serving his own people - while she will continue to rise like a shining star, whose name would be uttered again again by the people like she was their only salvation. 

She’d certainly been his.

Melancholy accompanied the pride and loneliness that lingered in the Warrior of Light’s wake, and while he dared not hope for her to ever return, busy as she must certainly be..he’d be lying if he said that fleeting, worthless hope hadn’t crossed his mind at least once. 

“How fare you as of late?”

And what perfect timing for the accursed mortal herself to appear before him, basket of nanka eggs slung over her arm and an oblivious smile plastered on her face. Deftarm furiously clucks his mandibles and taps his claws, and the other nonminds around turn to glance and chuckle in his direction.. he isn’t sure if he’s glad or not for Illya to be largely uneducated about Vath body language. 

“G-good! We’re been keeping in touch with the other tribes more, and practicing our dance with as passionate a fervor as when you’d last visited!” 

“That’s wonderful to hear!” The deftarm is acutely aware of every little detail of her expression - the slight curl of her lips upwards to form into a smile, the tiny folds of her skin around her eyes and the plumpness of her round and full cheeks that cradled a small, button nose. 

A hard carapace was a universal sign of attractiveness to Vath and Gnath alike, a trait Illya sorely lacked in. And yet he could not help but to still think, against his better judgement, that the softness of her entire stature and being was adorable. She’s closer to a moogle than she was Vath in that regard, the pure white of her hair does no favors, but she is most definitely way cuter and less infuriating to bear the company of. 

“W-w-what.. <click> <click> Um.. brings you here, m-mas- Illya.”

He utterly rattles in his scales as he speaks her name, and it felt as taboo as it did exciting. 

“Hm? A-ah.. To visit you, deftarm.. I’ve been busy lately b-but.. I wanted to drop by from time to time and help out like old times... I-if you don’t mind, at least.” Her voice was one of the softest parts about her, like a melodic wind chime that danced slowly in the wind. And what she lacked in the clicking of mandibles, she more than made up for with stumbles of her tongue, and the darting of her eyes as color rose up her cheeks. He’d been made aware that that was the sign of a flustered mortal, and it did nothing but worsen his own rattling and tapping.

“Of course I don’t mind! You are ever welcome in Loth ast Vath!” 

He manages to stop himself before he could add anymore unneeded sentimentality into his words, and watches with intent as the lalafellin gently nodded his head and placed her little basket of offerings upon the counter, where Vath Keeneye accepts warmly after clucking twice in a tease towards deftarm’s obviously enamored state.

And yet his idol, innocent and oblivious as she is, saw nothing amiss as the deftarm held his claws together, his head twitching and restless as he’d attempt to conjure words to say to her.

“May I ask you something, I-Illya?”

“A-ah, y-yes! Of course, you can!”

He taps his feet against the ground twice, and places the flat of his claws against the top of his carapace.

“W-what do you think of me?”

The suddenness of his question leaves Illya speechless for a moment, and her voice sputters out uselessly before she slowly thinks to regain her composure. Not even the most well read of her own kind would understand her flustered jibberish. 

“W-well.. um.. you’re very brave! And kind.. and you’ve worked very very hard to help your village. Y-you’re very wonderful...” Affection laces her voice as she speaks, and though it wasn’t quite the answer Deftarm had been looking for, he’s utterly smitten by the sweetness of the words that leave her lips. “A-and..what do you think of me, Deftarm?”

What does he think of her? There were so many and more words he could think of saying, of words he wanted to say to her for a while. And yet not a single one would come to mind to form a cohesive sentence, or anything he believed would allow her to understand the depths of his heart.

“Y-you... are my hero. You are.. very vibrant! And shiny!”

“S-shiny?” 

“Yes!” he clicks and frantically nods his head. “You are like.. a beacon of light! And I..admire you very much! B-but.. not in the same way as... other people..”

High praises never get any less easy for her to digest without going utterly red in the face, no matter how many times and from how many people she hears it from, but the manner of his voice trailing off catches her attention and piques her interest.

“N-not in the same way? W-why is t-that?” 

“W-well! It’s like... um.. Sometimes.. I wish we were of onemind, you see?”

Had Illya been more aware, she’d have noticed the barely audible gasps from the other eavesdropping Vath, and the way Deftarm basically crumbles under the blatant confession he’d just made. 

But curse all her twelve for having her be born a natural nonmind, for being a lalafell, who could only assume his words to be borne out of a relapse of his own will.

“T-that’s not good! Are you hearing voices again?” She turns from frantic and nervous to heroic in an instant, and stomps her foot forward with a furrow of her brow. “Don’t listen to them, Deftarm! You are your own person!”

“No no! That’s.. not what I meant!” 

Illya’s already girded up, with a heavy scowl on her face and hands balled into fists ready to pound and fight at the injustice of the hive mind his kind have had to overcome and suffer through. And it would seem his best reassurances would only serve to worsen their misunderstanding.

“N-no, just.. forget I said anything, Illya!”

“Are you sure? If you start hearing voices again-”

“I assure you, I won’t.” Deftarm clucks in defeat, and his shoulders visibly slump. It does little to wipe the expression of worry off the girl’s face. 

How much easier would if be for him to get his heart across to her if they were of onemind? If they were able to share their thoughts, to hear the beating of each other’s hearts.. surely she’d understand thoroughly without him even having to utter a single word. 

But that was a fruitless dream, one of physical impossibility. He could only dream of them being of one heart. 

“W-well.. Just know... you’ll always be Vath Deftarm. You’re important to me, a-and I..I would never want to see you have your thoughts and feelings stripped away again.” Her face glows as she flashes him a radiant smile, and he finds himself blinded by the beautiful twinkle in her eyes. “Your mind and your heart are of your own. Nothing can change that.”

It’d certainly be nice to be of one mind with her, would that he could understand the depths of her sincerity and kindness, and learn for himself just what she truly thought of him if she too understood his feelings. 

But Illya was right, as she ever always is. If being of onemind would avail him naught, he just had to try a little harder to express his own feelings with his words and actions. 

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #vath deftarm #illya skawi #fanfic #mine #kiwisffxivwrite2020 #i'm starting to feel burn out from having to write every day and we're not even halfway through the month god #i'm starting to see the quality of my writings dip #also not a pairing.. i just had headcanons that deftarm has a small crush on illya ever since i finished the vath beast tribe story

[unwilling-survivor]

(the first half)

This is for Sam & Frank both.

Dirty A-Z headcanon game (not to be confused with the A-Z NSFW)

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be   dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that   they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their   Dominant partner?)  

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell  their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or  under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like  bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being  denied / delayed?)  

-

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be   dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that   they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their   Dominant partner?)    

Sam: Look. She’s a bottom. Not necessarily full-time service submissive or anything, but she definitely isn’t a Dom. She much prefers being commanded, even if she doesn’t always want to follow orders. She doesn’t have a regular Dom. In terms of how she likes to be dominated, it’s almost entirely sexually. She doesn’t want someone to tell her what to do with her life, just give her direction and affirmation and validate their desire for her sexually. (Then again, she could probably use a little guidance in her daily life, as well, but it’s never been something she’s sought out, even if she needs it.) She likes dirty talk from her partner and commands about her body more than her mind. Sex is all about her body, and about getting out of her head. Letting someone else control things for a while is nice.

Frank: Oh come on. Look, he doesn’t use the term Dom, but he’s definitely controlling. Not always in a good way, either; it’s self-developed, not taught, and he never had to learn limits or boundaries or anything like that, not really. So he’s not the most considerate. His dominant experience has mostly just been him being a bit of a dick. That’s not to say he doesn’t sometimes slip into softdom territory, but it takes a little getting under his skin to get there. He likes to be in charge, doesn’t have a ton of impulse control, and can be a little impatient at times. Telling his partner what to do, or making them do it (positioning-wise) is just easier. He also really likes making people squirm. Honestly, he’s a sadist. That doesn’t always go hand-in-hand with being dominant, but in this case it does.

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

Sam: The closest to public she got was that one time in the sound booth. Also, once she did it on a playground at 2am. She’s not vehemently opposed to outdoor sex or anything, just sex in public public. See the previous ask. 

Frank: See the previous ask. In terms of outdoors, it’s a little more meh, tbh. He’d rather have sex under a stairwell than in a forest. Doesn’t want the bugs.

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

Sam: She’d try it in a pool, sure. She’s done it in the shower before, a couple times. It was practically part of the bi-annual hookup routine. Spend basically the whole day having sex with someone she’d never talk to again. That had to include cleanup, and more than once it was another opportunity for more sex. Lube was definitely necessary if they wanted to keep at any penetrative stuff, don’t fool yourself into thinking it’s not. She’s not into watersports.

Frank: Hell yeah. He’s done the pool and the shower, never a bath, but it sounds like a good idea. As previously mentioned, he’s not super into watersports, but he’s not vehemently opposed if he’s the one topping. Julie never let him do it; he might have a slight curiosity but he’s not champing at the bit to try. More like ‘I should try this before I die.’ (Except death isn’t really a thing, so he can wait a long long time. He’s in no hurry.)

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell  their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or  under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like  bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being  denied / delayed?)

Sam: The assumption that Sam has enough control over her own body to stop herself form having an orgasm is presumptuous. Unless the stimulation is completely removed, she’ll probably end up getting off anyway. She doesn’t try to deny or delay her partners, it’s not a power play she wants a part of, but she’d be (frustrated but) okay with her partner toying with her like that. Being told not to touch herself doesn’t make a huge difference, usually; she’s good at not touching things. Being told to touch herself is a different story. Being denied her partner’s touch is fine when she’s not wound up - again, it’s something she’s used to - but when they’re purposefully winding her up and then not touching her, she will be driven pleasantly insane. She’s got no interest in other kinds of denial.

Frank: He’s more into pushing harder and harder and harder tbh; more into forced orgasms than orgasm delay/denial. But if he knows his partner can’t take any more, or isn’t likely going to be able to handle more than one, he’ll drag one out as long as he can. Rarely does he ever tell someone not to touch themselves, but if it’s getting in the way he will. He can do it for them, after all. He does like making people beg for things. Really really likes making people beg. Meanwhile, if someone denies him for too long, he just gets pissed and breaks the rules. He has no problem with double standards when they work in his favor.

#rated M for mori #samswers is a pun and i'm not proud of it #frank morrison #nsft

[johobi]

Satan, Baby

Word count: 2.6k

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Warnings: If you’re sensitive to religious topics and imagery I would skip this one, some rather major if brief angst, alcohol as a crutch, slightly scary in places, especially if you don’t like goats, fingering, tentacles (yep, however brief), archaic dialogue.

Prompt: “Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?” -The VVitch (2015)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946889

When the devil knocks, you’re only too happy to answer.

Gin-gle bells, gin-gle bells, gin-gle all the way!

The greetings card sits, sardonic, opposite you. It has become a tragic premonition of this year’s festive agenda.  And the friend who’d gifted it you, gleeful grin and all, likely has no inkling of the accuracy with which it speaks. But how would she, when, blithe flake that she is, no longer favours you for her company this holiday. And not because you demanded it of her; of course not. You’re not the type to presuppose anything of anyone. It had been she who proposed your cosy Christmas twosome. A three-day extravaganza of turkey, gift-exchange and, yes, gin. Indeed, she’d been emphatic in her suggestion. It’s only been two weeks, after all, since you unearthed your ex-girlfriend’s year-long, adulterous deception. And you shouldn’t be alone after that, she’d insisted. But, no. The day before its Eve, your apparent best friend fucked off with her degenerate, drug-peddling boyfriend to a romantic retreat.

Christ.

So much for friendship.

So much for love.

Every unenthused effort you’d exerted in giving that other bitch - the cheating one - the Christmas she’d pouted for was wasted. The lurid lights, the offensively cheery decoration of your living room; it distresses your eyes and heart both. Reminds you how hideous a charade the whole ordeal has been. It’s relentlessly fake. A blanket of spray-on snow over nine layers of flaming lies.

It wasn’t just the pantomime of Christmas, though. Everything had been for Lily.

Your family’s desertion of you, for one. To say that they were disapproving of your relationship was underselling the strength of their abhorrence. Backwards, backwoods, and back-to-back harassment was their mentality and method in a nutshell. But you braved their repudiation for a love so true that it gave you the wings they purported God would tear from you.

If He feels so vehemently that a woman shouldn’t tongue another, though, he can fucking keep them.

And so you sit alone, gin in one hand and your dog snoring under the other, pensive. Numbly so, by this point. One can only weather so much before seeking shelter inside somewhere warm and safe. For you, it’s your mind and in the dregs of a bottle. Can’t drink too much, though. You have work tomorrow. The world doesn’t stop for Jesus these days.

Your drink becomes too cloying to endure. Its bottle, while only half-imbibed, sits suddenly heavy and offensive in your palm, because even alcohol has betrayed you. The stunts your stomach is showcasing deters you from persisting, so you relieve yourself of the bottle’s burden in an extraordinary way. Like an active grenade you lob it into the fireplace opposite and revel, exhilarated, how it enrages the flames for an alluring moment. The crack of splintering glass stirs your dog from repose to alarm in a split second, but you soon have him settled. He peers up at you with a question, but you only need smile before his placidity returns.

Maybe I could skip town? the scenario is heady to conceive. It grips you as you speculate within, everything outside your mind’s four walls forgotten. All but the flames afront of you. As they snap and writhe like the souls of those damned, the fire mesmerises you into a deeper state of introspection. You feel free of the compulsion to blink. Sink further into stupor.

I would sell my soul for another life.

The blaze speaks back. It knows you as well as you do. It is you.

Is that so?

Yes, I would, and there’s no hesitance to your thinking so. In your trance you feel easy, open.

That is quite the sacrifice, your mind supposes, though why you’ve taken on a different, more masculine voice to debate yourself is something you won’t allow yourself to examine.

Your eyeballs prickle in protest for being denied moisture. Nevertheless, it’s impossible to blink. My soul is rotten, if I even have one, and you truly believe that. I’ve been through too much.

The second voice inhabiting your body deepens. Deepens, and mutates, until there’s a trio of them speaking in perfect tandem; a whisper, a growl, and a voice of silver silk. Contrarily, it is luminous. Wouldst thou grant it to me?

“W-What?” you splutter it outside the confines of your internal monologue. Because that is not you conversing back. As soon as the exclamation stumbles over your tongue, your reverie disintegrates. You regain your ability to blink, but within one or two you feel yourself shift into an eerier reality. The fire is no longer quite so bright nor dazzling. The embers gasp their final, fiery breaths as they fade. The room is dark but for the paltry twinkle of your looming Christmas tree. Pluto barrels from the room, tail tucked to his stomach, a piercing yelp in his wake. “P-Pluto?”

Silence.

The rapid in-and-out of your breath is all that meets the muted air. Until the slightest shiver of movement catches in your periphery, and then you’re panting like a dying dog. You shrink into the sofa’s security, legs folding to your chest to screen your defenceless body. It must be a trick of the lowlight, but your eyes insist that there is a figure some eight foot tall occupying the corner. But it can’t be, because the tree’s illumination, however scant, catches nothing tangible. And yet, as your eyes squint through disbelief and murk, you swear, solemnly, that two, twisted horns sit atop this silhouette’s head. “Who’s there?” you don’t so much as threaten as squeak, catching your teeth on the tops of your knees. “Show yourself. How did you get in?!”

One blink and the demonic shadow vanishes, like your dry eyes were the instigator of this nightmarish hallucination. But something still remains there, you’re sure of it. It doesn’t breathe, it doesn’t speak, and it doesn’t disturb this plane of existence in any capacity, but you know it’s there. “Who are you? Have I finally gone insane?”

Your heart-rate is in the cosmos. And it only continues to ascend when the shadow responds, in that same, flanged voice. It’s otherworldly and melodic, bordering on soothing, were it not for the growl underrunning every spoken word. “Thou art of clear mind and clearer eyes. Thou hast summoned me.”

The dark form offers nothing to the truth of its identity, and yet you already know what stands there. There is no doubt in your mind. Strange, when up until this point you’ve been atheistic to the point of obnoxiousness. None of that is of any importance now, though, when faced by a being exuding the formidable truth. “Th-The Devil? I summoned you?”

It’s unnatural how your heartrate quietens when it - he - steps forward from indistinction. With him he brings an aura of utter tranquility, and even on its boundaries you feel like you’ve consumed a healthy dose of some benzo or another. Empty of anxiety, you’re able to appreciate the godless beauty of this man. Yes, a man, or perhaps that is how he’s choosing to present himself to you today. Quite against expectations he’s donned head to toe in white; a suit perfectly tailored to cling, and hair like platinum thread. Wide shoulders and narrow hips draw your eyes first, but then they land on, and refuse to waver from, his divinely-featured face. Everything you see there is sculpted by a deity’s master hand. The man possesses voids for eyes; they neither let light in nor out, and as he observes you without relent, you fear for what might happen if you fall into them. “Thou didst,” he murmurs past ripe, apple red lips, and this distraction is almost more damning. God, you want his mouth. More than all those who came before him.

“I didn’t think you were real. I didn’t think any of this kind of thing was real. What else is real? Do you have a name?” you’re not really the type to babble nonsensically, but you just feel so serene. Weightless. Words are but feathers on the wind, and to release them is to be free. There being an ancient, malevolent entity in your vicinity is of little worry.

“Seokjin is one of mine names,” he smirks; a mere twitch of his generous mouth, and cherubs are in chorus in your heart. The rest of your stumbling enquiries go unanswered. “Address me thus, if thou pleases.”

“You look more like an angel,” you breathe into the space between you.

The Devil smiles wider. It’s tenuous, but perhaps you spy two rows of vaguely pointed teeth. “There is nary a difference. They live to serve their Creator, as doth mine conscripts. I, however, am transparent in mine subjugation. He is not. One might consider that,” he tongues a tapered tooth. “Devilish.”

There’s little time to form an opinion on the matter because he takes two more steps to you, and every incremental increase in his proximity robs you of the wherewithal to function. He’s absolutely breathtaking, fatally so. It’s only when you heave in an urgent breath that you realise how even your most autonomic of impulses are impaired by him. You lower your legs to both see him better and signal your receptiveness to his advance. There’s no suggestion of what he may do when he comes near, but his eyes graze your exposed thighs without apology, only that sultry smirk pulling at his mouth. “Say to me,” he whispers low and slow, savouring each syllable like an indulgent meal. “Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”

You don’t react verbally, not just yet. Your body, however, gives an immediate answer. There is a diabolical stirring between your spreading legs, intensifying for every second his gaze lingers there. It must be some dark magic hitching up your shift and soddening your cunt, but you sense it comes solely from you. You’re inebriate on his exotic musk, so dense that it fills not only your nostrils but your mouth; an irresistible tang compelling your asphyxiation. Rather than draw breath, however, you release a wanton whine. Each moment you go untouched by him your pussy strengthens its revolt. You’re so, unbearably tender, so shamefully wet, that little more than the heat of his breath on your skin will undo you. That much you’re sure of, as you squirm, open-legged and leaking for his pleasure, beseeching him for his mercy.

“Grant me thy answer, sweet girl,” the demon persists at range. He studies how unreservedly you present yourself to him, leaking so copiously that it moistens the sofa beneath. “I must hear it by thy own lips.”

It takes everything remaining of your modesty to prevent yourself from masturbating. “Y-Yes. I want to live a delicious life. Please.”

The one hand obscured in his pocket, he withdraws, raising it to the air. Adorning it is a ring, inset with a peculiarly flickering jewel. You rise, too, but whether it be by sorcery or out of your own, debauched necessity, you don’t know. The sofa dips under the soles of your feet as you straighten awkwardly to attention. The arousal streaming your legs in depraved amounts demands you keep them apart. An undignified stance, to be sure, but something you care little about in your condition. Fuck, you twinge like a metronome at your centre, mouthing around nothing but a desperate wish.

That wish, Seokjin grants. It’s only one more step before he’s level with your bosom, peering up at you completely soulless. Completely endless. His aroma is spicy and thicker than ever, and more potent an influence on you than the strongest of spirits. “Delightful,” he hums with a resonance that tickles your insides. And there’s no time before he actually is. With just the one, bold hand, he bypasses the lacy hem of your shift and embeds two fingers straight into your pliant cunt. Immediately you are boneless and require his shoulders for support, flagging over him like a damsel courting unconsciousness. You’re very much awake, however, because you feel it all. The quivering of your cunt as he stretches you in slow, circular motions. The press of his fingertips as he palpates your g-spot with enough power to weaken your knees. And then, most peculiarly, how he advances into you even at his knuckles’ limits. What felt like fingers before are now far too thick and flexible to be considered as such. The tendrils that penetrate you lash and writhe along the limits of your pussy, caressing the puckered opening in your cervix. The girth of him transformed is almost too much to bear, but you’d rather be torn asunder than risk his withdrawal. You don’t even think to question the unearthly occurrence. It’s far more gratifying than any appendage a mortal can offer.

But despite your best to keep him, The Devil withdraws. Slowly, painfully, he dislodges his digits from your sticky cunt, until there’s nothing there but an intolerable ache. You tremor as you raise yourself from his shoulders, poised to beg his return. “I need more,” you’re starved; raspy. “Please.”

He doesn’t capitulate to your pitiful plea. Instead, he removes his hand from beneath your skirt, fingers demonstrably fingers. They shine with slick so thick it barely runs. And vacant from his index finger is the ring you swear embellished him once. Confusion can’t establish itself before he ensnares you in his sordid eyes once more. “Sign mine book. Kiss these lips. Thy soul is the price,” he’s guttural but hushed all at once, and before you can fathom his proposition he produces a book in his unsoiled hand. Inlaid with bone and scale, the tome looks primeval. The spoiled, aged pages flip to one without entries, and Seokjin smears your essence in its margins. You require no further explanation.

The quill lies immaculate and waiting. “I can have anything I want?”

“All that thou wishest,” his tongue moves more than his lips do; a serpent behind sharp teeth.

It hurts to behold him much longer. The eyes that bore, unabating, into you; you feel him already taking stock of your soul. He’s in you, somewhere, too hot and too intense. And yet you want more. “Can I have you?”

His self-satisfaction suggests that your request isn’t a revelation to him. Just another of his ploys bearing fruit. “Thou desirest me desecrate your unworthy cunt, girl?” Seokjin waits a beat for your manic head-bobbing. “Very well. Sign thy name.”

You do. There’s no reluctance between your scribbles despite the agony that accompanies it. Each stroke scores itself raw into some unplaceable part of your body; your receipt for this cursed transaction. As your signature dries on the page, it’s with crazed anticipation you meet his waiting gaze. “I’m ready.”

The book slams and disapparates with an ear-shattering snap, but not even that can deter you from your trajectory. Delicately but determinedly, you bend until your lips are a whisper upon his. The kiss doesn’t remain chaste for long, however. Seokjin’s tongue pours like molten lava into your mouth, scalding all it touches. Your eyes drift closed while twined by tongue, and it’s then that he seizes you into a steely embrace. Rough, ravenous hands drag you from the sofa and plant you to the floor beneath him. His heat and weight are suffocating, wonderfully so, and each lap of his tongue is a lick of flame purifying you of misery.

God, you think, staring through the ceiling as Seokjin sinks his whetted fangs into your breast. Let me burn.

#seokjin #kim seokjin #jin #seokjin smut #jin smut #seokjin scenarios #jin scenarios #satan baby #reupload

[helloprettybb]

deja vu

I’m sorry for being so inactive but heres a decently long Spencer x reader because I’m obsessed with Spencer right now. Also I wrote about half of this on my phone so if there are grammatical errors I am sorry. Also I’ve never seen this gif of Spencer so that’s why I put it. It doesn’t really have anything to do with the story.

Warnings: a little angst but fluff ending

Word count: 1.8k

“I love you, Y/n,” Spencer confesses.

You smile and reply, “I love you, too.” At those words, Spencer gently connects his lips to yours. You respond with a kiss, equally soft. Almost as if you’ve been waiting for this moment for years, you deepen the kiss and card your fingers through his hair. Spencer’s experience surprises you as his mouth lowers to your neck. The soft kisses on your neck cause you to moan. Missing the sweet taste of his lips, you guide him back to your mouth and lean into him. Unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer-

Snapping out of your dream, you pant heavily as you try to get your bearings. “You did not just have a dream about Spencer,” you think with your head in your hands. Spencer Reid. Your nerdy coworker who you only see and will always see as a brother. He’s your brother, right? Then why did that dream feel so right? Even the imaginary feeling of your hands in his hair felt good. Oh and his lips. Just the thought of them made you melt. You didn’t realize you spent so long sorting out your feelings until your usual alarm goes off. You turn it off and force yourself to get out of bed. You slip out of your pajamas and hop into the shower. Stepping out of the shower, you went through the rest of your morning routine, going through the motions, still distracted by your confusing feelings. Did you like Spencer in that way? 

Walking into work, the first person you saw was, of course, him. Before he could try to talk, you pulled out your phone and pretended to be deeply invested when you walked briskly past him. You could feel his confused and maybe even hurt, look on his face as it burned on your back but you urged yourself to carry on. At your desk, you searched for the drawer that held your piled-up paperwork, from all the impromptu cases. Unfortunately, Spencer sits across from you and it took all your effort to prevent yourself from gazing up at his adorably concentrated face.

When you felt your strength diminishing, you popped up from your chair and walked to the bathroom. You go to the sink and wash your hands obsessively.

“What’s wrong with you and Spencer?” a voice asks you. Startled, you jump back and turn to see JJ.

“Nothing’s wrong, J.” you reply shakily, trying to sound convincing but knowing she could read through your lie.

“Just tell me what’s wrong, Y/n” she pleads patiently.

“Nothing, everything is fine!” you snap. Slack-jawed and taken aback by your sudden rise in temper, JJ starts toward the door. You quickly apologize,“I’m sorry, JJ,” Sighing, you continue, ”I’ve just had a bad day. I didn’t mean to lash out.”

JJ softens and responds, “It’s okay. Just know that if anything’s bothering you, you can always talk to me.” She gives your arm a soft squeeze before leaving the bathroom. You sigh at the thought of dealing with your inner conflict about Spencer and walk out of the bathroom.

Strolling to your desk, you find Spencer staring at you, causing you to quickly look the other way as casually as possible. When you sit down, Spencer opens his mouth to speak when you pull out your phone and dial a number. Luckily she answers immediately and you ask, “Hi, Erica, Do you want to go to lunch?” After a couple moments, you reply, “Okay, great! I’ll see you in half an hour.” You hang up and quickly go to your paperwork. Hoping Spencer would get the message that you were busy, you continue your work.

When twenty minutes of silence pass, you set down your pen and close the case file. Before Spencer could get a word in, you pop out of your seat and grab your purse. Turning your back to him, you exit the BAU which leaves Spencer less confused and very much hurt.

You arrive at lunch early, so you get a table and wait. Only a couple minutes pass before your friend sits across from you. “Now don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for finally getting lunch. But why, today? Whenever I try to set something up, you turn me down for Spencer.” You involuntarily cringed at his name. She picks up on it and asks, “Is there something wrong with you and Spencer?”

“No, it’s nothing.” you deny vehemently before she could dig deeper.

But it’s too late since she begs, “Please, Y/n, I’m your best friend. Tell me what’s wrong. Also, you can’t keep anything from me.”

Finally giving in, you sigh, “Fine, I had this dream that Spencer and I were together.” Erica raises her eyebrow, still not understanding the weight of the situation. “The thing is, I liked it. The entire day, I thought it was just the dream, but now I realized I do like him, but I don’t think he likes me back.”

“Why not?” she asks in a motherly tone.

“Because Spencer’s not like that. He doesn’t develop little crushes. He probably just sees me as a friend.” you convey sadly.

Erica rests her hands on yours and assures, “Y/n, you are the smartest, funniest, most beautiful girl I know. And by how much you talk about him, I know Spencer likes you.”

“You really think so?” you ask uncertainly.

“I know so. Besides, even if I’m wrong. it seems like you and Spencer have a strong enough bond that you can overcome it.” Erica affirms.

Entering the BAU, you had a new burst of energy since you knew what you had to do. You were playing through how you were going to tell Spencer when you saw him talking to a new agent. At first, you tried to brush it off as friendly conversation, but when she not-so-subtly touched his arm, you couldn’t deny it. Strolling back to your desk, you couldn’t deny the damper their conversation put on your mood. You didn’t have enough time to recover as Spencer sat down in his desk.

He started, “Hi Y/n,” But before he could finish your name, you whirled your chair around to fave your computer, which ultimately caused him to stare at your back, quieting him. A part of you felt bad and knew that you should be mature, but you couldn’t help it. Whenever you looked at him, you thought of his soft lips passionately kissing yours. And whenever you heard his voice, you couldn’t help but hear: I love you.

Being the newest agent on the team, you luckily had the least amount of paperwork to catch up on which allowed you to finish quickly. After turning in the files to Hotch, you grabbed your purse and headed out.

In all the goodbyes, there was one you heard distinctly. “Bye, Y/n.” his voice cut through the others like a blade. To prevent starting anything with him, you wordlessly wave goodbye as you open the doors. Entering the elevator, you see everyone still working, but him. Spencer’s staring at you and even from the distance, you could see the hurt in his eyes. You thought of running out of the elevator to hug him, but your feet couldn’t move and the doors closed.

Spencer’s POV

“Why was Y/n ignoring me,” Spencer inquires to himself as he stuffs his things into his bag “Did I do something wrong? I mean, she didn’t even want to eat lunch with me. Or she coincidentally wanted to go to lunch with her friend. Maybe I’m reading into this too much,” he mutters.

“What are you talking about, kid?” Morgan questions confusedly as he nears the doors out of the BAU.

“It’s just that Y/n has been ignoring me all day,” he explains. “I feel like I did something wrong, but I don’t remember what.”

“Maybe you should ask her,” Morgan suggests offhandedly as he texted Savannah on his phone.

“B-but I can’t.” Spencer stutters.

“Why not, kid?” Morgan shoves his phone into his pocket, suddenly interested in Spencer’s situation.

“No, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not that.” Morgan raises his eyebrow, prompting Spencer to elaborate, “I just, I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Just ask if she’s okay.” Morgan advises and as he starts to walk away he mutters, “I’m sure it’d land a date with her.”

Spencer snaps his head up and asks,“What’d you say?”

“Nothing, see you Monday, Spencer,” Morgan tells and walks into the elevator so Spencer couldn’t see his sly grin. Spencer looks at Morgan suspiciously as the elevator doors shut. He grabs the last of his things and leaves, knowing what he had to do.

Your POV

Hours after leaving work, you hear a knock on the door. It was too late for any delivery, so assuming it’s a neighbor, you swing open the door. Unbeknownst to you, a sad, worried Spencer stood right in front of you. “W-what are you doing here?” you stutter.

“I’m here to ask what’s wrong. You’ve been acting weird all day,” he asks with a concerned look on his face.

“I’m fine, j-just go home before it gets too late,” you try to convince him. You keep avoiding his eyes until Spencer finally had enough. As he steps into your apartment, he grabs you by the hand and makes you face him. A gasp uncontrollably escapes your mouth, causing you to look down. Spencer places his other hand under your chin and makes you look him in the eye. 

“Y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.” he pleads desperately. You see the hopelessness in his eyes and you break.

“I- I’m sorry Spencer. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, b-but I had this dream about you a-and we...we were” you couldn’t let it out. You couldn’t bear to actually say the words so you release his hand and walk further into your apartment.

“What did we do?” Spencer asks patiently, closing the door as he follows you inside.

“W-we were saying we loved each other. Then we s-started kissing which turned into making out a-and I’m sorry, Spencer, I didn’t know I-I thought about you that way, but I don’t know anymore a-a-and I’m sorry because I care about you too much to ruin our friendship because of this. So let’s just forget about it.” you ramble almost incoherently.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Spencer comforts while rubbing your shoulder soothingly.

“What?” you ask quietly, tears still glistening in your eyes.

“It’s okay because,” Spencer sighs before confessing, “I like you, too.”

“Y-you do?” you stutter, not believing what you were hearing.

“I was scared that you found out and that was why you were avoiding me,” he admits honestly.

You soften and apologize, “I’m sorry for ignoring you all day. I guess I was afraid to ruin our friendship.”

“Don’t be b-because,” Spencer stutters. “I love you,” he confesses.

You smile and reply, “I love you, too.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds imagine

[this-sapphic-paradise]

Apologies - 3x18 One-shot

Supergirl went behind my back; the words echoed in Kara’s mind as she floated above National City in the night sky. That’s something my mother would do; her heart started beating faster at the sheer idea of Lena truly believing she was anything like Lillian. She crossed a line, and I can never trust her again, Kara started crying before she even realized what was going on, and at that moment she knew she needed to do something to rectify her mistake.

Without thinking twice about it, Kara flew to Lena’s penthouse and landed quietly on the balcony. She could hear Lena walking around in her room, but she knew she was pushing it just by being there in the first place, so knocking on Lena’s bedroom window would be crossing many lines. She knocked on the balcony door instead and waited anxiously until Lena appeared in the living room.

A month ago Lena would have been delighted to see Supergirl, but now things were different; now, instead of greeting Supergirl with a smile, Lena clenched her jaw and steeled herself before opening the door. “Supergirl,” she greeted coolly, “has something happened with Sam?”

Kara missed the smile she would normally get, and she had to duck her head so she could try to contain her tears. Fidgeting with her cape, Kara simply shook her head in response.

Lena frowned at the hero’s demeanor; she had never seen Supergirl acting like that, but she wasn’t about to forget everything Supergirl had said and done to her over… whatever this was. “Are you here to accuse me of being my brother again?” Lena asked, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up.

"N-No!" Kara replied quickly, looking back up at Lena, and as she did so, a surprised little gasp escaped Lena's mouth.

“Y-You’re… you’re crying,” Lena said in complete astonishment.

Kara looked up at the skies and did her best to dry her tears, but there was no point in doing so; the more she tried to control them, the bigger the knot in her throat felt which in turn only made her want to cry harder.

“W-What’s going on?” Lena asked, her voice losing some of its harshness.

Kara bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at Lena, but she couldn’t hold her gaze; with her eyes moving fleetingly to the side, Supergirl stuttered, “Kara Danvers… s-she told me what you said to her… a-about me…”

Oh… Lena thought, so this is what it’s all about... Raising her eyebrow, she asked sarcastically, “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

Kara’s lip trembled – a thousand thoughts running through her head. “S-So that’s really how you feel?” she asked lowly.

Lena frowned and shrugged her shoulders, "Didn't you go behind my back and try to use my personal relationship with James to get something you wanted?" she challenged.

“I did…” Kara reluctantly conceded, “But… it was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Lena scoffed. “A mistake is dialing a wrong number, a mistake is calling someone by the wrong name—" her voice was getting louder the more upset she got, so Lena abruptly stopped talking so she could keep herself in check. Once she was certain she could talk in a normal tone again, she continued, "What you did wasn't a mistake, it was a calculated act."

Kara didn’t want to acknowledge she could have done something so ugly; she didn't want to be that person… but that’s exactly what she had done, and she hadn’t gone over to Lena’s to lie to her. Hanging her head, Kara fidgeted with her fingers and said barely above a whisper, “I-I was scared…”

“Scared of what???” Lena fired back without wasting even a second.

“Of kryptonite!” Kara replied, looking up at Lena with desperate eyes.

Lena scoffed again, and asked with disdain, “Why don’t you admit you’re scared of what I can do with kryptonite?”

Kara’s first instinct was to deny Lena’s claim, to vehemently say she wasn’t scared of her wielding kryptonite, but that wouldn’t be true. "Maybe I am…" she finally said. As the words left her mouth, Lena's eyes welled up with tears, and Kara's eyes widened as an epiphany occurred to her; it was as if up to that moment there was a storm in Kara's mind, and now the clouds were finally clearing. “But it’s not for the reason you’re thinking,” she said, giving a tentative step toward Lena, but her hurt stare made Kara stay put.

“E-Every time we find out someone has kryptonite… it elicits a knee-jerk reaction from my cousin and me,” Kara began to explain. "But we can fight kryptonite; we have friends on our side who would help us if we needed them to; so as much as I hate kryptonite, I could still fight your mom, or your brother, or anyone who wanted to use it against me…"

“Great, you have friends, I get it,” Lena spit back.

Raising her hand to try to appease her, Kara continued as calmly as she could, “What I’m trying to say is that I realize the kryptonite itself wasn’t the problem—”

“It was me, perfect, you can leave now," Lena said, interrupting Supergirl.

“Rao!” Kara balled her fists bringing them to her eyes. “That’s not what I’m trying to say! Please,” she let her hands fall to her sides and sighed, “What I’m trying to say is that I wasn’t afraid of you having kryptonite, I was afraid of losing my friend.”

Lena frowned in confusion, and Kara took the opportunity to continue explaining herself. “At first I was scared of the kryptonite, and it clouded my judgment. All the history between your brother and my cousin on top of all the stress we've been under with the Worldkillers… it brought out the worst in me, and for a second I thought I was losing you too… like Kara was losing Sam… You’re so important to me, Lena… I-I had to make sure you were telling the truth; I couldn't think straight, I needed to know I wasn't letting you slip through my fingers… and yet I started pushing you away first as if that was going to make it hurt less if I ever did lose you…”

Supergirl’s ramble barely made any sense to Lena; it was confusing, to say the least, and yet she understood the fear behind the words because she had gone through something similar with Lex. However, she wasn’t ready to admit that just yet, "We've never been that close, to begin with…" she argued weakly.

Kara tilted her head slightly, and said softly, "A few months ago you said I was a mentor to you, a friend… Was it all just a publicity stunt?"

Lena's fingers dug into her arms, and she clenched her jaw – Supergirl was right.

"We might not spend a lot of time together, but you mean more to me than you'll ever know, Lena. My fear of kryptonite combined with the fear of losing you blinded me to the fact that you'd never do anything to hurt me." Kara took a step closer to Lena, who allowed it to happen this time, and continued, "I didn't come here to make excuses, I came here to try to explain myself, but most importantly, I came here to apologize to you.” Placing a hand over her heart, Kara said earnestly, “I am deeply sorry, Lena. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, and I know that trust takes time to rebuild. I can only hope one day you’ll accept my apology, and that you’ll allow me to show you that I do trust you.”

Lena’s instincts yelled at her to lash out, to cut ties right then and there before she could get hurt again. But she couldn't listen to those instincts; Lena knew if she did what they wanted her to, she'd end up living a miserable, lonely life, and she couldn't have that.

True to her word, Kara wasn’t going to wait for a response from Lena – that would entail expecting forgiveness right away – so she turned around to fly away, but she was stopped by Lena’s voice. “I… I accept your apology,” she said almost timidly.

The relief that washed over Kara was overwhelming, and before she knew what she was doing, she enveloped Lena in a tight embrace. Kara was so happy she almost missed Lena's surprised voice saying, "Um…Supergirl?" And Kara pulled away fast, quickly drying the happy tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

“S-Sorry,” Kara said sheepishly, with a silly little smile on her lips.

Lena’s mind was racing – how come Supergirl is so happy to have her forgiveness?? Why do I mean so much to her?? – but those thoughts were filed away for later reassessment, at that very moment Lena wanted to make one thing very clear, “I forgive you, but the trust I had in you is broken. It’ll take time for us to get where we were, but if you’re willing to put in the effort, so am I.”

“I am! I—” Kara was interrupted by Lena raising her hand as a sign she hadn’t been done talking.

“But, Supergirl,” Lena said seriously; eyes staring deeply into Supergirl’s, "This was strike one, there won't be a strike two; if you break my trust again, we're done for good. Do I make myself clear?"

Biting her lip, Kara nodded in response. “I understand,” she said, “Thank you for the second chance.” With that, Kara flew away.

Lena watched Supergirl disappear into the night sky, and once the hero was gone, Lena finally allowed herself to smile. As she turned in for the night, she noticed how her heart didn’t feel nearly as heavy as it had an hour before; and with hope restored, Lena fell asleep thinking that maybe, just maybe things would really work out for the best.

ko-fi - AO3

A big thank you to @lena-lipbite-luthor for being my beta.

#kara danvers #supergirl #lena luthor #oneshot #supergirl fic #supercorp fic #long post #supercorp