#ignore that i very clearly gave up. pretend she looks great its fine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years

Note

wait draco fucking his arranged marriage wife on a couch after she admitted to still seeing her ex (not knowing he has feelings for her obviously) and he’s like oh? can he fuck you like this tho?

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

warning(s): 18+, adultery, arranged marriage, slight degradation

word count: 3.0k

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long but it ran away from me as i started writing. this is the longest thing i’ve written on tumblr so far and i hope you all enjoy it! one of my own person favorites.

Another day felt like another day wasted in the walls in the stuffy Manor you called home. Except it wasn’t home. And it wasn’t another day.

No. After weeks of trying to get your husband to open up to you, you had had enough. It was an arranged marriage, and although you were no fool and had no pretenses of pretending to love him, you’d at least like to get to know the person you called your husband.

Back in school you had always thought the infamous Draco Malfoy was rather handsome, anyone would be a fool to deny it. He was confident and popular, great at Quidditch, and seemed like the perfect gentleman - everything you could want in a husband. Turns out it was the opposite. All the feelings you thought you might develop for him were unrequited, and he ignored you at every turn.

So you took it into your own hands to get what you were so desperately craving: physical affection. It didn’t take much, truly. All you did was send an owl to your ex boyfriend from your school days and one thing led to another until you were in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and rocked to your core with pleasure.

But now you were back in your ‘home’, wasting away within the walls of the Manor with your husband nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t until hours later, when you were getting ready to push yourself up from the couch to head to bed, did the fireplace flash green, signaling his arrival home.

“Hello. How was your day?” You asked politely, hoping just this once he might fall into a normal conversation with you.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not even bothering to look at you as he emptied his pockets and put down his very important briefcase that was a mystery to you.

A blaze of frustration ran through your body, desperate to get more out of this man than just one word. A crazy thought came into your head, to tell him about your day, but you pushed it aside. No, Malfoy’s wouldn’t think highly of a girl who committed adultery within weeks of marriage. But…

“My day was great,” you told him, rather impulsively.

At first he seemed shocked that you even said anything, the conversation usually reached its end by now. But he recovered quickly, politely asking “And what was so great about your day?”

Naturally, you could lie. Tell him you met up with your female friends for lunch. Tell him you read a good book. Tell him anything but the truth. But…

“I reacquainted myself with my ex boyfriend from school,” you told him, daring to look him in the eye as you spoke.

“Reacquainted? How?” He asked, a series of emotions flashing over his face that you had never seen before. It sent a thrill through you to see him showing any emotions at all.

Again, you could lie. Tell him you met him for lunch. Tell him that you ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Tell him anything but the truth. But…

You knew even if the truth did come out, he would have to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t dare be seen as a spineless cuckold as his wife went around sleeping with whomever she pleased.

“I owled him a few days ago, asking to meet him,” you began, watching as his face contorted into something akin to anger. “I went to his home, for lunch, and it didn’t end with lunch.”

You left the end of your short story rather ambiguous, wanting to see what he’d do with the information you presented him. He had barely moved from his place by the fireplace, but the look he was giving you could set you up in flames if he wanted it to.

“So, what? You fucked him?” He asked, the politeness in his voice giving way to the anger he was feeling.

In a sick way, it pleased you to see him angry. Gave you a sense of pride that you, the wife he had seen fit to ignore, could get such a rise out of him.

“Yes, seeing as you haven’t even touched me,” was your spiteful reply, foolishly placing the blame all on him despite your own actions.

“You stupid, silly little girl,” he said under his breath as he stalked over towards you, menacing in just how much bigger he was than you. “You don’t fucking understand a thing about me, do you?” He asked, hovering over you, his hands braced on the back of the couch that you were still seated on, your faces inches apart.

“You don’t let me. You never speak to me,” you argued, ready to turn this into a fight filled with low blows if he really wanted it to go that way.

“You think this is a fucking walk in the park for me? Having some girl I’ve barely met in my house looking terrified of me every time I come near her? Suffering through your daily attempts to talk to me, but knowing how unbearably uncomfortable you are in being here? You think I wanted this? For either of us?” He asked seamlessly, almost in a rush to get all of his thoughts out before he thought better of it. A look of hesitation passed his face for a brief moment before he continued on, more quietly now. “You think I wanted the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off for a single day after fifth year hating being in my presence? Going behind my back to fuck someone else because I’ve held myself back in case she was uncomfortable doing anything more than just acting like my wife?”

He didn’t meet your eye at first, but when he did you saw the weight of his emotions. He was hurt, by himself and by you. He was jealous of the man you had chosen to spend your day with. He was terrified of your reaction to his words. He was furious he even had to have this conversation, in this way, in this situation. He was relieved he finally got it all out.

“Wh- What are you saying?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to twist his words to meet your own fantasy of having a loving husband.

He took a deep breath before he answered, but made no moves to rid himself of his proximity to you. “Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you since the moment we met. But having an arranged marriage, I couldn’t do much more but assume you didn’t share the same feelings as me.”

“Oh,” was all you could even say back, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. You searched his eyes for the lie, but they held nothing but the raw truth. He must have seen something in your eyes as well, because his tone shifted into something else entirely before he spoke again.

“Now, Y/N, I think we got off on the wrong foot and I didn’t make my intentions clear with you. I intend to be a good husband, a loving husband. And yet despite my best efforts to be the perfect gentleman so far, you went behind my back to sleep with some other man. And what does that say about you?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours as he spoke.

You were sure he could hear your heart rate from how close he was, your pulse racing at his words. “I- I don’t know,” you stuttered, willing to let him take this wherever he saw fit.

“I’m not going to place the blame all on you, because I know I haven’t been perfect. But one might say that you’re a dumb little whore, and I might be inclined to agree. A stupid, little girl trapped in her big, posh Manor. Going out to let any guy fuck her, not even knowing that her husband can fuck her better than anyone else could.”

“And you could fuck me better than someone I know can?” You asked incredulously, shocked at the words spilling from his mouth. But even if you tried, you couldn’t deny the way he was so sure of himself, so sure he could please you better than any man, aroused you to no end.

He let out a dark chuckle and looked at you, amused. “Of course I could, darling. That is, if you give me the chance,” he told you in a teasing tone, before pushing himself off of the couch to walk away.

“Wait,” you started, once again acting on impulse. You might regret your next words, but damn it if you weren’t curious. And he was your husband after all. “Prove it.”

“Prove it?” He asked, turning on his heel to face you again, a victorious grin written across his face. When you nodded, he only lifted a brow before he continued. “Now? Haven’t you had a long day of, oh how did you put it, ‘getting reacquainted with your ex’?”

“You talk a big game, Draco. Now I’m asking you to prove it. Scared?” You asked, baiting him.

In a split second and a flurry of movement later, he had you laying down against the couch, pressed into the expensive fabric, with his weight on top of you, pinning you down.

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out of this. Tell me now, otherwise I’m going to fuck you through this couch,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly fed up with your antics.

Without even thinking, your lips crashed onto his in a heated kiss. Lips you hadn’t felt since your wedding day. You hadn’t even remembered what they felt like until his tongue was darting along your bottom lip, hastily requesting entry.

As your kiss remained heated, he was expertly shedding you both of your clothing until you were almost bare. He had only left you in your small, lace thong in the aftermath of his destruction.

His hands traveled your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve and edge of your skin. The moment your bra came off, your breasts were in his hands, easily rolling your nipples until you were gasping for air. He swallowed all your noises greedily, as if you were feeding them to a starved man.

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his hands resting on the waistband on your underwear, did you have a moment for a coherent thought.

“One last time, are you sure Y/N?” He asked as if it was painful for him. As if it was the case that you said no, it would be immensely difficult for him to pull himself away. As if it was the case that you said no, he’d die a painful death at your feet.

“I’m sure,” you said softly, not wanting him to think for a second that you had any hesitant thoughts about this moment.

As he slowly pulled down your final layer of clothing, it gave you a chance to finally look at him.

And he was beautiful.

He looked like an ancient Greek statue, perfectly carved and crafted out of marble come to life. His perfectly defined lines, his impossible definition, his muscles in all the right places. Your eyes eventually traveled down to his cock, and your breath hitched when you finally saw how large he was. If you had known this all along, perhaps you wouldn’t have sought out another man for your pleasure.

He seemed to be taking you in just the same. His eye trailing down your body with such reverence that you felt like an ancient Greek goddess yourself, if only for a moment.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear the words.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, giving him a shy smile when his eyes met yours again.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” he told you, still in the soft tone that he had. He gracefully let his body fall back over yours, bracing himself on one forearm while his other hand traveled the length of your body.

When he caught your lips again, it didn’t hold the same heat as before, but there was something new there. Something good. Something that could only be translated through your lips in that very moment. Something akin to adoration, worship, even love.

His hand stopped its travels at the apex of your thighs, expertly running his fingers over your clit and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm you were, and you felt his cock twitch against your stomach in anticipation.

He slowly opened you up for him with his fingers. First with one, then two, even venturing to three before he was content that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He didn’t rush the process, kept a slow, steady, predictable pace as he worked your body. And every time you got close to the edge, he’d gently bring you back down, leaving you a whining, writhing mess by the time he was aligning his cock with you.

“Draco, please,” you begged shamelessly, more than ready for him.

“Did you beg for him earlier?” He asked almost nonchalantly, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

He must have seen the shock on your face, shocked that he would bring it up in this moment, because he only chuckled before pushing inside of you, a gasp easily pulled from your lips at the intense stretch.

He didn’t fuck you gently, immediately starting with a breakneck pace that left you seeing stars from the first moment he bottomed out. You were easily rewarding him with your moans, letting him know just how good it felt without words. You couldn’t speak even if you tried.

But he talked. Oh, yes. He ran that pretty mouth of his as if he wasn’t thrusting so deep inside of you the couch was rocking.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” He asked, right as you were beginning to climb that peak into a pleasurable abyss.

You gave him a feeble nod in return, not trusting your own mouth to properly respond.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, biting the question out through clenched teeth as if he was dreading the answer. “Tell me, Y/N, did he?” He asked, fucking you even harder now in his frustration.

“No,” you cried out, breaking free of your moans for a second to answer him. “He can’t fuck me like this,” you added, if only to stroke Draco’s ego, but nevertheless it was true. No one could fuck you like this.

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” Draco said, lowering his head into the crook of your neck to ground himself, trying to fight off his orgasm until you got yours.

It didn’t take much longer after that. He had worked you up so much beforehand that your orgasm came to you easily and came with such a force you were left breathless in its wake. Your nails carved down Draco’s muscular back, sure to leave delightful scratch marks that you could study later, as you cried out in bliss.

The moment he felt your walls contract around him, he let himself go with a low groan. The sound was music to your ears, and only intensified the feelings you were experiencing. To have him so close, sharing in the same ecstasy you were, it was like magic.

When you both came down from your highs, he swiftly rearranged the both of you until you wrapped in his arms, both lying on the couch. It was a strange feeling, being in his arms for the first time like this. If someone had told you this would be happening only a few hours before, you would have laughed in their face. But now here you both were, sweaty and satiated, basking in the bliss of finally consummating your marriage.

The thought made you giggle, and when he shot you a perplexed look, you couldn’t help but explain.

“We finally consummated our marriage,” you explained, still giggling. “And don’t worry, by the way, I’m on the potion,” you thought to add, just in case kids weren’t looming in the future for him.

“Good to know you won’t be birthing any bastard children,” was his sullen response, clearly still hurt by the events of the day.

You shifted your body until you were looking directly at him, but he made no moves to pull his arms away from you. If anything, he held you tighter when he felt you move, unwilling to give up the moment.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did today. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to you. And if I had known even a fraction how you felt about me, I wouldn’t have done it, because I feel the same about you. I was just feeling incredibly stuck in what I thought was a hopeless marriage, and I was lonely, so I sought out someone else. But now I understand that that isn’t the case, and I can promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that it will never happen again,” you told him, putting everything out there for him.

“You feel the same?” He asked timidly, after a moment of deliberation. There was a look of hope on his face, and never in your wildest dreams would you shut down such a rare display of emotion from him. Then again, you may be expecting more of his emotions from here on out.

“Yes. I’ve always been attracted to you, and the little bits of you that I do know, I like. I want this to work, Draco. I want this to be a real marriage. All I wanted was a shot.” you said, just praying he wanted the same.

“‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t a good husband to you by any means, and I probably unknowingly pushed you into doing what you did. But now that our intentions are out there, I’d like nothing more than to give this a real shot,” he responded, that newly familiar look of hope in his eyes present once more.

In that moment, you could both feel it. The beginning of something great.

#Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #draco malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy blurb

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handwrittenhello · 3 years

Text

gave you wings

T, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, 4k, modern-with-magic AU. When Geralt is woken one morning by a crow tapping at his window, he finds that it's no ordinary crow--it's a shifter, bound in animal form by a nasty spell.

read here on ao3, or below:

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Geralt was roused from sleep by something persistent tapping at his window. With a groan, he rolled over—catching sight of his alarm clock flashing 3:48 as he did—and went to investigate.

He hoped it wasn’t one of the local kids again—lately they’d become far too fond of daring each other to throw rocks at his windows. It almost made him long for the times when witchers were feared and hated—nobody would dare risk provoking him so stupidly.

When he opened the window, though, it wasn’t kids throwing rocks—no, a crow sat on his windowsill, a pebble clutched in its beak, which it promptly dropped when it saw Geralt.

“Scram,” Geralt muttered, waving it away, but all it did was hop sideways a bit before letting out a loud caw.

Geralt furrowed his brow. “Get out of here,” he said a bit louder, trying to shoo it away again. It deftly avoided his hands, flapping a little to maintain balance on the narrow sill, before hopping onto his hands and letting out an even louder CAW.

This was no ordinary crow. Why else would it be tapping on his window so early in the morning, and so unafraid of his closeness? “Fuck,” he muttered, and left the window open while he went to brew a pot of coffee.

The crow seemed quite at home perched atop his kitchen counter, watching him with its beady eyes as he leaned back against the fridge and downed a cup of heavily sugared coffee. “So,” Geralt finally said, setting down his mug on the counter. “What’s so important that you got me out of bed at four in the morning for?”

The crow drew itself up and ruffled its feathers, as if readying itself for a speech. It was a strangely human gesture—Geralt was reminded that they wouldn’t get very far with the crow not being able to speak.

“Hm. Can you even understand me?” Geralt backtracked, earning himself an indignant look and a low rattling sound. But the crow bobbed its head up and down in a sure nod. “But you can’t speak.” Another nod.

The crow hopped closer, then, until it was almost atop Geralt’s hand lying on the countertop. Geralt caught a flash of something shiny around its leg—was there something wrapped around it? But when he made to reach for it, the crow skittered backwards, making another low rattle and fluffing up its feathers.

“It’s alright, I just want to look,” Geralt soothed, stilling his hand. The rattle stopped, and the bird hopped hesitantly closer. Geralt waited for it to come to him, motionless and patient. Only when it perched on his hand did he bring it closer, peering intently at its leg.

A silver chain, so fine as to be nearly invisible to the eye, wound its way around the crow’s leg. This close, he could see the barely-there, shimmering aura around it—it was surely enchanted. Likely a binding charm—chains rarely served any other purpose in spells.

Geralt whistled lowly. “No ordinary crow, then,” he surmised, though he’d already known. “Human?”

The crow rattled its displeasure at the term—so it wasn’t transfigured, then. But it was still clearly sentient—

“Ah,” Geralt said, an idea dawning. “A shifter.”

Sometimes called weyr, in the old tongue—as survived in words like werewolf—the species was exceedingly rare. Even before monsters and chaos had dwindled down to nearly nothing, one would be hard-pressed to encounter a shifter, let alone recognize one upon seeing it. In human form, they were indistinguishable from anyone else, by the naked eye or by magic. They retained their wits in their animal form, too, so unless one was careless enough to be seen shifting, it was nigh impossible for them to be caught.

Their rarity had made them a target by mages and non-mages alike—they were either hunted in hopes of harnessing their unique connection to chaos, or else were pursued by the ignorant who feared anything strange.

It was nothing short of a miracle, one showing up at Geralt’s door (or window, rather).

“Someone caught you. A mage,” Geralt guessed. Only a powerful magic user would be able to bind a shifter so thoroughly. “But why are you here?”

The crow cawed and launched itself towards Geralt’s throat. Geralt jerked his head back, but he had nothing to fear—the crow was pecking at the witcher medallion that lay in the hollow of his throat.

“My friend, you’d be far better off going to a mage. I have skill with breaking curses, but none so complex as yours,” Geralt confessed.

The crow let out an ear-splitting screech. Geralt slammed his hands over his ears. That would be a resounding no, then. He decided not to broach the matter of payment just then.

He eyed the crow, wary of another reaction. When none was forthcoming, he cautiously lowered his hands, the crow watching him intently all the while—waiting for an answer.

“I’ll help you,” Geralt decided. Well, he had decided the moment he’d let the crow inside, really, but it was easier to pretend he’d made an informed decision. “May I see the charm again?”

The crow obliged, fidgeting in place but mostly managing to hold still while Geralt inspected the chain. Though it was fine, he doubted it would be as simple as snapping it—that didn’t stop him from trying anyway, though the moment he touched it, the crow screeched and beat him back with its wings, before retreating to atop the fridge. There it huddled, fussing fretfully at its leg—and then Geralt saw, almost obscured by feathers but visible when looking for it, the dark skin beneath the chain, the blackened marks that resulted from a bad burn.

“Enchanted and cursed, then. I apologize.” The crow glared at him, not moving from its spot stop the fridge and out of reach. “I won’t touch it again. I promise,” Geralt vowed, sorry that he had caused any pain in the first place.

The crow huffed, but flapped back down to the counter. It watched Geralt, waiting for his next move.

“Come with me,” Geralt said, grabbing his jacket and keys.

The crow gripped the handlebars of Geralt’s motorbike tightly, the wind whipping past and threatening to dislodge it. It kept starting to open its wings, only to force them closed again, as if it was reminding itself that it wasn’t actually flying. Geralt kept a close watch anyway, afraid that if he took a turn too sharply or revved the engine too suddenly, the crow would be thrown off and crushed beneath the wheels of another vehicle.

Should’ve taken a taxi, Geralt thought to himself, but it was too late now. They were already on the freeway to Vengerberg, where a certain violet-eyed sorceress kept a summer home. He supposed he could have called ahead, but he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of cell phones—always forgot it whenever he went anywhere—and besides, Yennefer always appreciated a good surprise.

Geralt chased the sun east, watching as the horizon in front of him slowly went from indigo blue to purple to stunning gold as the sun rose. They crossed the border into Aedirn sometime mid-morning, and Geralt pulled over to a rest stop to refuel and grab something to eat.

The crow perched atop his shoulder as he entered the gas station, preening its feathers into place after being disturbed by the wind. The attendant stared openly, though Geralt was sure she must have seen weirder. He ignored it and grabbed a packet of sunflower seeds for the crow and some beef jerky for himself.

“Five sixty-eight,” the attendant said when he came up to the register, followed by, “Nice pet.”

The crow looked up from its preening and cawed loudly at her.

“He’s not a pet,” Geralt said mildly, then grabbed his food and left. While he stretched his legs out at a picnic table, the crow stretched its wings, flapping in circles above his head. Every so often, it would land briefly on the table and peck at the sunflower seeds Geralt had scattered there, before returning to its circling.

Geralt ate his jerky leisurely, and debated going back in for a soda.

After half an hour, Geralt felt they had delayed long enough. The crow was likely anxious to get going, and Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well. He got to his feet and whistled for the crow, which had steadily flown in greater and greater circles, and had since disappeared briefly from sight. Geralt wasn’t overly worried—until the crow didn’t show up. Geralt wished he knew what to call it—he would’ve felt stupid calling it ‘crow’.

He whistled again, louder and longer this time. Nothing happened for one second, two, and then Geralt heard it, and only thanks to his enhanced senses—frantic cawing and flapping wings among the trees behind the rest stop.

He broke out into a run, pushing aside the thin branches that snapped at his face as he fought his way through the undergrowth. The cawing was near, now, and Geralt heard tense voices accompanying.

“The cage—get the cage—!”

Geralt broke through the trees to a small clearing, stopping stunned at the sight in front of him. A silver woven net lay tangled in a heap on the ground in one corner, and opposite was a steel cage, door hanging open and waiting for an occupant. There were feathers scattered everywhere, and Geralt smelled traces of blood in the air.

And in the middle of the clearing was the source of the commotion—the crow flapped wildly above the heads of two men, talons extended and trying to scratch at their faces, while they flailed about with nets, not unlike the kind used to catch insects, though a bit bigger. A third man, older, wizened, stood apart, his eyes closed in concentration as he muttered something under his breath. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.

Stregobor.

It had been centuries since Geralt had seen him, though he’d heard plenty about his latest exploits in the news—he was said to be making great strides in magical research, investigating transformative magic and its applications. Geralt had often tuned it out, but now it all made sense—if he wasn’t the one who had bound the crow shifter to a single form for some nefarious purpose, Geralt would eat his bike.

He wasted no time in instantly tackling Stregobor to the ground, disrupting the spell he was casting. The crow seemed to be holding its own against the two men with nets for the time being, though Geralt knew he needed to hurry—the scent of blood was growing stronger, the crow actively bleeding. He had the element of surprise, and didn’t waste it—he grappled with Stregobor, surprised at the strength the old mage still had even after so many centuries.

There was a sudden cry of pain behind him—Geralt thought it was human and not avian, but he couldn’t tell for sure. It distracted him momentarily, and that was all Stregobor needed to shout something in Elder that had Geralt flying backwards.

His back hit the ground hard, stunning him for half a second. Stregobor got to his feet, brushing the debris from his clothes—he still wore robes, even after all this time—and shot a bolt of light towards the crow.

It hit it in the wing, sending it tumbling out of the air in a heap of feathers. One of the men with a net—the only one still standing, the other writhing on the ground and clutching his bleeding face—slammed his net down onto the motionless crow with far too much force.

Geralt caught his breath and rolled to his feet, launching himself at the man that had the crow captive. He knocked him unconscious easily with a swift blow to the head, but that was as far as he got before Stregobor sent another pulse of magic towards him.

He dodged. It missed him by a hair, screaming past his head and exploding against a tree behind him.

“Stay out of this, witcher,” Stregobor warned, readying another spell. “This doesn’t have to concern you.”

“Let the shifter go and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Stregobor replied, and threw the spell at Geralt. Geralt dodged again, but too slowly—it clipped his arm. Hot, agonizing pain spread from the area.

If this turned into a fight between magic and witcher skills, there was no question who would win. Geralt made a snap decision, scooping the crow off the ground and darting out of the clearing, heading back towards the rest stop.

Stregobor was hopefully depleted after the many spells he had already cast—Geralt could only hope that he wasted the rest of his energy by chasing him through the brush. If they could just get to Yennefer’s…

Sure enough, as he sprinted towards his bike, Geralt heard Stregobor yelling curses behind him. Once or twice a bolt of magic went flying by, but it missed every time.

As Geralt broke through the tree line, he hoped that he had finally lost Stregobor. He straddled his bike and tucked the crow inside his jacket, hissing in apology when he jarred the crow’s injured wing. With a roar of the engine he peeled out onto the freeway, speeding east to Vengerberg.

Though there was nobody pursuing them, Geralt still felt hunted as he pulled his bike into Yennefer’s expansive driveway. He all but ran to her door, pounding urgently on it, regretting not calling ahead so that she knew to expect them.

Luckily, she answered only moments later. “Do you have wards up?” was the first thing Geralt asked.

“Yes. Do you know how alarming it is for that to be the first thing you say after not seeing each other for months?” Yennefer asked, beckoning him in.

“Have to be sure,” Geralt grunted. “Got a problem, and I don’t know if I was followed.”

“Would it kill you to bring flowers or wine instead of a problem every time you come by?” Yennefer sighed. “What is it?”

Geralt unzipped his jacket and carefully extracted the crow. It was no longer unconscious, but drowsy would be an understatement—it looked on the verge of a coma, eyes half-closed and breathing shallow. A few loose feathers drifted to the ground.

“Pest Services might be more apt,” Yennefer started to say, but paused when the silver chain caught her eye. “Ah. Binding spell? Friend of yours?”

“No. I’m for hire,” Geralt said, conveniently leaving out the part where he’d received no such payment. “It’s a shifter. Wanted by Stregobor—probably for research.”

The skin around Yennefer’s eyes tightened ever so slightly—he dared to call it concern for the shifter—and she gritted her teeth—and that he knew was deep-rooted hatred for Stregobor.

“Bring him to my workroom.”

He followed her upstairs, where she kept most of her magical equipment. With a wave of her hand, she cleared the books and various sundries from the worktable against the wall, and indicated for Geralt to lay the crow down on it. He did so carefully, mindful of its injuries, and hesitantly stepped back. Yennefer didn’t appreciate hovering, but he couldn’t fight back his protective instincts that had been roaring ever since the fight.

Yennefer leaned over the crow, inspecting. Her hands went to the chain, and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t,” he warned, stepping forward and reaching out as if to physically stop her.

“I know,” she snapped back. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen a binding spell or two in my time, Geralt.” But she showed demonstrably more care in handling the crow, then, lest he become alarmed again.

She moved on to inspecting the crow’s wing, then, frowning at what she saw. “This was a magical injury, yes?”

“Yes. One of Stregobor’s spells—it was a bolt of light, caught it in the wing.”

“Well, lucky for it, the damage is physical only, from what I can tell. Stregobor likely meant to stun it only. Hence the lifelessness. It’ll wear off within the hour.”

Geralt let out a sigh of relief at hearing the diagnosis. Physical injuries, those he knew what to expect, how to deal with them. Now what worried him most was the binding spell.

“And the chain? Can you remove it without hurting it?”

Yennefer pursed her lips. “No. It’s an extremely strong bond—the sort not taken as a trifle. Forging a connection like this without the shifter’s consent…” She shook her head. “It’s a violation of the worst sort, Geralt.”

Geralt’s heart thudded in his chest. He wet his lips. “So what do we do?” He gazed at the poor crow, looking so small and hopeless where it lay. He couldn’t put words to his horror—being bound body and soul, and to Stregobor, no less.

“There are… theories, things I’ve read, but you have to understand,” Yennefer said, pinning his gaze, “I don’t suggest what I’m about to lightly.”

A pit formed in Geralt’s stomach. “What is it?” It couldn’t be worse than the binding spell, could it?

“If we formed another bond, one even stronger than this, it would give us room to throw off the old one. But the strength required… it would be ironclad, unbreakable. The shifter would spend the rest of its very long life bound to us.”

Even now, some eight hundred years later, Geralt thought back to the djinn in Rinde, to the connection that had once bound their destinies together, and he knew she was remembering it too. “Yen…” he trailed off. How did he put it to words? How did he express his understanding, acknowledge that she was trying to help, while warning her of doing the same thing she’d opposed so strongly then?

But then, looking into her eyes and seeing the haunted look there, he knew that he didn’t have to. She had already had this conversation with herself, and, seeing no other option, had accepted her role as becoming exactly what she hated.

A weak croak caught their attention. Geralt looked over and saw that the crow was looking slightly more lively—it had managed to sit up, at least, though it still looked bedraggled and unsteady. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, and received a delayed nod. Then a thought struck him. “Yen, can you…?”

“Read his thoughts? I would, but they’re too muddled. I don’t know if it’s the result of the spell or if it’s always like this in animal form. I’ve never met a shifter personally, and gods know there’s hardly any literature on them.”

The crow got shakily to its feet, and before either Geralt or Yennefer could stop it, it flew up to perch on Geralt’s shoulder, nuzzling in close to his neck. He instinctively put a hand up to cradle it in place—the last thing it needed was to fall off.

“Well, then? Clearly it’s gotten attached,” Yennefer said, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t—I don’t know.” How could he make this decision? It was too big, too important. He held the shifter’s life in his hands, and the knowledge terrified him.

The crow nipped him on the ear. “Ow,” Geralt complained, but was drowned out by the crow cawing in his ear. He suddenly felt very foolish indeed—the crow had heard them discussing it, must have, and they hadn’t even considered asking it its opinion of the matter. “Hm. I’m sorry that we can’t give you a better option.”

The crow cawed again, softer, and nibbled gently at his ear. It’s alright, it seemed to be saying, or perhaps I understand.

“It’s your decision,” Yennefer said. “I can bind you to us—permanently—in order to break the bond with Stregobor. Or, if you’d rather, you can live out your days here, and I give you my word that no harm will you come to you—though the bond would remain.”

The crow rattled in disgust. It nipped gently once more at Geralt’s ear, then flapped-hopped over to Yennefer’s shoulder, where it began preening her hair. Geralt couldn’t believe that she would allow it, but she made no move to dislodge the crow.

“Is that a yes?” he asked nervously, anticipation curdling in his stomach. The crow stopped its preening, looked directly at Geralt, and bobbed its head up and down neatly.

“Alright,” Yennefer said softly.

They cleared out all the furniture for the ritual that would replace the bond. The crow watched them, perched atop the table, until they had to move that too, and then it clung to Geralt’s shoulder as he worked. Finally, the room was clear, and Yennefer drew a large chalk circle on the floor.

Geralt took his designated seat warily, nerves making his skin prickle. Yennefer sat opposite him, legs crossed, while the crow was sat in between. Yennefer dimmed the lights and closed her eyes—he copied her, relying on his other senses.

He smelled smoke as Yennefer lit the bundle of herbs she’d gathered, heard the soft susurrus of the crow’s feathers as it shifted. As she began to chant, he felt the characteristic tingle of magical energy settling over him like a second skin—the bonding had started.

Yennefer’s chanting grew steadily louder, and behind his eyelids Geralt saw the light of the candles flare even brighter. The crow’s fidgeting grew wilder, and little croaks began to make their way out of its throat.

Geralt hoped it wasn’t hurting—and if it was, he hoped it would be over soon.

He himself was in no pain at all, besides the discomfort that came with all magic cast on him. He gritted his teeth and bore it, until all at once it stopped—the candles went out, Yennefer gasped once, and the silver chain around the crow’s leg fell to the floor with a soft clink.

Geralt’s eyes flew open, and where the crow had been only moments before, there was now a pair of legs—bare—and when Geralt followed them upwards, there was an entire man—also bare. Geralt blinked a few times, mind blank, before averting his gaze.

“Well,” the shifter said, smacking his lips. “That was unpleasant.” And Geralt watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, too quickly for Geralt to catch him.

“He’ll be fine,” Yennefer said, getting to her feet. She swayed a little as she stood, and Geralt ached to steady her—something she would never accept. “The bonding took a lot out of all of us—him most of all.”

Geralt hummed, gathering up the shifter in his arms. He weighed more than he looked—or perhaps Geralt was simply used to his weight as a crow. While Yennefer put her things back in order, Geralt carried the shifter to the guest room, tucking him into bed and feeling strangely fond as he did so.

“It’s the bond,” Yennefer explained, leaning in the doorway and watching the whole affair. She ambled over to the bed and sat down next to the shifter, reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Can you feel it?”

He could, he realized, when he reached deep inside. Just beside the djinn’s magic that tied him to Yennefer, he felt a fledgling something, a fluttering newness that nipped and tugged at his breastbone.

“That’s him?” Geralt asked, though he didn’t need the confirmation—he knew it as surely as he knew himself.

Yennefer nodded, dropping her arm and standing up. “Leave him to his rest. I imagine he’ll need some time to acclimate to the bond—we all will, for that matter.”

Though Geralt wanted nothing more than to stay and study the shifter, watch over him until he woke, he followed Yennefer out of the room, shutting the door softly so as not to disturb him.

The shifter woke some hours later, after Geralt and Yennefer had eaten a late lunch and were debating if it would be worth eating dinner. The shifter stumbled down the stairs, interrupting their discussion, and said, quite plainly, “Are we talking dinner? I’m starving.”

“You’re up,” Yennefer replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” the shifter—Geralt really needed to ask his name—answered. “Sunflower seeds are nice and all, but really, nothing compares to a good hot meal.”

He was wrapped in the bedsheet, Geralt realized suddenly. Of course—he had no clothes. It didn’t seem to overly bother him, though, as he crossed the room and promptly deposited himself on Geralt’s lap, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. Geralt’s hands came up automatically to wrap around his waist.

“And your wing?” Yennefer asked.

“Oh, good as new!” the shifter replied cheerily, untangling his arm from the bedsheet and wiggling it in demonstration. “Healed right up as soon as that awful binding spell was gone.” He turned to look at Geralt. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to help me—I know it was a lot of trouble.”

“It’s alright,” Geralt answered. “I wouldn’t leave you to Stregobor.”

The shifter shuddered. Geralt held him a bit tighter. “Ugh. He caught me unaware—normally I’m careful, but this very handsome man bought me a drink, and then another, and then before I knew it I was being manhandled into the back of a car. And I thought, well, can’t be manhandled if I’m not a man, but then he had that awful chain…”

“You’re not the first to fall victim to him. Though binding a shifter to him is a new low,” Yennefer said darkly.

Guilt tightened in Geralt’s gut. It was different, what they had done—but was it really? It was still a bond the shifter had been forced into. He moved the shifter off his lap, ignoring the hurt look that he flashed him. “Need to go for a walk,” Geralt grunted, and headed for the door.

“Don’t mind him,” he heard Yennefer say behind him. “Let him clear his head and then he’ll be back. In the meantime—what do you say to pasta?”

The door shut heavily behind Geralt, cutting off their voices, giving him room to think. The bond still pulsed heartily in his chest, but like this, it was muted enough for him to catch his breath.

How was the shifter so blasé about it? Surely he understood the fact that he was now permanently bound to two strangers?

Geralt jammed his hands in his pockets and started to walk, focusing only on his feet hitting the ground and the evening calls of the bird around him.

By the time his thoughts had settled and he’d made his way back to the house, the sun was setting, and a deep tiredness was settling into his bones. The early morning and excitement of the day were catching up with him.

He could hear Yennefer and the shifter inside, chatting, and hesitated on the doorstep. He suddenly felt as if he were intruding—what right did he have to storm off in the middle of a conversation and expect them to welcome him back seamlessly? Clearly they were getting along just fine without him.

The door opened suddenly and a gust of wind at his back urged him inside. Yennefer. He let her guide him to the kitchen, where the shifter stood washing dishes at the sink and she sat on the counter. “Ah, you’re back!” the shifter said, setting down the plate it was washing.

“Jaskier was just telling me about your trip here. It sounded quite exciting,” Yennefer teased.

“I like a bit of adventure, but I could do without the almost-kidnapping,” Jaskier said, leaning in closer to Geralt. “Lucky I had you there, I suppose.”

“Hm.” Geralt hesitantly lifted an arm, and Jaskier wasted no time in burrowing into his side. “Lucky.”

“And lucky you have such wonderful friends as Yennefer,” Jaskier continued, looking meaningfully at Yennefer. She raised an eyebrow, but hopped off the counter and sidled closer. Geralt let her sink into his side too, holding them both tightly, and felt the thrumming bond inside of him settle in contentment at having them close.

Lucky indeed.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskefer #yenralt #yenskier #yennskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt/jaskier/yennefer #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #geralt #jaskier #yennefer

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

g.p.s - god, parents suck | m

summary; seokjin just wants to enjoy the disney treatment and you are more than happy to deliver pairing; dilf!jin x hotelier!reader genre/warnings; crack, humor, gets a lil emotional, teenage daughter issues, one very minor allusion to a daddy kink LOL, a very vaguely implied sex scene, so CHEESY w.c; est. 5.1k a/n; wee my first jin fic! this is for @btsghostiewritersnet #DynamiteDads event! I was supposed to go to disney this year but sadly miss rona had to cancel our plans so this is just pure self indulgence. as always thank u to @eerieedits/ @chillingtae for the disney dream fic banner!

if you like it give it a bippity-boppity-boop on the like and share buttons! ✨✨✨

“Left, left!” Seokjin cries, holding onto the emergency break for dear life, “not my left, your left!”

“We’re facing the same way! We have the same lefts!”

“Clearly not if we’re going right, Sweetheart.”

“But the GPS says to go right!”

“In four-hundred feet, keep left at the fork,” Google Maps interrupts pleasantly.

“That’s it. Kim Yeji, pull over!”

“But Daaaaaaaaad,” yet his daughter complies, sadly pulling over at the edge of the road. She doesn’t even have to step on the gas, just turns the wheel slightly so she can land slowly, pathetically on the gravel.

“Angel,” Seokjin says levelly, reaching over to unclick the seatbelt. “I will drive the rest of the way, I gave you time to practice for you have to drive to college but we can’t get on the highway like this.”

“You never let me do anything.”

“What, I do! Who let you go to prom in that sequined excuse for a dress?”

“Uncle Namjoon!”

“Fine, I’ll give him that! Who let you dye your hair to a crisp—”

“Uncle Hoseok!”

“Uncle–” Seokjin is affronted, jabbing the seatbelt in it’s locked position when he gets in the front seat. “Forget it, let’s just have a peaceful drive for the next few hours until we get to the hotel,” he removes Yeji’s phone from the holder, placing it in her lap.

“Dad,” she waves her phone around, pointing to Google Maps, “you need the GPS to get there.”

He scoffs, “No, I don’t. We’ve been to Disney plenty of times. I know where we’re going.”

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time we went to Disney?”

“When you were two? Three?”

Yeji relaxes in her seat, not ready to argue with her dad once more. “Alright, lead the way,” she gestures vaguely to the empty parkway, devoid of life for miles.

Seokjin is undeterred, reaching over the console to pat Yeji’s blonde hair. He turns on the radio, only to be met with the sound of crunchy static and terrible country music. Cutting the radio, he immediately switches to an old Disney CD, telling Yeji to let it go as he pulls into the open road. Reddish dust clouds around the car briefly, ripping against the tires as they drive off to their hotel.

“Is this the Princess Hotel?”

“Nope, this is the Prince S Hotel.”

You can’t help but grin at the way your current customer’s face falls. He’s a handsome thing, all plush and pillowy in the cheeks and lips. Despite his daughter hanging off his arm like a limp noodle—after all it’s past 2AM and they’ve probably been driving for hours—he still manages to look somewhat put-together despite you telling him they’ve got the wrong place.

“Told you, use the GPS,” her daughter chastises weakly, tucking her cheek in his shoulder.

His kid’s a pretty girl, kind of reminds you of when you were a teenager. “The Princess Hotel is about an hour away on the other side of the Disney resorts,” you say slowly, noting from the way the girl is swaying on her feet that her father must be equally as tired, “although, I would suggest staying here for the night. Your daughter’s about to fall asleep on my counter.”

At the pointed look you’re giving the teen, Seokjin puts a protective hand on her slim shoulders. “Yeji-bear, why don’t you lie down for a bit,” he leads her over to a spare couch. “We’ll call our booked hotel,” he says shortly, looking over his shoulder to give you a forced smile.

Ah, you’ve seen this scene one or two times in your days working at Prince S. A father too prideful to admit he may have messed up just a little with the directions, and a child that probably argued or simmered so hard on the way they’re passed into a stupor on your lobby couch. Tonight, or your early morning is a little special though, you’ve never seen a father as handsome as the one in front of you, exasperatedly calling up their real hotel reservations.

“What? My reservation has been revoked?” her daughter groans when he jostles around his lap, knocking her head, “how can you do that? Past the time? I thought this was Disney!”

You drum your nails against the counter, using your other hand to pull up your guest list for the night on the computer. The father, now furrowed in the face, walks up to you and leaves his daughter on the plush couch.

“One double bedroom for the weekend, please,” the father pulls his cards out, flicking it to your side of the counter. He places down his car keys in the available holder, “I parked out front, you do valet right?”

With a nod, you get to work. “Take it they weren’t very accommodating?”

“They gave our hotel room to some Make-A-Wish Foundation kid!” he cries exasperatedly, hands in the air as you patiently book the room. Your eyes linger longer than usual on his driver’s license and ID: Kim Seokjin. Even his driver’s license mugshot looks handsome. He rests his arms against your counter, despondent. “Is it terrible for me to hate on some kid with a terminal illness?”

“A little,” you shrug, slipping his keycard under his elbow, “but I mean according to your, Yeji-bear,” you can’t help but giggle at the nickname, “if you used the GPS you’d be at the correct hotel.”

“Don’t remind me,” Seokjin glares, hauling his and Yeji’s luggage in one hand, “baby, let’s go upstairs c’mon.”

You watch the small family trudge to the elevators, sleepily walking forward like zombies. No one spares you a second glance, they never do, so it gives you ample courage to take a look at Kim Seokjin’s toned body. Broad shoulders, a Dorito-trimmed waistline, and long legs that you want to climb up on.

Oh, daddy.

“Hey,” Yeji pops up on your counter, looking much perkier than she did hours before, “do you have my dad’s car keys?”

Trying not to raise your brows at your young guest, you give her a smirk, leaning over the counter. A spunky thing, with sharp eyes with a pretty cat-tipped eyeliner shape that has her looking well put-together. You wish you had your shit together as a teenager, you barely have it together now.

“I do,” you quip, “why?”

“I wanna get Starbucks,” she says simply, “the pineapple matcha is to die for, and I want to drink as many summer specials as I can before it’s over.”

“Valid,” you reply, going into your master key to retrieve all the guests’ keys. Taking Seokjin’s from its holder, you note the expensive make. Peering up from your desk, you look at Yeji’s innocent features. Before you place the key in her waiting palm, you snatch it away, “Why do I have the feeling you’re doing something that you’re not supposed to be doing?”

Yeji tilts her head, “I don’t think it’s any of your business,”

Sassy. You like it. “Get me a grande matcha frappe and your secret’s safe with me.”

“Deal.”

Watching Yeji drive off in the large Hyundai Palisade gives you a little twinge of worry, but you quickly tamp it down to motherly instinct. If you were Yeji’s mom—which you’re definitely not, you’d be worried. Naturally, you feel similarly.

The hotel phone rings, the red light from 921 blinking on your switchboard. Flipping down the room number you pick up the receiver, “Prince S Hotel, how can I help you?”

“You do booking, valet, and housekeeping?” Seokjin’s exasperated voice says in your ears, “who would I call if I want breakfast?”

“That would also be me,” you reply wryly, twisting the curly wire between your fingers, “we advertise ourselves as a hotel for the quality, although we are much smaller with only thirty rooms. Sort of like a bed n’breakfast, getting the true royal treatment.”

“Would the royal treatment consist of some extra towels and a continental breakfast?”

“You got it.”

A little cliché of you to do the whole “whistle while you work” segment—a lacy apron to make sure your uniform doesn’t get dirty, a spot of coffee to keep you peppy and setting everything up on a gold trimmed cart. You didn’t think you’d see Seokjin again, especially after how upset he was about his room.

With a little rap on his door, Seokjin invites you inside to set up. Their room overlooks the valley as opposed to the busy roads, so it’s a perfect way to rise with the sun. He immediately reaches for the coffee as you drag your little cart in, completely ignoring the cream and sugar on the side. After a long sip, he moans in pleasure.

“Ah,” he exhales, a sound that has you teeming. You grip the handlebars a little tighter than usual, “Maybe it was fate that we ended up here.”

“Maybe,” you fight the urge to bite your lip, because Seokjin has no idea how cliché of a line that is. He isn’t even speaking directly at you, talking in front of the sun like it’s his morning routine. “Say, have you seen Yeji around?”

“Ah,” you shug, pretending to be oblivious, “I think she went out for a walk.”

He turns to you, giving you a quivering brow, “She hates walking. Probably calling her friends in Korea or something.”

Of course she doesn’t like walking, you think, that’s why she took your car for some overpriced drinks.

Instead, you place the fresh pancakes and sides on the guest table, making sure everything is organized and in order. You place the towels atop the haphazardly made bed, making sure to put two mints on top. It isn’t customary to include mints, but you think the mints your hotel has taste great and deserve to be shared around more often than not.

“So, it looks like you’re ready for Disney,” you remark, taking note of his outfit. He has on blush mid-thigh shorts, stretchy and made from a canvas fabric that looks airy and comfortable. Around his neck is a little portable fan, and on his head is an old Mickey baseball cap.

“Ah, just for today and tomorrow! Sunday is my ‘me’ day,” Seokjin says, dashing across the room at the sight of fresh food, “Yeji is meeting with some cousins and will be spending the rest of the weekend with them.”

“Sounds like a fun weekend,” you remark, turning to leave.

“Will you be working the rest of the weekend?”

This is supposed to be small talk. You try to convince yourself that Seokjin is just being polite, wondering if his service is going to be impacted by you being around or not. There must be nothing sexual, or just mere attraction, going on between the two of you. Well, maybe on your side of things. The pink shorts and the baseball cap are doing things to your body that you barely understand. Unfortunately, the eager apples of his cheeks and the innocent upturn of his lips lets you know that any possibility of returned affections is virtually nonexistent.

“It’s my weekend off,” you fight the twinge of excitement when you see Seokjin pout, “but Park Jimin relieves me, and he’s definitely a much better host than I am. He’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.”

“Does he make better pancakes than you?” Seokjin asks, swirling a bite in a ribbon of maple syrup.

“I’m afraid not,” you smile, “he makes a mean breakfast burrito though.”

He shrugs listlessly, eating slower. He takes his time to make sure every pancake is cut in equal two-centimeter pieces, taking his time as if he’s savoring the last of your home-cooked meal. “Not sure if I’ll be completely satisfied then.”

With a firm smile, you wheel your cart out as fast as you can. You can’t keep up the facade now, not with your trashy mind and your dampening panties ruining your sense of self. Quietly slamming the door behind you, you’re met with Seokjin’s spitting image.

Yeji tilts her head at you, eating you alive with her dead-on stare. She places the keys and your matcha beverage on your cart.

“Did my dad confuse you or something?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“He’s like that,” Yeji shrugs, taking a long sip of her drink, “don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

A good word? With an uneasy smile you wheel away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks.

“Can I have the keys?” Yeji asks the next morning, minutes before your shift ends.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You’re sure Yeji is a wonderful kid and has a good heart, but she’s seriously putting your five-star Yelp review on the line. Cocking one eyebrow you say, “What, need your Starbucks fix?”

“Do you know how to parallel park?”

“Why, need a teacher?”

“It’d be better to have someone nearby to make sure I don’t park into a guard rail.”

“Does Seokjin approve?”

“You obviously know the answer to that,” Yeji replies, “and you and my dad are on a first-name basis, huh?”

Fighting the heat in your cheeks, you busy yourself by locking up the money box and key tin, but not before grabbing the keys to the Palisades. “I’m doing this for you because I have impeccable customer service skills,” you feign haughtiness, leaving your front desk and scanning your ID to clock out.

“Not because you think my dad is hot?” she follows you out the door.

“Do you always talk about your dad like that?”

Yeji is silent as she takes the keys from your grip, and you follow her in the passenger seat. A scent that’s fruity yet musky fills your nostrils, and you hug your arms for comfort. This is painfully awkward, at least in your point of view, but Yeji pays no mind as she connects to her Spotify playlist and turns on the air conditioner.

“I’m not one of those prissy daughters that try their damn hardest to make sure their dad doesn’t date,” Yeji murmurs, adjusting the mirrors, “anyone my dad dates will be better than Hyehwa. He deserves to be happy for all that he’s done for me.”

“Hyehwa?”

“The biological carrier for nine months,” Yeji replies dryly.

Your heart pinches, squeezing against your ribcage as you put two and two together. Hyewha, who you’re assuming is, or was Yeji’s mother, is definitely out of the picture. Yet seeing how confident Yeji is with herself, and how much he loves her father and wants him to be happy, is clear in your eyes.

“You are one cool kid,” is the only thing you can say, hoping you don’t have that silly heartened look in your gaze.

It seems that you do, because all she does is roll her eyes and put the car in drive.

It’s nearly one in the morning when you get the call.

You’re off the clock, but it’s graveyard hours and you and Jimin are craving pizza. So while Jimin tends to the last minute guests, you pick up a cheesy pie and hide behind the desk while Jimin does his job.

You’ve polished off half the pie when the main phone rings, and Jimin sighs heavily. Late night and early morning calls are the absolute worst.

“Get the hospital on speed dial,” Jimin jokes, but not really because the last time someone called at one, you really did wish you had an ambulance on-site.

“Prince S hotel,” Jimin spins the cord between his fingers, looking like a dreamy teen heartthrob as he leans against the counter. He immediately swings the phone over to your greasy fingers, “it’s a personal call.”

Wiping your hands on the box, you raise a brow. “Hello?” you ask, wholly confused.

“Mm, it’s Yeji,” the voice slurs on the other line, “I need help.”

“A-are you drunk?” you say, incredulous.

“Yeah, me and my cousin snuck a bottle downtown,” Yeji sounds nervous, and you unconsciously grip the phone tighter, “can you pick us up? I can drop you my location if you give me your number, please. My dad trusted me with the Palisade this weekend, I can’t let him know what happened. I know I’m always trying to get under my dad’s skin and whatever but I don’t want him to lose my trust, what we did is a dumb mistake.”

A part of you feels for Yeji, you’ve done dumb shit like this when you were young. All those fond memories are nothing but memories, and definitely not reflective of your current life now.

The rational, intelligent part of you knows that you should probably call Seokjin right now and tell him what’s going on. You don’t really want to get involved in their family matters, especially when as of late you’ve been inserting yourself in Yeji’s antics.

With a sigh, you pull up your Lyft app, already knowing whose side you’re on.

It takes no more than fifteen minutes for you to arrive at the scene, Yeji and what you assume is her older cousin sitting on the curb of a dilapidated Krispy Kreme, sadly polishing off a whole box of glazed donuts, Well, her cousin is polishing off the box, Yeji is taking nibbles at her proffered donut.

You sigh, pulling Yeji up. You see tear-streaks, her previously perfect cat-eye smudged off and running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, sounding not as inhiberated as she did before, “I bothered you.”

“Not at all,” you soothe, running a hand down her braids. You try not to melt when Yeji nearly leans into your warmth, but backs up at the last second, “I’m happy that you called. Would rather know that you’re safe now than later, yeah? I’m not mad at you,” you assure, pulling a crumpled brown napkin from the pizzeria to dab at her ruddied cheeks.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” you turn your head dangerously slowly towards the cute muscle pig who’s still sitting on the curb, “Ya deserve a five-star Yelp review for this service—”

“But I’m mad at you,” you pointedly ignore his drunken charm. He looks old enough to drink, which only further annoys you because he should be the one taking care of Yeji, “get in the damn car, Youngkook.”

“It’s Jungkook—”

“Get in.”

He swallows his tongue, and you notice Yeji stifling a giggle at your attitude. She wordlessly hands you the keys, clamoring in the front seat while Jungkook takes the whole back row. Yeji tiredly informs you the address to her cousin’s hotel, and you drive off into the night.

“Did I ruin my dad’s chances with you?” you think that Yeji has no clue what she’s saying, but there’s a little sliver of heart in her tone. Her face is pressed against the window, the cold glass on the verge of keeping her awake as she stumbles in and out of consciousness.

“You could never do that,” you mumble, and you smile when her eyes willingly flutter shut.

“Hey, babe,” you practically hear desperation in Jimin’s voice.

“Jimin, no,” you already know that his request is sitting prettily on the tip of his tongue, “it’s my weekend off. I’m not getting out.”

“But someone requested your pancakes,” he whines, and you can practically feel his pout on the other line, “and he said and I quote ‘I’ll be able to tell that you made them.’ I feel threatened!”

“Did they offer to pay in diamonds?”

“N-no. But he said it’s his daughter’s special weekend and he’d be really thankful if you’d come by and make your breakfast for him.”

Daughter? Yeji. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. You have your own room separate from the hotel, a deal that has you living rent free in exchange for your hard labor five days a week. “Heat up the stove for me and crisp the bacon,” you mutter, hanging up and throwing the phone under the covers.

Tugging your hair back and throwing on a large hoodie, you put on your slippers and pad down the little sidewalk that leads to the hotel. The sun beats down on you immediately, willing you to go back to your air-conditioned room to fall back asleep. Swimming through the soup that is the Californian air, you shuffle inside Prince S and make a beeline for the kitchens. You brush through busy employees, flashing a quick smile and “good morning” as you get to your station.

Jimin is already there, sitting at your workspace. All your ingredients are sitting out: flour, eggs, butter, vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, buttermilk, and fresh berries. However, Jimin makes no moves to attempt cooking, instead looking at you with pursed lips and waiting for you to get a move on.

“Get your butt off my counter,” you slap his thigh disapprovingly, pulling your sleeves up to start mixing the ingredients, “you’re dirty.”

“I embrace being dirty,” Jimin replies majestically, kicking his legs back and forth. His Doc Marten creepers wave in your vision, “thank you for swinging by. He said that it was really really important that you come in and make them. Daughter’s request.”

“They’re lucky they’re a cute family,” you mutter under your breath, although the words aren’t laced with malice.

The batter is fluffy and puffy, rising with the scent of melted butter and caramelized sugar. You take careful fingers towards the berries, creating a smiley face in the uncooked pancakes.

“Is your maternal side kicking in?” Jimin says in your ear, and you swing at him with your spatula.

“Leave me alone, art is being made.”

“Sure,” Jimin hops off the table, patting your shoulder, “I got a date with room 69,” you roll your eyes, there is no such thing as room 69. “So please continue to be awesome and finish off this favor by delivering it to Mr. Kim’s room.”

“Jimin, no!” you don’t care that half the staff is staring at you amusedly, the other half uncaring because they’re so used to the two co-managers. “I’m not wearing—I’m not wearing pants.”

You gesture to the obscene amount of bare legs out in the open. California’s hot as hell, you try to wear as little layers as possible. However, in the workplace you like to keep a modicum of decency. Even though Kim Seokjin is fine fine fine, you have decorum.

But Jimin’s already off to visit the guest in room 69 and you’re stuck with a pile of fresh hotcakes and none of the workers want to get involved in your shenanigans. Typical. Begrudgingly, you force your Hallmark-esque smile and arrange the gold trimmed cart, taking care to put extra berries in the fruit dish.

It’s a simple transaction. Get in, drop off the food, accept the tip if Seokjin feels generous, and get out. The door to room 921 looks larger than life, intimidating like the gates to heaven. You knock firmly, but gingerly. “Room service?” the voice that escapes your lips is your sugary professional voice, one that makes you wince immediately.

A muffled “coming!” has you bristling at the door. You curse yourself, looking at your bunny-clad feet and your legs disappearing under your hoodie.

As soon as Seokjin pops his head open you blurt, “I swear, I’m wearing shorts underneath this.”

“Uh,” and that forces him to look at your legs. Dammit, it was a good intention but the wrong way to go. “Good to know,” he coughs, opening his door wider.

The room is much messier on Seokjin’s side of the room, now filled with Eeyore and Baymax memorabilia. A large, white Baymax plush sits innocently at one side of his untouched bed. You crack a smile at that.

“Where’s Yeji?” you ask lightly, putting both stacks of pancakes down on the available table. You absently wipe the crumbs off, leading the little pile of food-crust to the garbage can.

“Yeji?” Seokjin asks, “why would Yeji be here?”

The way you put the cutlery down instantly slows, “You called Jimin this morning saying you needed pancakes specifically made by me to give to Yeji.”

“Who?”

“Jimin?” you raise a brow, losing your high-pitched commercial tone. “Tiny, annoying blond guy?”

Seokjin stares.

You stare back.

“Yeji’s at her cousin’s townhouse,” Seokjin states plainly.

“No, you called and said Yeji wanted pancakes—” No.

Yeji, or Jimin, or both called you and set it up.

“Oh, Jimin’s an idiot,” you tap your head lightly, wanting to bop out any potential embarrassing memory that has burned in your brain, “must’ve misheard. Or is hearing ghosts! Honestly he isn’t the right mind I’m so sorry I reallygottaneedto—”

You can’t even breathe let alone exhale the rest of your sentence, so you instead do the only thing you can do—run away. You don’t bother to exude grace as you plop any trash on the cart from yesterday’s room service, whipping the cart around so fast that the side wheels fly off and pop a wheelie.

“We don’t have to let the food go to waste,” Seokjin says pointedly, probably watching you like he’s watching a comic show as you try to bolt out of the room.

The door is closed, and the little hallway is too small for you to put your body and the cart between the walls. You’ve trapped yourself. Maybe you could just leave the cart and dip? You’re sure there’s at least two extras downstairs.

“It won’t,” you reply dumbly, “I can eat it in the breakroom or something, I haven’t made breakfast for myself yet. I mean, I was kinda craving an avo-toast this morning, but pancakes are always a classic.”

Seokjin snorts at your incessant rambling, carding a hand through his chocolate locks, “I’m trying to ask you to stay for breakfast.”

“You’re trying to—oh,” you mirror his expression, running a hand over your hair so it pulls out of its already messy style. You haven’t done much physical activity this morning, but you feel absolutely breathless as you’re glued to the cheap carpet, taking in Seokjin’s wide glassy eyes

“And if you stay for dessert, I’d like to thank you properly,”

“I didn’t bake dessert,” you hide the shudder in your throat when he steps closer, pinning you against the cart. Your knuckles must be transparent by now due to how hard you’re gripping the cart.

“You didn’t,” Seokjin agrees, “but you definitely brought it.”

You yelp, actually, a whole little dolphin-squeal escapes your lips as Seokjin puts his hand against the wall. You’re actually living a Disney-esque scenario that you do not want to be in. Seokjin’s either trying to give you the Eugene-Signature-Smoulder, or the Prince Naveen charm that isn’t very charming.

“You’re a cheeseball,” you try to snap back, but it only comes out as a small reply, fitting of your cramped situation.

His buttery brown eyes are clear and warm, and his sweet scent envelopes your form. You feel impossibly small, sinking deeper and deeper into your hoodie until you feel the heat of his voice sinking deep into your skin.

It’s then that he leans in and whispers in your ear, his voice a simple request, “Please tell me that you’re interested in me too.”

Something clutches softly in your heart, tethering you to Seokjin’s gaze. You wonder how many times Seokjin goes through this scenario. You wonder if he’s happy being a bachelor. You figure that many partners must have doubts being tethered by a teenage daughter, or if Seokjin is used to fleeting hook-ups.

“Have been since check-in,” you reply smoothly, finding your breath and looking up from your eyelashes.

Seokjin’s lips find yours, and you swear you’re lip-locking with Cloud Nine. They’re soft and supple and taste a little like maple syrup as they mingle with yours, and you can’t help but weave your hands through his equally silky strands, tugging him closer as he hooks his arms under your bare thighs.

He gives your bottom an experimental squeeze, leading you to the unmade bed.

Needless to say, breakfast has to wait.

“So, I’m going to throw a cliché.”

“Sure, we’re in Disney.”

“Why me?” you slap his bare chest when Seokjin laughs, pouting, “I mean it! All I did was look cute and give you pancakes!”

“So you admit you’re cute,” Seokjin smirks.

“C’mon don’t change the subject, tell me!”

Even though this hotel is partially yours, you’re still amazed at the softness of the Egyptian cotton as it engulfs both your bodies. Maybe it’s because you’re warm and bathing in the noon afterglow, maybe it’s your bed partner. Still, it feels divine as you lounge in bed, sipping champagne (left by the door, courtesy of Jimin.)

“Mm, caught you driving around with Yeji in my car.”

You sit up straighter, clutching the sheets to your chest, “You saw us last night?”

“You were also out last night?” Seokjin tilts his head, “I meant when you taught her how to parallel park.”

“Oh fuck—I mean,” you slap your forehead, knowing you can’t get away with this one, “Let’s just say I helped her out of a sticky situation. Don’t blame Yeji, blame Yeji’s bunny-headed cousin.”

“Noted,” Seokjin throws an arm around you, snuggling closer. You relax into his hold, melting between the sheets and his soft skin, “Knowing you’re pulling through for her. Let’s just say I’m a little soft for my daughter, no matter how old.”

“She’s wonderful,” you say genuinely, taking slow sips of your bubbly drink.

“Wanna go visit her for lunch? I’m supposed to be meeting her in an hour.”

You don’t feel deterred or nervous to see Yeji, or even the possibility of meeting Seokjin’s extended family. So you agree, run back to your room quickly to throw on a reasonable summer outfit that doesn’t consist of hooded sweatshirts and booty shorts.

Seokjin offers to drive your sedan, and since you feel a little princess-ish today you decide to let him take the wheel. After a few minutes attempting to drive in the direction of the townhouse however, you lower the volume on the radio.

“Jin? I think you’re going the wrong way,” not only do you live here, but you went to the townhouse last night and you’re sure it’s in the opposite fork, “do you want me to plug it in the G.P.S?”

“I know my way, hon,” Seokjin waves you off, confidently streaming through the oncoming traffic. You smile nervously, you have a feeling this situation has happened once or twice.

“Oh, is that why you ended up in my hotel?” you tease, “because you’re so good at directions?”

“Duh,” Seokjin reaches for your hand atop the console, “after all, my intuition led me to you.”

#jin x reader #jin crack #seokjin x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #seokjin fluff #seokjin crack #bts smut #bts fic

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

tolerate it

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, harassing

a/n: at this point do i know how many parts this is gonna have? no i’m expecting there to be at least two more, who knows tbh. this part was originally supposed to be champagne problems but i decided to change it to tolerate it and champagne problems will MOST LIKELY be the next one followed by tis the damn season. “tolerate it” the song is from bucky’s point of view and not y/n.

INIVISIBLE STRINGS - CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow ...

- We need to talk. - her father stood in front of the door, his police hat hanging from his head. - The chief wants to put someone else on the field.

- Why? - her stomach dropped and she felt sick. Why did she felt sick? Someone else on the field would make her job easier, safer. But her job wasn’t dangerous or it hadn’t been dangerous so far. Bucky hadn’t been rude, harmful or anything of the sort. He’d protect her even and cared for her his own way. Last thing she needed was one of her father’s colleagues following her around as if she were a child. She had gotten the name of his enemy ... although she had little to no will of revelling it.

- Catherine’s son. You remember him. He’s fresh out of the police academy and you two used to be great friends when you were kids. Already got some info on the mob upstate and he could help speed things up.

- Edward was an asshole and the reason why he got info on the mob upstate was because he stole it from his partner. - she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t the best undercover agent in the world, maybe because she wasn’t an agent at all but it had been their choice to put her alone on the field. A second person would only mean that any slip from them would lead to her getting offed. At least if she was alone, she could blame herself for any harm that came her way. - Shouldn’t I have been consulted when you made that decision?

- You’re not part of the force, Y/N. Besides, the sooner this is over, the sooner you can return to your life. What are you wearing anyway?

- I ...

- Y/N, thank god you’re home. - Wanda rushed into the living room, crying. Her senses were immediately heightened and the fact her father held no confidence in her whatsover no longer mattered. Wanda did. - Patrick broke up with me.

- Patrick? - who the hell was Patrick? She remembered Johan and to some extent Ben could be considered an ex-boyfriend but Patrick? Who the heck was he? Before she could question her about it, Wanda was already hugging her side, forehead pressed against her covered.

- Well, I see you’re busy. I’ll speak with you later, Y/N. - her eyes remained on the ground as the sound of his heavy uniform boots registered past her, opening the once closed door and returning it with a closed bang to its latches. The defeating sound of silence haunted both of them as Wanda stepped away, cleaning the tears of her cheeks.

- I was seeing he’d never leave. You’re lucky you have a very good actress for a friend.

- Thank you, Wanda. I’m sorry I’m this late. - she pulled Bucky’s jacket which was still laying atop her shoulders. - So, is Patrick a fake person?

- Don’t change the subject. Whose jacket is that? I called the bar and they said you weren’t there. I was worried, Y/N!

- I was with Mr. Barnes. - she held the jacket against her chest, the scent of his expensive cologne somehow calming her down. Wanda was right to scold her, she wasn’t thinking straight or safe but yet again she didn’t feel in danger when he was near her so why did it matter?

It clearly mattered to Wanda. She knew danger and she knew what they were capable off, being herself a fan of true crime. Last thing she wanted was for Y/N to suffer an accident or suddenly have an overdose or go into alcohol coma. Yet Y/N couldn’t help but stream into the unknown that was so addictive, the warm blanket of safety that he gave her. She was dumb enough to have gotten into the job so she would see it through.

The brunette of course knew why she was so sweet on this safety. She had known Y/N since the two were babies and there was no lie or hiding when she was intrigued by someone. It had happened two times in her whole life - with Chris when she was 5 and with Joshua when she was 18. There was this twinkle in her eye, that walk of pure calmness as if there was no problem in life. This, this definitely was another time that Wanda would even regret seeing or love to talk about during ringing bells’ celebrations.

- You’re a smart girl, please tell me you know the game you’re playing.

- I do. - she walked out without any more words. She knew if they were to come out she would merely wound herself and what was the use in wounding herself and holding the mirror of truth up to her face if not to drown in her own sea of insecurities?

She sat on her own bed, swallowed by the covers and blankets, shoes thrown aside and earrings in her hands. What was she doing? What was she feeling? Was it even a good idea to think about what she was feeling or even put it into thoughts? No, it wasn’t because a deep and dark part of her knew what it was and the one who wanted to do good, the one who always did good, perfect A’s, perfect assignments refuse to look at. It was best to sleep, nothing good would come out of her if she were tired and so she decided to sleep.

Morning came like a bad memory and she was up and at those classroom halls in what seemed like minutes. Things went by slowly and she found herself falling asleep on the top of her hand more than usual and she probably would’ve slept throughout her whole anatomy lesson had it not been for the girls sat on the row above her chatting in a very annoying tone. Usually Y/N would’ve just ignored it and razor focus on the lecturer but today all she wanted was to do was to ignore what he was saying. She found herself eavesdropping on their conversation; apparently there had been some confusion on the city centre deriving to some violence which also in a regular day wouldn’t have caught her attention had it not been for the mention of the mob. Her senses perked up and she started tapping her foot against the hardwood of the ground until the clock finally hit finishing time and she was out of the classroom in a rush.

Y/N held the books tight against her chest as she ran down the street, wind penetrating through the knitting holes of her cardigan as shivering her skin as she continued to run on loose and broken cobblestones not exactly knowing why and where she was running to. Well, she knew where to, she just thought better to tell herself she knew where not to.

The unlit lights of the bar/club came into view and she rushed through the door and straight to the back and to the door she was told never to open. Her hand grasped the handle and pushed it open hoping to not see it empty.

- What the ... - Mr. Barnes turned around on his chair, expecting to yell at whomever of him clumsy workers had walked in without the decency of knocking only to see his own clumsy bartender. - Looking for tutoring, petal?

- What? - she questioned before looking at the books she was holding. - Oh, no I was just ... I heard, I saw ...

- Good that means your ears and eyes work properly.

- I heard there was a commotion in the centre and that the mob was involved and I ...

- You thought to check on me? - he gave her a toothy grin, hands placed on his desk as he rose from his chair. - I’m flattered, petal.

- No, I ... I ... - she looked down at her shoes, feeling his presence as he approached her. - I thought my shift would’ve been cancelled if you or anyone else had been harmed.

- No. - he hooked a finger under her chin, gently pushing it upwards. - I’m afraid you’ll still have to work.

- Ahh ... good. - she felt her mouth dry up as she stared at him. No, you can’t do this anymore, Y/N. You’ve been compromised, go away, give up, quit, say you don’t want to work here anymore. - I have to tell you something.

No, shit. Don’t blow your own cover, what are you doing? Her inner voice yelled at her.

- I’m all ears.

- I ... - she was parched, world spinning around yet for some unholy reason she was gonna come clean and maybe eventually end tied to bricks at the end of the river. Why was she coming clean? What are you doing, Y/N? - I’m ...

- Mr. Barnes? - a third voice shattered everything, making both the mob boss and the bartender look to the owner of said third voice. Edward. - Oh, hey Y/N, I didn’t know you worked here.

- You know each other? - James’ hands were immediately on his pockets as he took a step in front of the bartender. Had she not known any better, she would’ve assumed it was a protective stance.

- We used to date each other back in prep school.

The answer knocked the two of them back. Y/N mostly because she would never in a million years dated someone like Edward as one he was the son of one of her father’s ex-girlfriend and two she barely could stand him. James, on the other hand, seemingly couldn’t see his bartender, his very clumsy bartender who enjoyed to pretend to be Betty Draper on auctions, dating the newest bar’s cleaning boy, one whom he particularly disliked.

- I see. Well, you ought to know I don’t accept work relationships. If that’s all, I was having a conversation with Y/N.

- No, it’s fine Mr. Barnes. I need to speak with Edward myself. - she punctuated the last word as if it spewed poison. Bucky looked at her, hands in fists as she walked out with the cleaning boy by the hand as if she herself hand a place in the mob herself.

She wanted to throw him to the floor once they were out of sight and had it not been for the fact he was taller and physically stronger than her so instead she shoved him against one of the walls.

- What the hell, Edward? Your ex-girlfriend?! - she whispered-shouted at him.

- It’s a reason for us to be close so instantly. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.

- Stay the fuck away from me and don’t you talk to me. - she pointed at him before storming out but not before realising she had left her books, her library borrowed books, on Mr. Barnes’ office.

She turned around out of anger, not really knowing what she was mad about. It wasn’t like she was expecting her father to pay any homage to her wishes of not having Edward around. It didn’t matter really except of course it did but she would never dare to say anything about it. She knocked on the office’s door this time, one which was opened by a very surprised James as if he expected the two ex lovers to be behind his bar reminding themselves of what love feels like.

- Forgot something, petal?

- My books. - she pointed at them laying on top of one of his chairs. - I ... they’re from the library, I need them.

- Of course. - he handed them to her as if it weighed nothing. - Anything else I can do for you, petal?

- Oh yes, sorry I forgot. - she opened her bag rummaging through it to find the box of incredibly expensive earrings she had been nervous about carrying with herself the whole day, afraid of being robbed. The bartender handed him the box, receiving a mere eyebrow raise from him. - It’s an incredible gift, Mr. Barnes but I couldn’t possibly accept it.

- Why not?

- It’s too expensive.

- It’s nothing compared to what I have.

- Well ... I’d have nowhere to wear it.

- You should wear them here.

- I don’t ... I’m not the type of woman who wears things like these.

- Come with me. - he took the box from her, moving away from where he was standing and out of the office. As if she were attached to him by some invisible string, she followed straight away, wondering where they were going. He wouldn’t kill her here, and to be honest she started to wonder if he ever would.

He stopped in front of the bathroom’s, opening the door for her and standing near it. She looked at him in confusion, not entirely knowing what he wanted to do in the bathroom or why he wanted her in the bathroom. Was he going to kill her in the bathroom? She stood on her two feet still for a few seconds before going inside still wary of his intentions, whatever they were.

She could hear the sound of her ballerina slips as she entered the tilled dark decorated bathroom which was cleaner than it did during the night. His hand stood in the small of her back leading it against the black marbled counter connected to the mirrored wall.

- May I? - he opened the box and she nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. She stood there, motionless yet with feelings heightened as he pushed her hair away from her ears to put the earrings on her. They were slightly heavy, a sign of their value and her mind couldn’t wrap around the fact such expensive jewellery was hanging from her ear lobes. - You look exactly like the type of woman who wears things like those, petal.

- You flatter me.

- I think you just don’t flatter yourself enough. - she turned her head to face him. She could feel his breathe against her forehead. All she could sense was that, his breathe, the smell of his cologne and the sound of silence. Looking up to him, he could see her own reflection, the reflection of her earrings glistening on his baby blue eyes. She didn’t know what to say, eyes glued to his as they both got close to each other until each other’s lips were touching, melting in want.

The silence seemed to burst into fireworks of each other’s heartbeats as his hands held her waist close to him. They were too lost on each other, both forgetting for a moment who each was to give way to their own choices.

- Mr. Barnes? - someone knocked on the door, that invisible string pulling them together breaking as they stopped kissing and stepped away from each other.

- I’m busy. - he yelled out.

- Mr. Barnes there’s someone here for you.

- I said I’m busy.

- No, it’s fine. - she rushed her fingers through her hair, one hand against the counter holding her up. What had she done? - You should go.

- Petal.

- It’s fine. - both hands now held the counter, eyes shut. - You should go.

I sit and watch you ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell @sebbystanlover-vk @jevans2 @hollarious @itsallyscorner @tcc-gizmachine @saiyanprincessswanie

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babypandawrites · 3 years

Text

Allies, Pt. 11

The Siege of the North, Part One

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: General War Things, Injury, Getting Knocked in the Head Word Count: 2,625 Summary: With the Fire Nation launching a huge attack on the Northern Water Tribe, and Zuko trying to take the Avatar, things do not go well.

Note: This is honestly one of my... worse chapters- but we can pretend its not :’) I was struggling a lot with some of the parts and ended up having to make them super rushy so sorry about that- Also! I have made a poll relating to the story that I would appreciate you guys answer! I’ll be tagging post relating to the series with #book one allies ! And on an absolutely unrelated note, support the ATLA Fan Musical Project! The team working on it is super talented and all the songs they’ve put out so far are amazing! Katherine Lynn-Rose is one of the leading team members and has some of the songs up on her YouTube channel, along with a link to the ATLM discord server! Which you guys should totally join, it’s super chill and supportive!

-Navigation- | -Atla Masterlist- -Last Part- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Next Part-

Taglist: @boomeraangin | @brokennerdalert

“So, this is where you’ve been spending all your time.” “Huh?!” The sudden voice startled Y/n, causing her to lose her balance from where she stood on a raised stool. Sokka slid behind her and caught her by wrapping his arms around her torso. Though with her feet still resting on the stool, it left her in kind of an awkward position. Chuckling softly, he helped her get on her feet. “Sorry, didn’t think I’d catch you off guard.” “It’s fine, thanks for the catch.” Getting back up on the stool, Y/n grabbed the small rag she had tucked into her waist band, and used it to wipe down the top of a cabinet. “When did you get a job?” Sokka poked around one of the clothing racks as he asked. “Why did you get a job?” “The day after we got here and to make money, obviously. Kind of the point of a job.” “Getting a job when we’re basically honored guests, makes sense.” Walking back over to her, he gently nudged the stool with his foot. “This thing doesn’t seem very stable.” Looking at him with a glare, she smacked him in the shoulder with the rag she held. “It’s not, so maybe don't do that when I’m standing on it!” “Sorry.” Sighing, she went back to wiping down the cabinet, this time going for the top shelves. “And it’s not like I have anything better to do. I can only talk to Momo and Appa for so long until I start to feel like I’m going crazy.” “Nothing better to do? You have friends, three of them, one of them standing right here!” He pointed to himself. “You guys are always busy. Speaking of which, don’t you have an activity to do with Princess Yue?” She tried to ignore the weird knot in her stomach at the thought. Sokka looked at her with a blank expression. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?” Laughing, Y/n hopped down from the stool. “Nope.” “And for the record, I already saw Yue today…” She raised an eyebrow at him, when he trailed off with a saddened tone. “You alright?” “I’m fine. Just- It didn’t go well. I don’t wanna talk about it. How much longer are you gonna have to do your job?” “Few more hours.” Sokka let out a groan, as he turned to walk to the door. “Guess I’m hanging out with Momo today.” “I’m sure he could use the company.” Y/n tossed the rag she had into a bin. “Oh no.” She was about to go into the shop’s backroom, but stopped at hearing Sokka. Turning, she noticed he had frozen in the doorway. Furrowing her eyebrows she joined him at the door, looking over his shoulder. “What is it?” He kneeled down, and scooped up a handful of darkened snow. “Soot.” Eyes widening, she jumped over him to get outside. Ash was falling from the sky rather than snow, and was starting to coat the ground. She held her hand out, gulping as ash started to gather in her palm. “Fire Nation.” “Yeah, and by the looks of it, there’s a lot of them.”

The pair had joined Katara and Aang at the citadel, the group currently sat on the building’s ground with their backs leaned against the wall. “The day we have feared for so long has arrived. The Fire Nation is on our doorstep. It is with great sadness that I call my family here before me, knowing well that some of these faces are about to vanish from our tribe. But they will never vanish from our hearts. Now, as we approach the battle for our existence-” Chief Arnook raised his arms up. “-I call upon the great spirits! Spirit of the Ocean! Spirit of the Moon! Be with us!” He lowered his arms. “I’m going to need volunteers for a dangerous mission.”’ Sokka stood up from the ground. “Count me in.” Katara looked at her brother with an expression of shock and worry. “Sokka!” Y/n shared the expression. “What are you doing?” Several other men stood as well. “Be warned. Many of you will not return. Come forward to receive my mark if you accept the task.” The volunteers began to form a line in front of the Chief, each receiving a marking on their foreheads with a red paint.

A tense silence settled across the air, as the Northern Water Tribe awaited the Fire Nation's first attack. Several warriors lined up along the top of the tribe's wall, Y/n and the rest of her friends stood with them. The wait was nearly suffocating. A singular Fire Nation ship could be seen in the distance, but there were bound to be more out of sight. Gulping, Y/n’s hands clenched into fist. This was going to be a full scaled attack on a very powerful tribe, it would really be like nothing she’s had to face before. And honestly? It was kind of horrifying. After a brief moment of waiting, the ship catapulted a huge fireball at the tribe's wall, crashing right through the middle of it. Several people were thrown back from the impact, along with the ice and debris from the wall. Y/n pushed herself from the ground, dusting the snow off her clothes, just in time to see more fire balls come over the city walls.

Thus started the relentless attack on the Northern Water Tribe.

As nightfall came upon them, the Fire Nation’s attacks stopped. Neither side had yet to win, and Y/n was sure that the attacks would continue at sunrise when firebending would have more power. “They’ve stopped firing.” Yue said, as Y/n joined her and Katara on the citadel steps. “For now.” She added. When Appa flew in from the distance, Katara pointed at him. “Aang!” The three ran down the citadel steps, to meet him at the plaza. Appa landed on his belly, clearly tired. Aang slid down from the bison’s saddle, sitting on the ground. “I can’t do it.” Aang dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t do it.” “What happened?” Katara asked. “I must have taken out a dozen Fire Nation ships, but there’s just too many of them. I can’t fight them all.” “But, you have to! You’re the Avatar!” Y/n shot a glare at the Princess for that comment. “I’m just one kid.” Aang buried his head into his arms, as Katara sat down next to him to comfort him. Kneeling to his side, Y/n reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. Eventually, the four gathered into one of the citadel’s rooms, moon light shone through the window. “The legends say the moon was the first waterbender. Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves.” Yue explained, as she looked out at the moon. Katara nodded along with her words. “I’ve always noticed my waterbending is stronger at night.” “Our strength comes from the Spirit of the Moon, our life comes from the Spirit of the Ocean. They work together to keep balance.” Aang perked up. “The Spirits! Maybe I can find them and get their help!” “How can you do that?” “The Avatar is the bridge between our world and the Spirit World. Aang can talk to them!” Katara explained, answering Yue’s question. Yue smiled hopefully. “Maybe they’ll give you the wisdom to win the battle!” “Or, maybe they’ll unleash a crazy amazing spirit attack on the Fire Nation!” Aang widely opened his arms as he spoke. Though the look Katara and Yue gave him caused the boy to clasp his hands behind his back. “Or wisdom. That’s good too.” Y/n leaned closer to Aang, putting a hand next to the side of her mouth to whisper secretly. “I thought it was a good idea- You should ask the spirits about a crazy amazing attack on the Fire Nation.” Aang grinned at her, whispering back. “I will.” “The only problem is, last time you got to the Spirit World by accident. How are you going to get there this time?” “I have an idea, follow me.” The three followed after Yue, as she led them to a courtyard behind the citadel, then to a wooden door. “So is this the way to the Spirit World?” Yue let out a quiet laugh at Aang’s question. “No, you’ll have to get there on your own-” She pushed the door open. “-But I can take you to the most spiritual place in the entire North Pole.” Entering through the door, the group found themselves in an oasis of sorts. Unlike the rest of the North Pole, it wasn’t cold and covered in snow- It was rather warm actually, and there was a landing covered in grass. At the back of the chamber was a waterfall, which flowed into a long pool of water. Two wooden foot bridges led to the grassy landing.

Aang ran across one of the bridges, laughing. He landed on the grass, rubbing it fondly. “I never thought I’d miss grass this much!” Joining him on the landing, Y/n breathed out a laugh, slipping her coat off. “Ah- This is the kind of warmth I’ve missed.” It didn’t seem possible somewhere so warm was in the North Pole but- she wasn’t going to complain. This was great! Shortly after them, Katara and Yue walked onto the landing as well, Katara smiling as she also took off her coat. “It’s so warm here! How is that possible?” “It’s the center of all spiritual energy in our land.” Momo skittered up to the pond, trying to grab the two fish that swam in it. One was black, the other white, they swam in a circle around each other. The three girls watched the lemur, before he ran away from the pond. “You’re right, Yue. I can feel...something...it’s so… tranquil.” Aang sat down in front of the pond, his legs crossed. Closing his eyes, he closed his hands into fist and put his knuckles together to meditate. Y/n moved to stand with Katara and Yue, as the Princess whispered. “Why is he sitting like that?” “I think he’s meditating.” She whispered back. “Yeah- he’s trying to cross over into the Spirit World. It takes all his concentration.” Katara added, also whispering. “Is there any way we can help?” “How ‘bout some quiet?!” Aang turned to look at them. “C’mon guys! I can hear every word you’re saying!” Cringing inwardly, Y/n mumbled a quiet sorry as the boy went back to trying to meditate. After a few moments, Aang’s eyes and tattoo’s started to glow white. Both Yue and Y/n looked at him in wonder. “Is he okay?” The Princess asked. “He’s crossing into the Spirit World. He’ll be fine as long as we don’t move his body. That’s his way back to the physical world.” Y/n nodded in understanding at Katara’s words. “Neat..” Yue started to walk away. “Maybe we should get some help?” “No, he’s our friend. Y/n and I are perfectly capable of protecting him.” “Yeah, we got this.” “Well, aren’t you big girls now?” Zuko’s voice suddenly echoed softly through the area. Gasping, Y/n turned to the source of his voice, along with Katara. “No!” Zuko walked over one of the bridges towards them. “Yes! Hand him over, and I won’t have to hurt you.” Katara and Y/n both took on fighting stances, as Yue ran away from the trio to not get caught in the crossfire. Zuko launched forward, sending several blasts of fire their way. Katara pulled water from the pond and used it to block the attacks, eventually shoving him backwards and knocking him to the ground. Y/n didn’t drop her guard and was ready to jump in if she needed to, but she decided to hold back for now since Katara was handling things pretty well. Honestly, much better than she would be able too. “I see you’ve learned a new trick. But I didn’t come this far to lose to you.” Getting up, Zuko fired another blast at them, which Katara easily blocked. She sent a stream of water at him, knocking him backwards again, before freezing the water beneath him. Katara raised a sphere of water from the pond behind Zuko, and encased him in it before freezing him entirely. “You little peasant. You’ve found a master, haven’t you?” Zuko’s words were muffled by the ice. Right after he stopped talking, the ground started to shake as the ice started to glow yellow and orange. With an explosion of fire, the ice shattered, freeing Zuko who immediately ran at Katara. Watching the two fight with a close eye, Y/n moved to stand closer to Aang- Just incase Zuko pulled something sneaking and tried to grab him. Which he did try to do. Slipping behind Katara he tried to grab Aang by the collar, but before he could Y/n grabbed his arm and twisted it before she raised a leg up to kick him back. Before he could recover, Katara blasted him with a jet stream of water, knocking him much further away from the three. She bent a huge wave of water that pushed Zuko at least ten feet up one of the walls, before freezing him in place.

When Zuko’s head drooped in defeat, Y/n and Katara shared a satisfied look of victory. At least until, the sun started to rise. Y/n expression fell, realizing what that meant for them. Zuko’s head snapped up with a look of determination as the sunlight reached him. He breathed steam, enough to melt the ice that was holding him in place. Sliding down the rest of the ice, he charged at Katara and fired a blast at her. Caught off guard, she was only able to block it partially, and got thrown back into the gate’s post- causing her to be knocked out. Y/n rushed to Aang, standing between him and Zuko, taking on a fighting stance. Zuko breathed out a chuckle as he approached her. “Do you really think you can beat me?” “I’ve done it before.” “I’ve learned a lot since then. More than you ever will.” He shot a large blast of fire at her. Pressing her palms together, she thrusted her arms forward and dispersed the flames to go around her and Aang. Zuko ran at her as she did, grabbing her by the shoulder and shoving her aside. Y/n tumbled to the ground, but made a quick recovery and rushed forward as Zuko grabbed onto Aang’s collar. She threw a punch at his face, which he ducked under, elbowing her in the gut before shoving her backwards again. Leaving Aang for a moment, Zuko stood in front of her, as she started to get up. Her gaze snapped over to Aang for a moment, he was just left to lay on the ground. Instead of trying to attack Zuko, she attempted to jump towards Aang. Before she could get too far, Zuko gripped onto her hair and yanked her back. Gritting her teeth, Y/n reached back to grab his arm, heating her palms to burn him. “I’m not letting you take him!” “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” Zuko spoke through gritted teeth, yanking her head back again, before shoving it down to collide with his knee. Her grip on his arm loosened, as her vision started to dot black. Arma falling limply to her side, she collapsed to the ground, when Zuko let go of her hair. “Your decisions have made you weaker, but mine, they’ve made me stronger.” On the verge of unconsciousness, Y/n watched as the Prince grabbed Aang and threw him over his shoulder. “No…”

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar the last airbender x reader #atla x reader #reader insert #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #team avatar #slowburn #book one allies

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cheri-cheri · 3 years

Text

[L&N] Jesse’s Main Storyline - Reunion

🍒 Warning: Contains detailed spoilers from Chapter 8 of the main storyline of Light and Night 🍒

Previous section: here

He’s Jesse? But the youth who was with me that day-

Staring blankly at the clean and clear face, my heart thumps heavily. That’s right. Those eyes are stubborn and bright.

Jesse: There’s something unique about MC’s designs. She likes drawing four-sided stars. You could compare it with her earlier drafts. It’d be clear at a glance who copied whom.

But this is a little secret between me and my grandmother. No one else would-

I’m in a daze. I’m basically a dummy.

One other person knows about it. Someone who was almost forgotten with time.

I stare at him in disbelief, and have the illusion that this is a game of hide-and-seek which has been going on for seven years.

This instance is akin to a movie scene. The years accelerate in reverse, each frame filled with memories engraved on my heart.

Him at 13 years old: What kind of adults do you think we’d become next time? I really want to travel to the future and have a look.

Him at 11 years old: Since you gave me Chinese tuition, I’ll reluctantly go to the same junior high school as you and teach you math.

Him at 8 years old: Next time, I’m going to be an outstanding person. Outstanding people will have lots of money, and I can afford to buy everything you want to eat!

MC at 7 years old: Hey, why are you squatting on the floor with mud on your face?

Him at 5 years old: [crying] T-they threw mud at me. They said I’m a fatty, and that fatties are most useless...

MC at 7 years old: Don’t be afraid! I’ll wipe it off for you. Next time, just follow me. I’ll protect you! Don’t cry. Real men don’t cry.

Him at 5 years old: Sob sob sob... okay...

MC at 7 years old: What’s your name?

Him at 5 years old: My name is Xia Ming Xing. Xia for 夏天 (“xiao tian” - summer), Ming for 一鸣惊人 (“yi ming jing ren” - amazing the world), and Xing for 星星 (“xing xing” - star)-

MC at 7 years old: What a difficult name. Can I just call you Xing Xing?

Him at 5 years old: That sounds like the relative of monkeys.

[Note] In Chinese, 猩猩 (“xing xing”) is “gorilla”

MC at 7 years old: How about Ming Ming?

Him at 5 years old: The uncle next door is called Ming Ming.

MC at 7 years old: Hm, I’ll call you “Dumpling” then. You look like a dumpling.

Him at 5 years old: Sure, dumplings are so delicious.

MC at 7 years old: Let’s make a pinky promise to always be friends.

Time moves in reverse, and once again returns to the present. I feel as though a gust of wind that was stalled in the past is now coursing between us, blowing away the many years apart.

MC: Dump-

I smile, unable to help myself as I call his name. The moment I say one syllable, he clasps a hand over my mouth.

The composed youth from earlier is now flushed, giving me a pitiful look.

At this moment, Wu You’s face is ghastly pale.

MC: I’m uninterested and have no time to play such games with you. This is a competition, and it has its rules. I can afford to lose and can afford to win. I accept a just contest, but I reject dishonest tricks. There are many more designers, including your sister, who are striving to make even better products. That’s the meaning of designing. I’ve already explained what I had to. I trust that everyone can make their own judgements.

Grabbing Dumpling’s hand, I turn around to leave. Now, there’s something even more important waiting for me.

Feeling the warmth in his palm, the youth’s expression turns from astounded to beaming with happiness.

Jesse: Let’s go.

Pulling him to a place where we won’t be disturbed, I suddenly feel a little speechless.

What should I say? Exchange conventional greetings? Would that be too formal?

But we haven’t seen each other in so many years. It might be awkward to talk about other things.

He seems to realise this as well. He looks at me, dumbfounded and at a loss for what to do.

MC: Erm, Xia Ming Xing, it’s been a long time.

Jesse is taken aback for a moment. Then, he bursts out laughing.

Jesse: Who are you? Why are you calling me by my full name? Give that fierce girl back to me!

He reaches out to pinch my cheeks, his appearance as playful as back then.

MC: Stinky Dumpling. You’re the one who’s fierce. I haven’t asked why-

Before I can finish speaking, I’m pulled into a hug. It’s cosy and tastes of sunlight. The second half of my question melts into his arms.

Jesse: Did you know that it’s been a very, very long time since I heard the name “Dumpling”...

He tightens his grip, burying his head in the crook of my neck.

MC: Dumpling...

Jesse: Mm.

MC: Dumpling Dumpling Dumpling!

Jesse: I’m here.

Jesse: Did she bully you earlier? It’s my fault for arriving too late. She made things difficult for you for such a long time.

His voice brings with it a nasally tone. It’s gentle, like a cup of hot milk gradually flowing into my heart.

MC: Why are you only asking me about that?

Jesse: What else should I ask about? What’s more important than you getting bullied?

MC: I’m fine, thank you.

Unexpectedly, he’s given a fright and blinks incessantly.

Jesse: MC, have you gone silly? You actually thanked me?

MC: ?

Jesse: Aren’t you going to throw me a left hook, then ask where the hell I’ve been these years-

I place my hands on my hips, pretending to be angry.

MC: Why would I ask where the hell you’ve been? Didn’t we know each other just two days ago?

Jesse: What do you mean “two days ago”?! We’ve known each other for 15 years and 9 months!

MC: But why do I recall how a certain person refused to talk to me unless he wore a strawberry headgear?

Jesse: I... I was afraid you’d ignore me once you recognised me. I wanted to meet you again in a more formal setting.

MC: In that case, why did you rush into the room furiously?

Jesse: They were bullying you right under my nose. How could I hold myself back!

Jesse: Don’t be angry, okay?

He shifts closer to me. No matter where my eyes look, he meets them immediately.

Faced with such a pair of pure eyes, my temper dissipates. It’s as though everything in the past has been written off in them.

MC: Shouldn’t you give me an apology before I forgive you?

Jesse: Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry-

He continues on and on, as though he'd continue saying this till the sky turns dark if I don’t get him to stop.

MC: That’s enough, I forgive you.

And with that, a bear hug lunges at me.

I’ve genuinely forgotten if his hugs were this warm during childhood.

Now, these pair of arms are filled with a comforting ease.

There are so many things I want to ask him. I want to ask if he’s been living well, and why he didn't give me a single call.

More than that, I want to ask why he left without saying goodbye.

But when I open my mouth, I swallow the words back down.

He mentioned that he couldn’t see me due to certain reasons. In that case, I’ll ask next time. Anyway, we’ve already reunited, and there’s still a very long time ahead.

MC: All right all right, you can let go now.

Jesse: Hang on. We haven’t seen each other for 7 years. Shouldn’t we make up for what was lost? One hug per year will do. That means seven, each lasting 5 seconds. In total, 35 seconds!

He actually calculated it seriously.

??: Cough.

I hear a cough from behind me, and feel Xia Ming Xing’s body stiffen. He lets go of me reluctantly.

MC: Jiang Lai?

Jiang Lai looks at me awkwardly, then drags Gao Cheng from his hiding place behind her back.

Gao Cheng: We didn’t want to disturb you two.

Jiang Lai: We just wanted to tell you that the producer decided to use your designs.

MC: Really? That’s great!

Jiang Lai’s a tsundere so MC has to take the initiative to ask the three of them to form a team

Jiang Lai and Gao Cheng leave

Jesse: They’ve already left, so why are you still looking? The person you should be looking at is here.

Jesse: Can I send you home? Just like in junior high.

MC: I was clearly the one who brought you home, okay? I sent you safely into your mom’s hands. Little Brat.

Out of habit, I reach out to tousle his hair, but realise I can only reach it by standing on tiptoes since he has grown much taller.

Jesse: Don’t call me Little Brat!

MC: Well, I’m two years older than you.

Jesse: But I’m already taller than you!

The youth lowers his eyes to look at me, his smile dazzling.

Jesse: Let’s go home~

MC: Let me test you. Which bus did we use to take? I moved houses due to work, but I still take the same bus.

Jesse: 102.

MC: How are you still able to remember?

Jesse: Of course I remember everything. I remember things related to you even better than yourself. The bus is here, the bus is here!

He places a hand on my back and we hurry onto the bus.

Although it’s a weekend, the bus is filled with students in uniform. We have no choice but to grip the handles while standing.

Jesse: Do you think they’re attending make-up classes? Isn’t today a Sunday?

MC: Many students have classes over the weekends these days. It’s unlike our time, where we had two days to rest.

Jesse: Wow, that’s great. Sigh. If only we were born a few years later.

MC: Let me off! Why didn’t I know that you were so enthusiastic about learning in the past?

Jesse: I’m enthusiastic about learning now. Is that wrong?

Jesse: Hey, look at that pair-

He points to the last row of the bus. A boy and girl are sitting next to each other, one earpiece in each ear. They aren’t interacting at all, and are staring out of the windows.

The boy would occasionally turn his head and glance at the girl, but will avert his gaze before the girl realises.

Jesse: Don’t they resemble us from back then?

MC: In what way? We were so boisterous.

Jesse: Correction. You hit me one-sidedly.

I shoot him a glare.

Jesse: But they’re still far from us. He wasn’t as handsome as I was back then.

MC: ...

Jesse: Look at them. One hand holding their school bag, the other placed on the seat. At a glance, it’s clear that they want to hold hands but don’t dare to.

MC: They look like junior high students. Where’s your mind wandering off to?

Jesse: These eyes of mine have seen through too many things. Sigh, what dummies! Just shift over slowly and grab it.

MC: You sound as if you’d actually do it.

Jesse: Of course I would. It’s just that I didn’t dare. Otherwise, I’d have-

MC: You’d have what?

He glances at me, then shakes his head, lips tightly sealed.

MC: Boasting again.

The bus suddenly jolts. The boy’s phone tumbles onto the ground, rolling in front of us. Xia Ming Xing picks it up and returns it to them.

Glancing at the tune that’s currently being played, I realise that it’s the male singer I liked most back then.

MC: How nostalgic. I was the same back then, only daring to listen to music on the MP3 after school.

Jesse: I was different. I listened to it in broad daylight in the classroom.

MC: Which is why The Exterminator confiscated it five times.

Jesse: But afterwards, I exchanged it with five exam scripts with full marks.

MC: Show off. Back then, I thought about how the days passed by so slowly. I wondered when I could grow up, because I’d finally be able to do the things I wanted to. I didn’t expect for time to speed by. After becoming an adult, each day passes by so quickly, and I don’t even have time to listen to music. In the blink of an eye, the people around me changed.

Jesse: But some things didn’t change, did they? We became the type of adults we are based on what remained.

MC: What remained for you then?

He no longer speaks, looking at me quietly with a silly smile.

MC: I realised that the frequency of your silly smiles are a little high.

Jesse: I’m looking at what remained for me. If we had gone to the same senior high school, what kind of people would we have become?

MC: You probably wouldn’t have gotten slimmer. After all, you came over to my house every day to freeload on meals.

Jesse: Do you think I can’t tell that you’re being sarcastic?

MC: Hahahaha-

How would we have turned out? I have no idea either.

When I travelled across the ocean after my grandmother’s death in my sophomore year, we would have parted anyway.

MC: Fortunately, we’ve met again now.

An earbud is suddenly stuffed into my ear. An acoustic guitar prelude instantly pulls me back to those youthful years.

I originally thought that I had forgotten the lyrics since a long time ago. But I can still hum “small yellow flower” and “playing on a swing”.

It turns out that the things we thought were forgotten are engraved in our minds, waiting to be awakened.

MC: There’s a similar MP3 in my house, but it’s broken and I need to get it fixed by a servicing shop. Oh yes, why are you listening to this song? Weren’t you distasteful of it in the past?

Jesse: It isn’t bad after listening to it again and again, although it’s still a little lacking as compared to me. In the past, you used to say that I was the God of Singing in your eyes.

MC: Hahahahaha, fine fine, God of Singing. I didn’t expect you to really enter this industry and become a musical actor. It’s miraculous.

Jesse: Miraculous?

MC: When we were younger, there was an essay where we had to write about what we wanted to be when we grew up. You wrote about being a singer who sang for the entire world. Afterwards, your mom saw it and forced you to erase it all off, changing it to a scientist.

Hearing me talk about his embarrassing past, he scratches the back of his head abashedly.

MC: Being able to make your dream come true, especially if it’s a dream which isn’t understood or affirmed, is truly incredible.

Jesse: That’s because I have a secret strength supporting me.

Hearing the music, I suddenly think of the outfit I had designed for him. Perhaps I could add a few more elements related to youth.

Taking out my notebook from my bag quickly, my head suddenly feels dizzy, and my nose bumps against his shoulder.

MC: That hurts!

Jesse: [sighs] ...

He turns his body in resignation, bending his back.

Jesse: Draw while leaning on my back, Miss.

MC: Mm!

The sky gets dark very early in autumn. The evening breeze raises a hue from afar, and leaves rustle from the trees.

The hubbub of voices on the bus and affectionate teasing seem to have been dispersed by the breeze, leaving without a trace. What’s left are the both of us walking home in silence from the bus-stop.

Moonlight leaks from the trees along the roadside, outlining the side of Xia Ming Xing’s face. It’s no longer roundish, and has become a little foreign.

MC: Dumpling, why did you suddenly move away back then?

I have no idea why I suddenly asked this. There was simply a strange feeling that he’d disappear again if I didn’t ask about it.

A twinge of guilt flashes past Xia Ming Xing’s face.

Jesse: Do you still remember the call I gave you on the day I left?

MC: Call? What call?

Jesse: You don’t remember? You picked it up, but hung up after I said a few words.

MC: ...when did I hang up?

Why do I have no impression of this at all?!

MC: What’s going on?

Jesse: Back then, my family was moving. I managed to fight for one week with my parents, wanting to stay behind to finish the competition with you. I didn’t have the guts to tell you because I was afraid you’d be upset if you knew. Afterwards, I summoned my courage and gave you a call. But you weren’t willing to listen to me.

MC: That never happened. Why didn’t I know about this at all...

Jesse: So you never hung up?

He grabs my shoulders, his fingers cold as ice. I can almost feel his body trembling.

Jesse: It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear from me?!

He asks once more, his tone seeking confirmation.

For a period of time after he left, I refused to hear the name which was equivalent to “betrayal” in my heart. But no one knew that I was secretly looking forward to him returning one day.

At the very least, it could prove that I wasn’t the party who was abandoned.

But why was this the answer? A mistake? A perhaps irretrievable mistake from such a long time in the past?

With this thought, my chest feels suffocated.

MC: So that’s why you didn’t look for me in all these years?

The youth remains silent, orange strands of hair blowing up with the wind.

Jesse: I had my reasons for not contacting you. It had nothing to do with the call. I... just wasn't brave enough.

I suddenly have no idea how to respond to his calm gaze, and I also understand that neither of us were at fault for the parting back then.

MC: Xia Ming Xing.

Jesse: Hm?

MC: Were you the one who put the MP3 into the tin?

Jesse: Mm.

MC: So you put the card in there too.

Jesse: Mm. But I didn’t participate in the competition with you, and couldn’t stay by your side. I don’t seem to have kept any promises.

I shake my head forcefully, eyes already damp.

Jesse: But now, I won’t shirk from it. As long as it’s something I promise you, I’ll definitely do it.

He takes a step towards me. The years have caused the once delicate youth to change entirely, turning into the man in front of me, whose eyes are especially resolute. With such a gaze, I’ll always choose to believe him, no matter what.

After sending me home, he stands in the corridor as he watches me enter, just like in the past.

Five minutes later, a rustling sound comes at the window.

Jesse: MC, open the window!

Opening the window in confusion, the image before me almost causes tears to leave my eyes.

Pink confetti flutters and blooms in the city sky, dancing gently in the clear summer night, akin to that snow which had yet to appear many years ago.

Amidst the pink coloured snow, the youth reveals a bright and hearty smile as he waves at me.

Jesse: You asked if I regretted it. The answer is - I regret it. I regret it very much, and at every single moment. Summer is already over, but why do I feel as though this summer has just begun?

Jesse: Next week, come and watch my performance. This time, it’d be my turn to wait for you.

MC: Mm, I’ll definitely be there!

Only after the snowflakes finish their descent does Xia Ming Xing reluctantly walk home. If he was slightly braver and slightly stronger back then, would the ending to their story be different?

He doesn’t know. It seems that particular rainy day is still before his eyes. It’s late at night, and a figure flashes past at the end of the dim alley.

Jesse: Who’s there!

The surroundings are completely silent. Xia Ming Xing turns his head and looks at the girl’s illuminated window, then quickly chases after that figure.

A crow flaps its wings and flies past at a low altitude. The moss-covered corner is encased by deathly pale moonlight. Xia Ming Xing stops in his footsteps, black blood soaking his shoes.

However, he doesn’t pay any mind to it. His gaze is locked tightly on that figure whose knees are on the ground, bowing devoutly towards the moon.

Jesse: Who are you?

That person turns around slowly. It’s a girl around ten years of age, and she’s small and petite.

Black hair covers her cheeks. She lifts the white candle in her hand, stuffing it into her mouth and chewing on it. The two golden bracelets on her wrist jingle.

Jesse: Her soul has been taken-

The moonlight grows increasingly bright. An indiscernible black spot suddenly appears on the girl’s chest, and the stench of something burning begins to fill the air.

Seeing that the girl is about to bite the tip of her tongue off, a rope flies from his hand, binding and tying the girl up.

The white candle falls to the ground. Xia Ming Xing lifts up two fingers, twisting a charm towards the girl. With a tearing sound, the charm turns into ashes in the air.

Three days later, it’s the day of the final competition of “Upper Hand”

MC is caught in a traffic jam along the way and decides to alight from the taxi halfway through

Sadly, she arrives just as the curtain falls

I hesitate, not knowing if I should approach him.

However, Xiao Ming Xing is already walking towards me. He has changed out of his performance outfit, and is wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, looking clean and fresh.

Jesse: How was it? I didn’t embarrass you, did I?

I don’t really have the guts to look at him.

MC: I’ll tell you something, but don’t get mad.

Jesse: Every time you said that in the past, nothing good happened.

MC: Really?

Jesse: The first time you said it, you broke my game console.

MC: ...

Jesse: The second time you said it, you cooked me expired cup noodles for supper.

MC: ...

Jesse: The third time-

MC: Enough!

Why do I have such a black record!

Jesse: Go on, I’ve mentally prepared myself.

MC: Actually, I only heard the last five seconds of that song.

Jesse: ...

I can clearly sense that he’s akin to a deflated balloon. His eyebrows, which were arched earlier, droop downwards.

MC: Sorry. I’ll treat you to orange soda and vanilla ice-cream until you’re stuffed, okay!

I lift my hand up, gesturing a vow. Pulling a long face earlier, Xia Ming Xing suddenly bursts into laughter.

Jesse: MC, why can’t I get angry with you?

MC: You’ve forgiven me?

Jesse: I didn’t say that.

MC: But you just said that you can’t get angry with me.

Jesse: If you want me to forgive you, sing a song with me!

MC: ...what?

Before I can react, he grabs my hand and rushes towards the stage.

The youth has a smile which says that he has gotten his way. It’s as if this moment is something he’s been plotting for a very long time.

The moment we step onto the stage, a familiar melody sounds. In an instant, I feel as though I’ve travelled to a lifetime ago.

Jesse: Still remember this song? We named it together - “Portrait of Youth”.

How could I not remember? This was the song we wrote together for the competition back then.

It’s the song that we wanted to clinch the championship with.

It was a song we didn’t get to sing in the end.

In an empty basement, we’d hold our cola cans like microphones, practising till late at night.

We had immaturely mimicked the lyrics we didn’t understand at that age. But many years later, I realise that each line has turned into our story.

It’s as though something in the depths of my body is being awakened. It’s the fervour and anticipation that a youth has for the future, throbbing and pure.

My eyes can’t help but feel warm, and I find myself singing along with him involuntarily.

Portrait of Youth (audio here)

That vanilla ice-cream

Melted in our rainy season

That old piano

“Ding dong ding dong” - is the tapping of the hour hand

Back then, I always loved to tease you

But didn’t allow anyone else to make you cry

You always said that I was a koi

But I was always asking you for tuition before exams

Dragonflies fly past our heads

Our inseparable shadows when we were young walk slowly in our memories

On the bicycle, I’m the only one with sweat like rain

I’m the only one left on the bicycle dripping with sweat

You were long gone from behind me

If the storm didn't block our vision that day

If I knew how to say goodbye that day

The flower petals in the diary

The unwashed roll of film from the camera

They wouldn’t be lonely longings

If the string of the kite didn’t break that day

If I could have been slightly braver that day

The empty pages in the diary

Wouldn’t have been filled with moss

The seven years in which we wandered off can’t be lost.

The lights gather in his eyes, and I'm reflected in them. It has been the case since many years ago.

All the stories seem to have ended with summer, but they begin with summer as well.

Fortunately, summer will always arrive. This unfinished story shall begin on this summer day.

#light and night #and that wraps up Jesse's main storyline~

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Chapter 34

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Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him.

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur.

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again.

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws.

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

“Hey! Time to open the door!”

Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me?

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.”

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place.

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap.

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.”

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.”

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

chapter list / previous / next

#FRU34 #chapter 34

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fleetingpieces · 3 years

Text

My One in a Million Chapter 3

Well, this took longer than anticipated! Somehow I kept rewriting this cause it wasn’t turning out how I wanted it to, but it’s here! And to compensate for the wait, it’s slightly longer than the other chapters :D

Thank you Nayla and @inloveoknutzy for proof reading and your help, I love you guys 😊

And thanks again @lumosinlove for your amazing characters and universe, quite a few of them make an appearance today!

Wether you celebrate christmas or not, I hope you all had a wonderful day ❤️ Enjoy!

CW: Mention of past hospital stay and mild panic attack. Please look after yourself ❤️ (If you want to skip that part stop reading at the end when it says “Remus trailed off, his voice dying down.” and start again when it says “He stood up suddenly.”)

Chapter 3 - Halloween

The slap of Remus' feet against the ground was a steady beat in the morning air. The cool breeze fanning his face felt refreshing, fully waking him up as he and Lily made their way between the trees in the park.

Remus had always been used to jogging alone, but since Lily had started going to his clases she was quickly becoming a very good friend, and spending time with her was something he really enjoyed. They liked going out for coffee and talking a lot, and Remus had already learned quite a bit about her: she wasn't really dating Sirius, but a guy named James, who was Sirius' best friend. She lived just a few blocks from his apartment building, worked in a bookshop not too far from there, and was one of the most kind and cool people Remus had met so far. She reminded him a bit of Leo in that aspect.

She was also incredibly stubborn.

"You are coming to the party tonight, right?"

Remus groaned. He'd hoped Lily would have forgotten about it in the past two weeks, but clearly he'd underestimated Lily Evans' will power when she got something in her mind.

"I told you already Lils, he and I don't get along very well."

Contrary to Lily’s, his relationship with Sirius was only getting worse. They’d run into each other a couple of times, and it was always a very tense affair; Remus ignored him as best he could, and Black had not teased him again but had gone back to being a grumpy jerk. After Lily's insistence, he'd told her why he was against being anywhere near her friend, all the annoying things he did, but he didn't add that he had made a complete fool of himself in front of Black and that there was no way he would willingly show his face into his home.

Lily sighed, "I know, but it's not been a good month for Sirius. I'm sure you guys would get along great if you met under different circumstances."

"Maybe," Remus conceded, although he wasn't so sure about that, "but I have plans with Leo already, and I haven't seen him since he helped me move in."

That was longer than they usually spent apart, but it couldn't be helped. Leo was studying and he lived a bit far away, which made everything more complicated. But he would be arriving in a few hours to stay over for the weekend; they were gonna walk around, grab pizza at Sid's and then they would do a horror movie marathon. And even if Remus enjoyed Lily's company deeply, he'd much rather spend Halloween in the comfort of his own house with his best friend, than in a party full of strangers and with a man that made him feel embarrassed and on edge all at once. Remus wasn't used to having his emotions all over the place like this, not since his last boyfriend. He didn't like being reminded of how he’d felt then.

Raising her hands in surrender, Lily dropped the subject without another word, which surprised but pleased Remus greatly. He didn’t think he could have kept giving her excuses without explaining the whole situation to her.

He should have known better than to think it would be that easy.

That evening, he was coming back home with Leo after stuffing their mouths with the best pizza ever, pineapple of course, still catching up to what he’d missed in the past few weeks.

"How’s your mum, Leo?"

"Oh God, I swear since you left both our mums have gotten worse. They get together all the time, gossiping and baking. It’s like they are our age again. And your mum’s convinced you’re seeing someone," Leo said with a smirk.

"You and I both know that my dog is the only one around here that I’m seeing," Remus rolled his eyes.

They stepped into the entrance hall, saying hi to the concierge at the front desk with a smile. The man smiled back, but he looked tired. More so than usual, and it wasn’t even that late, which struck Remus as weird, but he figured working night shifts must take its toll on someone.

It wasn’t long before they were on the lift going up, but it was only when the doors opened on Remus’ floor that they heard the deep bass notes coming from the end of the corridor.

“What the…” Leo muttered in surprise.

Remus frowned as they walked into the hall, passing by a few people in costumes with drinks in their hands who were chatting excitedly, and a couple making out next to Remus’ door.

“I can’t believe this. What’s the deal with that guy, how did he manage to get the administration on board with this?”

“What the hell is going on?” Leo asked, clearly confused.

“Halloween party,” Remus replied, trying to keep his blood from boiling. He hadn’t thought it would be such a big party, he wasn’t even sure they were allowed to do something like this. He was pretty positive the building’s rules were against it. Maybe Black had bribed someone. “He could have at least warned me that it would be this bad,” Remus said grumpily, eyeing the couple by his door like he was ready to shove them aside.

Leo must have noticed this, ‘cause a second later he patted Remus’ back and fetched the spare keys Remus had given him.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Using his smile, and patience that Remus didn’t have right then, Leo got rid of the lovebirds and was about to put the key in when Remus glanced around and saw Lily leaning against the wall at the end. She looked amazing in her Rosie the Riveter costume that exposed her lean arms and legs, and was talking with one of the guys that Remus had seen wandering around the building. She was making big gestures with her hands when she looked up and locked eyes with Remus.

“Fuck.”

Leo turned around to look at him quizzically just as Lily screamed “Remus!” and started making her way over to them.

The man next to her followed behind. He was wearing a white and gold toga that barely covered his thighs and showed a lot of his broad chest, with golden bands on his forearms and sandals.

Remus heard the sound of keys crashing against the floor, and looked up to see Leo’s slightly wide eyes and open mouth as he stared at the two people getting closer to them. He coughed pointedly and Leo blinked again and bent down to pick up his keys as a flush started creeping up his neck. Oh, how he would tease him for this.

But that was for later, right now he had to deal with a grinning Lily Evans.

For half a second he considered just going inside and avoiding all of this, but he couldn’t do that to Lily, and it was already way too late to pretend he hadn’t seen her.

“Hey, you’re here! How was your dinner?”

Remus wondered if she’d been waiting outside just to catch him, but she seemed genuinely happy to see him, and he couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“It was great, thank you. Leo and I were just gonna go chill for a bit, so…” he threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at his flat, but Lily tilted her head up to focus on Leo and her eyes got a knowing look that couldn’t be good.

“Hi, I’m Lily, and this is Logan,” she smiled coyly as she placed a hand on the man’s shoulder who, Remus noticed, was alternating between staring at Leo and down at the floor; but he smiled warmly when Leo gave him a shy wave.

“Salut! Are you guys joining the party?” he said with eager eyes, and it was then that Remus managed to place Black’s accent, as it was so similar to Logan’s. French. He had to fight not to groan.

“Ah, sorry, but well,” Remus said vaguely, “we don’t really have costumes.” It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but it was the first thing he could think of. Leo snapped his eyes to him, a conflicted scowl settling on his face.

As expected, Lily waved a dismissive hand, “costumes are not mandatory. C’mon, I promise you’ll have fun.”

It felt like all three of them were staring at him with pleading eyes now, and Remus had no idea why. Well, he had an idea in Leo’s case, but still. Remus glanced at his best friend and could read his face as if it had subtitles. Please, Remus, just for a bit? Remus raised an eyebrow in response, and Leo turned on the puppy eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan almost choking on his drink.

“Ugh, fine, I guess we could stop by for a bit.”

Clapping her hands happily, Lily guided them over to the front door and opened it for them. Meanwhile, Remus was taking a deep breath, wondering how the fuck he could keep a straight face and not die from embarrassment.

Inside, there were more people going about, a table full of cups and all sorts of bottles where Lily immediately fixed them with drinks, and some music on the background that a few people were dancing to. Overall, it wasn’t as wild as it seemed from the outside.

The main crowd appeared to be gathered around an entertainment center in the living room, where there was a huge TV surrounded by a big and comfy looking couch, and a few too-huge armchairs. There were people sitting on them, on the floor, and perched on the arm and backrests; and among all of them Remus saw everyone he’d ran into in the previous weeks. Logan went straight to sit next to the redhead, who had a controller in his hands that he was tapping furiously, as he was taking part in a fighting game.

Remus didn’t pay much attention to them though, ‘cause he’d spotted Sirius in the room and stopped short at what he saw.

Sirius' costume was simple but effective. He was wearing jeans that seemed barely able to contain his powerful thighs, a white tank top splashed with blood, dog tags hanging around his neck, a cigar between his pink lips and fake blades sprouting from his knuckles. It went without saying, he made a very enticing Wolverine.

But that was not why Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away —at least not the main reason why. Black was sitting right next to the guy in glasses, who was leaning into him, whispering something in his ear as he played the game, with his eyes still on the tv screen and his fingers flying over the controller. Sirius was laughing freely at whatever the guy was saying, head thrown back and eyes crinkled, which was something Remus had not seen before.

And it took his fucking breath away.

Black was always so serious, barely any expression on his face, but now he was shaking his head, looking at the other guy with such unmasked fondness, that Remus felt a spark of curiosity light inside of him.

But then Sirius looked up, frowned, and the spark died.

He watched as Sirius’ eyes travelled down his body and then slowly all the way up, and Remus swore he saw something in his face before his scowl deepened. Suddenly feeling extremely self conscious of his big comfy jumper and fitted jeans, Remus bunched the sleeves to hide his hands, worrying the hem. He started turning around to go somewhere else, already thinking of ways to escape from the party, but Lily put a hand on both his back and Leo’s and guided them exactly to where Sirius was sitting on one of the armrests.

“What’s this, Lily?” the man said in an accusing tone, setting the cigar down on the table in front of him.

Lily just rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a party pooper. Remus lives next door, I just thought it would be good if you two actually got to know each other like two civilized people. And y’know, introduce him to the gang, so he doesn’t freak out every time they invade your home.”

“Wait, how do you know him?” the guy in glasses suddenly looked up.

“Oh, he’s the teacher in my new yoga class.”

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” he pouted, and Remus figured this must be James. He was proven right when Lily smiled at him, going over and sitting in his lap. The game was suddenly forgotten; James didn’t seem to mind that he was now losing very quickly.

“Pots, focus!” someone yelled, but James only had eyes for Lily as she leaned in and kissed him.

“Are you worried?” she teased.

James scoffed. “Of course not. I trust you with my life Lils, but it’s such a weird coincidence.”

“Wait, no no no! Oh, come on!” There were laughs all around as the redhead next to Logan threw the controller down and turned to mock glare at Lily and James. “Lily, what did I tell you? Don’t distract him when he plays on my team!”

“Stop crying and pay up, O’Hara!” a guy from the other team yelled, before giving a high-five to his partner.

Between all the ruckus and bickering that followed, a tall girl with curly blond hair came to stand next to them with a curious look.

“Who’s this?”

“Oh yeah,” Lily sat up, getting the attention of the whole room. “Everyone, these are Remus and Leo. Remus is Sirius' new neighbor, so be nice to them!”

Remus laughed awkwardly at the motherly introduction and pulled at a loose thread on his sleeve. “Thanks Lily. It’s nice to meet you all.”

"Hello," Leo smiled brightly, earning himself a dopey smile from the boy next to Logan.

The blond girl that had approached them smiled a wicked grin, “you guys just stepped into the lion’s den. I’m Marlene, by the way. These are Talker and Kasey,” she said pointing to the pair that had just won. The guy named Talker smiled broadly, but didn’t wink at Remus like he had the first time they had seen each other. “And the sore loser over there is Finn.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Pots has the attention span of a two year old!”

There were a lot more people sitting around, whose introductions were lost under the chirping war that ensued as the guys put in a new game. Remus’ face lit up when he looked up at the screen.

“Is that the new NHL game?”

Most heads turned his way, and the guy that was changing games even stopped in the middle of the action as if Remus had just announced to the whole room that he wanted to dance around naked.

“Yeah, do you play?”

It was Sirius that had asked, which surprised Remus since it was the first thing he’d said directly to him since he’d entered the room. Black looked surprised, his body completely turned to face Remus as opposed to the sideway glances he’d been throwing his way.

“I’ve been thinking about buying it for a while, but I’ve never tried it before. I loved the previous version though.” At Sirius’ shocked expression, Remus raised an eyebrow, “Is it so weird that I enjoy playing video games?”

“No,” Sirius choked out, and then cleared his throat. “No. It’s just that we don’t usually meet people that seem so eager to play with us rather than getting buzzed out of their minds.”

Remus scoffed, “I very much prefer this type of party to be honest.” His thought was echoed by laughs and nods of agreement all around.

Settling more comfortably on the couch, Sirius removed the fake claws and bent down to grab a controller, turning to offer it to Remus. “Play with me?”

The guys in the room looked at each other in a way that Remus thought was a bit suspicious, which made him narrow his eyes at Black, who rolled his and waved the remote between them. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t bite y’know.”

Remus stared into those silver eyes and was lost for a second. There was a fire burning in his gaze, he seemed more earnest than he’d ever seen him before. In that moment, Remus forgot that this was the guy he was trying to avoid, the one that got his emotions in complete disarray, and he absentmindedly took the control in his hands before sitting down next to Sirius. Leo sat at his other side, slapping him on the back.

“Kick his ass, Loops.”

Finn’s head lifted at the same time that Remus turned to grin at Leo, and Remus had to keep in a chuckle. Boy, Leo was really getting some attention tonight.

Sirius chose to play with Pittsburgh, while Remus chose Dallas, and before Remus could properly think about what he was doing, the game had started.

For the first few minutes, Sirius controlled the pace and took the lead with a smug expression on his face, punching the buttons almost lazily. The corner of Remus’ mouth quirked up. Sirius was good, really good, but he was too conceited, and soon he would regret that.

Indeed, right after that, Remus scored a goal and Sirius’ face dropped. Leo whooped, giving him a high-five while Sirius sat forward and leant on his elbows, his eyes set on the TV. It was a very heated deal after that.

Both of them fought like it was a life or death sort of situation, bumping their shoulders occasionally and chirping each other as if they were actually on the ice.

“Don’t you think Sirius looks an awful lot like Letang?” a shocked James whispered into Lily’s ear, but everyone around heard him.

“Oh wow, that’s terrifying,” Finn was looking from the screen to Sirius’ face with wide eyes.

Remus snorted, and he was surprised to realize he was actually enjoying himself. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t had so much fun with anyone other than Leo in a really long time; it was hard to keep the wide grin from his face as he started catching up to Sirius.

“C’mon Rem, you almost have it,” Leo encouraged when they were tied.

Sirius threw a side glance their way with a frown, just as Remus shot the puck and scored another goal. The game finished not too long after with a scream of “Yes!” from both Remus and Leo, who laughed together and hugged each other, Remus giggling when Leo ruffled his hair.

“Finn...dimples,” Remus heard the whisper from somewhere in the room and looked up to see who’d said it, but was instead met by a disbelieving gaze. Sirius was almost gawking at him, his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open, but his eyes were bright and Remus ducked his head when he felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

Then he glanced around and realized that other people in the room were staring at him in different states of wide eyes.

“What?”

Finn was the one to break the short silence, “Just...bitch ass moves, Remus.”

That prompted an onslaught of questions.

“How did you do that?”

“None of us has ever beaten Sirius in that game before.”

“What do you do again?”

Remus looked at Talker, rubbing the back of his neck, “Um. I’m a PT and a yoga instructor.”

"Well, shit," Talker nodded approvingly. Remus supposed he didn’t really look like a gamer, but he didn’t get what the fuss was all about.

“He’s pretty famous too, a lot of people are waiting in line for his classes,” Leo added with a note of pride in his voice.

“Oh!” Remus turned to look at Kasey, who had his eyes trained on him. “That’s where I know you from! My girlfriend Natalie is obsessed with your videos. She says you’re a great teacher, and not at all bad to look at,” he said with a straight face.

Remus’ cheeks flushed a deeper red in a matter of seconds and he looked down to avoid everyone’s gazes. Especially those grey eyes that seemed to look into his soul.

“Mon dieu, il y a des vidéos?” Sirius muttered, making Leo laugh. Sirius’ head snapped towards him, his eyes widening as Leo replied something in french with a smirk etched on his soft features, something that Remus didn’t understand but it made Sirius choke on his words.

“What’s that?” Remus asked, but Leo only shook his head, still laughing, before his eyes drifted off and found Finn and Logan staring at him. A blush appeared on his cheeks, and Remus could practically hear the other two boys swooning.

There was a deep scowl on Sirius’ face again, who was still very much staring at Remus. Was it because he didn’t like Remus? Or because he didn't like losing? What a sore loser, Remus thought, but he felt squirmish under that gaze. Why is he still staring at me?

But then he saw Black glancing at Leo’s pride bracelet, his expression going harder. Oh God, that would be the cherry on top if he was a homophobic, wouldn’t it? He was about to ask if he had a problem, but someone spoke first.

“I believe the word used was hot,” Natalie’s voice drifted in as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. Remus pulled a face at her.

“Nat, you can’t just go saying those things!”

“What? It’s true,” she shrugged. “I mean, I won’t if it bothers you, but that aside, you’re definitely better than half the people out there.”

James threw his hands in the air impatiently. “I still can’t believe you beat Pa-” he started, but was interrupted by a death glare and he cleared his throat, “Sirius. I can’t believe you won against Sirius.” Then a mischievous smile slowly spread on his face. “I mean, Remus, you could probably beat that Padfoot guy, and he does that for a living.”

Remus snorted, “as if. There’s no way I could ever beat Pads.”

He saw eyebrows being raised, and the scowl completely disappearing from Sirius’ features, to be replaced by a perplexed expression.

“You...you know about him?” he asked, with such awe in his voice that Remus frowned.

“I...yes? I’ve followed his channel since before he got famous,” he shrugged.

“Isn’t that interesting?” James said with a smirk, turning to look at Sirius, who punched him in the arm. James’ smile just widened and Remus’ frown deepened as he continued, "I wonder what you could possibly like about him."

“I personally think that Padfoot is a stuck-up,” Logan said off-handedly, ignoring the daggers Sirius was shooting his way.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s all that, but he’s a bit annoying really,” Finn added, barely keeping in the laughter.

Leo raised his eyebrows, glancing sideways at Remus when he noticed him tensing up, his fists clenching.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” he finally said, causing the laughter to die down. “Padfoot built himself from the ground up, he didn’t have any outside help. And he’s not a stuck-up! Even in the face of all the nonsense criticism he gets, he helps a lot of people in all sorts of situations without even...” Remus trailed off, his voice dying down. He felt like he’d been thrown underwater. He stared off at nothing, his eyes getting slightly unfocused as he tried to think solely of breathing, but he couldn’t avoid being suddenly thrown into a memory.

The cold bed with rumpled sheets. The beeping of his own heart in the hospital machine. His mum’s painting on the nightstand. The smell of antiseptics and dull walls closing in on him. Not being able to get air into his lungs. A retreating back, walking away from him. Being left alone, alone alone al–

He stood up suddenly, finally taking a shaky breath in.

“I should go check on my dog.” Leo glanced his way, and Remus gave him a reassuring smile, “You can stay if you want to. You have the keys.” He gave him a little nod to convey the answer to Leo’s unspoken question. I’m fine, don’t worry.

Remus turned around and exited the room with a dull ‘bye’, completely unaware of Sirius’ utterly soft expression as he watched him go.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #My One in a Million #Sweater Weather #sweater weather lumosinlove #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #sirius x remus

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

Fluffember prompt: Bedtime

@gumnut-logic its ya boi again...

Day 10 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

She regretted picking the extra strong coffee, both for what it did to Alan and the fact that, even though she said she felt fine, she couldn’t seem to make her eyes stay closed.

Alan had indeed drunk the entire jug of chocolate chip frappe masquerading as an innocent milkshake and it wasn’t just colours that were behaving weirdly for him. He seemed to be vibrating with hyperactive energy, bouncing around in a permanent state of alertness that I usually only saw from John or Scott when he’d been chugging those energy drinks to get his late night mission reports finished.

We tried everything to wear him out and settle him down, but it was like having an overly excited puppy with springs for legs trying to get your attention.

“Scott! Scott! SCOTTTT! Look what I can do!” he yelled and proceeded to plant his hands on the floor, flip his legs up into the air and try to run on his hands. He didn’t get far.

Scott’s groan of despair was so deep and heartfelt, I wondered if he might walk out and never return. I hadn’t heard that one since Brandon last came for dinner and told us all about how he'd abseiled for charity wearing a fluffy bear costume, which didn’t sound too bad until you heard that he hadn't been wearing anything underneath it. Apparently the suit was very hot and heavy so he had decided, after trying it on for a few practice descents on an indoor wall, to forgo what he considered unnecessary clothing. That would have been fine if he hadn’t caught the tail on a jagged rock and not noticed. Although, seeing his bare behind on a live stream had doubled the amount of donations that had poured in. Now he was planning to try naked skydiving and was trying to get us to join him. You can guess what the answer was to that.

“Come on, dudes, it’ll be like, totally extreme! Picture it, The Bear and the Boys, think of the publicity, man. You guys are like, thrill junkies, same as me. You’ll love it, the wind in your hair, adoration of millions of fans. It’ll be off the hook!” he’d rambled, getting far too excited for his own good. Scott had had to excuse himself and hide in his office for half an hour while Brandon talked excitedly to Alan about his latest videos. I left them to it too.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, Alan...

“Alan will you stop!” Witchy yelled when he crashed sideways like a felled tree for the fourth time, almost taking out Gordon who was walking past, innocent for once.

“No! I can do this!” Alan protested, trying to right himself but just making it worse. “The world is upside down” he was lying on the floor at this point, “so if I make myself the same then the world will be right side up again! Simple.”

“No, not simple,” Scott groaned, helping pick Gordon up off the floor. “You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” Alan protested. “I’m totally zen.”

I must say, his idea of zen is a lot different to mine.

Scott grabbed Alan’s legs and flipped him over, dragging him to his feet.

“Woah! Are you like a wizard or something? That was totally magical!”

"He's even starting to talk like him," Gordon mused, rubbing his elbow, sore from its collision with the side of my piano.

Witchy groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “It’s gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

She wasn’t wrong.

It turned out that Alan hadn’t just magically appeared in the kitchen when he’d gotten hungry, no, he’d just woken up from a four hour nap and needed a drink. So, not only was he hyped up on enough caffeine to wake the dead (or John after a three day mission stint) but he was also stuffed full of sugar…

***

“Alan, it’s four in the morning, you have to settle down,” she begged, looking so worn out I thought she might keel over. I didn’t blame her, I felt roughly the same. Gordon had gone to bed hours before, as had Grandma, Kayo and Dad. I had stayed up because it was partly my fault that we were in this situation in the first place and Scott was up because he’s Scott and just has to be involved with everything.

“I can’t,” Alan argued. “I’m not tired.”

“We are!” she insisted. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“You sleep if you’re so tired,” he snapped back. He’d been doing that all day, flipping from adorably sweet and compliant to downright murderous in an instant, we were trying not to take it personally. “I’m not tired. I’m gonna call Brandon and chat to him if you guys don’t want me around.”

“No!” Scott jumped in before we could. He knew full well that if Alan spoke to Brandon in this state he’d agree to a million crazy schemes in a matter of seconds. He had to be protected for his own good.

"We do want you around," she argued. "But we also need to lie down before we fall down. So please, if you love me at all, stop trying to sneak off to eat more cookies and vegemite, because one, it's gross, and two…its gross. Where was I going with this?" she asked me, looking so confused I had to turn away so I didn't laugh.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on in here?” John asked, appearing in the doorway having apparently just arrived home. There were rules now, if he had finished his work and she was on the island he had to come home, no matter how late it was. EOS was perfectly capable of handling monitoring duty and most things could be coordinated remotely if it was needed, and if it couldn’t it only took eight minutes for his elevator to take him back. He had no excuse.

“Oh, thank the gods, I’m so tired and my eyes hate me, my eyelids are broken” she groaned, making grabby hands in his general direction which he ignored to stare at Alan.

“Alan drunk coffee,” Scott told him. “Their super strong coffee.”

“What? Why? Who was stupid enough to give him that?”

“No one, he helped himself, thought her frappe was a milkshake,” I told him.

“John! You’re home! This is great! Watch what I can do!”

“No!” Scott, Witchy and I all yelled at once.

“Maybe you should stay where you are,” John suggested, obviously wishing he’d stayed in space even if that did mean he’d get yelled at later.

“I don’t want to sit anymore, I’m bored.”

We all looked at John imploringly, he was the one that Alan would always listen to.

“Hey, Alan, do you wanna watch a movie?” John offered.

"Is that a good idea," Scott started, his expression clearly saying that he thought John was insane to even be thinking of it. We wanted Alan to settle and calm down, not get extra hyped from watching one of his action movies.

Alan stopped bouncing for a second, looking suspicious but also interested. “What movie?”

“Your choice, what was that one you’ve been asking us to watch for months, I can’t remember?” John made his way over to the couch and Witchy shifted over to make room for him, draping her legs over his the moment he sat down.

“The new superhero one?” Alan asked hopefully.

“Sure, we can do that one,” John agreed, sending me a small smirk when Alan dropped back down on the couch, ready to watch. I gave it two minutes before he’d be leaping up again and running off to jump in the pool or something.

For once Scott didn’t dare tell Alan it was too late to start watching anything or that he should be in bed, he was just grateful that Alan had stopped rolling around the floor pretending to be a turtle stuck on its back.

“Oh, yay, I’ve been wanting to see this,” Witchy said, perking up, apparently forgetting all about her rebellious eyes and tiredness, getting what she called her second wind. We all knew that one, when you had been up so long and were so tired that you had actually gone past the point of tiredness, past the point of being able to sleep and were suddenly wide awake again.

John started the movie, lifting his arm to drape it across her shoulders when she snuggled against his side, her arm sliding around his waist. Alan shifted too, dragging his movie blanket over his legs, wedging a cushion against her side so he could lean against it, clearly getting comfortable. Scott and I exchanged a look, maybe there was hope for this plan of John’s after all.

Ten minutes into the movie Alan moved to curl up to her, both of them leaning against John, squashing him into the side of the couch, but at least they were settled.

Another five minutes and she was yawning, her head dropping to rest against John’s shoulder.

“Tired, love?” John asked innocently, smiling softly to himself when she shook her head firmly, but soon, despite her protests, her eyes started that slow blink of a very tired person who is trying desperately to stay awake.

Alan yawned, pulling his blanket up to cover his shoulders and Scott risked a small smile in hope that he would soon be able to get some sleep himself. I didn’t blame him. The ironic part of this day was the fact that we had finished off all the other coffees to ensure we stayed awake longer than Alan.

Her eyes drooped, slowly closing but she snapped awake a moment later.

“I thought you wanted to watch this?” Scott teased her, earning himself a glare.

“I do, I am watching, look, eyes, facing the screen, watching.”

She might have said the words but her actions said otherwise.

“Shall we turn this off and watch it another day?” I asked when Alan’s head dropped forward although he instantly snapped to attention again.

“No, I’m watching it,” he answered stubbornly.

I lifted my hands in surrender and followed John’s lead, staying quiet and watching the movie.

“Why don’t we go to bed?” John murmured to her a little while later when she’d jerked herself awake for the third time.

“No, I’m not tired, I told you, I want to watch this.”

"You just fell-" Scott started but John cut him off with a warning eyebrow raise.

"I did no such thing," she grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter to prove her point. "I was watching."

“Of course you were,” John agreed placidly, not bothering to argue with her but I did notice that his fingers snuck into her hair, playing with a few strands. She sighed softly, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the action on the screen, letting herself relax again.

She lasted another fifteen minutes before she stopped fighting her body's needs and closed her eyes, letting them stay closed.

A soft snore drew our attention and we turned from the projection to see Alan, mouth open, eyes closed, fast asleep. John shifted slightly, pulling witchy onto his lap, letting Alan's pillow slide down taking him with it. His hand snuck out, tugging at Alan’s blanket, pulling it up to cover his head.

We waited a few more minutes, sitting quietly, not wanting to risk breaking the fragile peace by waking them up, allowing them to settle deeper into sleep.

“OK, I think we’re good,” John whispered conspiritally.

“How did you know to do that?” Scott asked, shocked to the core that his standard approach of ordering followed by threats had failed on both his brother and his best friend, while John had sailed in and succeeded with minimal effort and without raising his voice once.

“They always do that,” John said, shrugging one shoulder so as not to disturb her. “She’s a woman, you can guarantee she’ll say she wants to watch a movie but she’ll fall asleep half way through, she always does. If she can’t sleep I'll just put an episode of something on and that usually does the trick.”

He pointed to Alan. “It’s the same with him. Who do you think he called in the middle of the night when he was thinking too much about homework or the million other things that teenagers seem to worry about? Tell him to pick a movie, cover him with a blanket and he’ll be out in minutes.”

“That’s…” Scott paused, unsure what to say. “Useful to know,” he finished.

"Arguing and pushing someone doesn't always work, you have to use your brain, assess the situation and pick your battles. Tired people are stubborn people."

"You can say that again," I muttered having dealt with my fair share of tired and stubborn family members, the two worst culprits being the ones currently talking.

“You take care of him, I’ve got her,” John nodded at Alan, smoothly changing the subject.

Scott helped me lift Alan who, although skinny, was growing lankier by the day, all long limbs and sharp elbows that you have to arrange carefully or risk dropping him. I took him to his room, putting him to bed then returned to fetch Scott.

“He still asleep”? Scott asked, still in his chair.

“Yep,” I answered. “He’ll be in for a surprise when he wakes up though, he hardly ever uses his bed. He'll think that he teleported again.”

"True enough," Scott chucked softly. "You need help with her?" He nodded at witchy, who hadn't moved.

"Nope, I got this, it's not my first time." With the ease of much practice he gathered her closer, sliding an arm under her legs, shuffled to the edge of the couch and got awkwardly to his feet. "You two should get some sleep too."

"We will," I assured him.

"Well, see you both in the morning," he said, heading to the door.

"Wait a second," I called and he paused. I grabbed the little notebook she'd left on the table, holding it up for him to see. "She hasn't filled this in today, you wanna take it?"

"She doesn't trust me," he shifted her slightly, rebalancing her in his arms, her face buried in his neck. "Not since last time, though I don't know what she expected when she told me to report what had happened, reports are for the facts, I did just that. If she'd wanted me to recall every single detail of the day she should have specified that. You write it."

"Sure, I can do that," I agreed, pocketing it.

"Night then."

"Night, John."

"Night, Scott."

"Goodnight."

Three down, one to go.

"Come on, bro, all your chicks are nested, now it's our turn," I said, patting his shoulder as I passed. "Even smother hens have to sleep some time."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, " he grumbled, yawning loudly, stretching as he got to his feet, too tired to even protest the hated nickname. "Bedtime."

#alantracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Isolation Island #isolation #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction

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padfootagain · 4 years

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (VII)

Part 7: How A Mistake Was Made

Here we go for a new chapter!! You're finally going to understand where the title of this series comes from!!

I warn you, this is angsty. The flashback is angsty. Sorry… you'd better get some tissue before diving into this!

I hope you like it all the same! Lots of explanation here again thanks to the flashback! The next chapter will be more about the present days again.

I hope you like this! Don't forget to tell me what you think about it, I most definitely need a little help to write these days!

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 5951 (sorry it's a bit long)

Holmes Chapel, 2011

It was Valentine's Day. He was 17 and his world was changing at a speed he couldn't comprehend.

It was great, for the most part. It was completely crazy, actually: he was making an album. He was going to sing and travel around the world. How mad was that?

When he had left Holmes Chapel, he thought he would be back in a week. Maybe two. It would be a fun thing to discuss with you. How mad it was. How weird the whole experience had been, but let's be honest, he was only 16 and he wasn't mature enough for anything as big as this. He would slip back under his covers in his bedroom, and you would cuddle together while watching stupid videos on youtube that made you have this loud and uncontrollable laughter, and you would hide the bag of chocolates you had smuggled into his room when Anne would climb up the stairs.

But he didn't come home at all.

Instead, he went through the whole show, and after the X-factor was done, he was pushed into London City. It had been almost a year, and you had barely seen him.

It was strange to walk the same streets without him. It was strange to not have him sitting next to you in class anymore. It was strange to not go to his house after school every night and eat with him and Gemma while watching some dumb show on TV. It was strange not having him pushing you around on the way to school whenever you weren't quite awake yet.

And the truth was, it was unbearable almost, the way you missed him.

The hurricane he had been caught into was just as strange for him than it was for you, and he missed you just as much as you missed him.

And this shift in your relationship that had appeared right before he would leave had been on hold ever since.

You had almost kissed that evening. If Anne had not opened the front door right at that moment, you would have kissed. And as he was to leave the next day, he didn't bring the moment you had shared again. He reckoned that he ought to tell you how he felt face to face.

He wasn't quite sure what it meant yet being in love with someone, but he reckoned that if he had to give a definition, he would have given your name as an answer.

He was a little lost, and he wasn't sure of how he felt exactly, because he had never experienced anything like it before, but what he was certain about was that he wanted to explore whatever this was. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to cuddle with you and hold you tight and peck your nose. He wanted to be close to you all the time, it drove him insane.

And when he had been given the opportunity to go home for Valentine's day, he believed in a sign.

You couldn't come to celebrate his birthday in London, so you had promised to spend the weekend with him whenever he would come. And it started tonight.

Harry checked his reflection in the mirror of his old bedroom one last time, straightening the collar of his white shirt under his jersey. A red rose was resting on his bed, and he checked once again that the leaves had not suffered from the lack of water during the past 15 minutes. But they were not wilted, and he looked with satisfaction at the flower.

Romantic. Perfect. Because tonight was the night when he would ask you to be his girlfriend.

And if he were honest, he found that this prospect was scarier than walking on that stage for the first time and sing before a jury.

What if you said no?

But he pushed the thought away. Because that night, a year ago, you had almost kissed him too.

But a year had passed...

Yes, a year had passed, but he was certain that you didn't have a boyfriend. You hadn't mentioned anything to him or to Gemma, and that meant that you were single. He wasn't in Holmes Chapel anymore, but he was still your best friend.

Hopefully, that would change tonight though.

He walked down the stairs with his rose in his shaky hand. Anne eyed him from the living room, pretending to watch TV. When he struggled to arrange the collar of his black winter coat though, his mother couldn't help but walk over to him. She gently pushed his hands away and fumbled with the soft material until it was folded just the right way. She gave her son an encouraging smile and pinched his cheek affectionately.

"Good luck."

"I think I'm gonna throw up," he admitted, before turning to the door.

"It's only Y/N. It'll be fine," Anne encouraged him.

She crossed her fingers for him and he reciprocated the gesture before walking out of the house and into the cold air.

The wind bit down on his cheeks, making them flushed and painful. He ignored the sensation though, and hurried down the path and towards your house.

How many times had he walked this same path leading to your house? Thousands and thousands of times, without a doubt...

It was the evening already, and February coming with its shorter days, it was already pitch-black outside. It had snowed that morning, and the grass and pavement all around the street were covered with half-melted ice. The rooftops were of an immaculate white, although the lampposts scattered down the lane were barely enough to show them. The clouds of the morning had cleared through the afternoon, and the night sky was stained with pale stars. The moon though was nowhere to be seen.

And for the first time in twelve years, he was nervous as he knocked on your front door, the same red paint that had always been there, chipped at the corners and a little diluted by the sun.

You were quick to open the door, and Harry could have sworn that he was having a heart-attack as he saw you again.

You were wearing a simple pair of blue jeans and a warm sweater. Simple. Comfy. The most adorable sight he had ever seen

You were even more beautiful than the last time he had seen you for real... how were you even human at this point?

"Hi, Y/N..."

But he was cut short as you threw yourself at him, sure that he would catch you. And he did, he always did.

You both laughed, your nerves slowly dissolving as you held each other tight.

"Harry!"

"It's me," he nodded, chuckling some more.

"I've missed you so much... I can't believe you're here!"

"I've missed you too. So much!"

"You have so much stuff to tell me. And I have too. You'll never guess who Jeremy ended up with."

"Jeremy? With Ashley?"

"With Leila."

"What?! No way!" He exclaimed, pulling away just enough to look up at you as he was still carrying you, your legs now wrapped around him like a koala.

You nodded with shock all over your features.

"You'll tell me everything. I need to know what kind of drama could have unfolded to lead to these two getting together."

He pressed his face into your neck again, right where it belonged, and you closed your eyes as his warm breath hit your skin softly, a vivid contrast with the cold air of the early evening.

Finally, he gently put you back down, feeling that you were starting to shiver in the cold weather.

And at last, you noticed that he was holding a rose in his hand. You looked up at him questioningly, and Harry was certain that he was going to either throw up or pass out then.

He opened his mouth to offer to go inside to talk because it was awfully cold outside, when someone new appeared on the threshold.

And Harry froze.

It was a boy. Around your age. He had never seen him before.

Who…? What…?

"Oh, Harry, this is Joel! Jo, this is Harry!"

Jo?!

"Hi, man!" Joel shook Harry's hand.

"Hi."

Who was that guy, and what was he doing here? It was the evening, and it was Valentine's Day, and it was the day Harry finally came home to Holmes Chapel and…

Oh…

You had a boyfriend…

"Why don't you come in, Harry?" you offered, but your best friend was still staring at Joel.

You… you had a boyfriend?

"Harry?"

You tilted your head to the side, frowning at him. You were shivering in the cold now, your teeth chattering before you would clench your jaw to stop the shaking. Your breath drew patterns in the light coming from your house behind you. And you were breathtaking, as always. You were absolutely perfect.

You had a boyfriend.

Harry tightened his hold on the rose without noticing, until a thorn was piercing the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

"Uhm… Actually, I was just saying hello, but I got to go."

"Oh, okay…" you nodded, although you were clearly disappointed.

"Yeah, I… I've got to go."

"Still busy because of the band?"

"Uhm… No, I… I've got something to do."

You looked at the rose again, and then at his eyes, your gaze travelling back and forth a few times.

Of course, you were wondering what he was doing with this flower in his hand.

And he could have given it to you. Given you the benefit of the doubt. Gone forth with his plan anyway. Asked about your boyfriend.

But it seemed wrong and mean and all in all, useless. You had found someone else, and on one hand he was the one to blame. A year had passed since that moment you had shared in his house, and so much was different now. He should have asked you about all this before, instead of waiting for you to be gone. He was too late, that was all.

And maybe he had given the moment too much meaning. Maybe you didn't mean much by it. Maybe you had forgotten about it altogether.

And there he was with a rose for you after spending months building his hopes up. What a fool he was… What an absolute idiot…

"Hmm… yeah, I… I've got to go see Melanie."

"Melanie?"

"Yeah, I… I have a date."

Your expression remained unreadable, although he saw the way your jaw clenched. But he attributed the symptom to the fact that he had promised to spend some time with you tonight, and your best friend was bailing out on you.

Yes, that was why you seemed confused, and a little sad.

"Oh," was your only answer.

He nodded, taking a step back.

"Will you still be here tomorrow?" you asked, following him one step further, chasing after him even if for a single step, the way you always had and always would.

"Yeah, I'm leaving in a week."

"Can you… Maybe we could go to the cinema tomorrow or… just… chill and catch up?"

"I… I don't know, Gemma's back too to see me so…"

"Oh, okay…"

"And I want to spend some time with my mum too, so..."

"Of course, you… you don't see her that much either."

"Yeah."

"Well, just… tell me when you're free, okay? I… I've really missed you and I… I really want to catch up with you."

"Okay. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Good night, Harry."

Before you could say anything else, Harry had turned on his heels and was hurrying down the street. He turned left to cross through the gardens and come back to his house discretely. When he knocked at the kitchen door, Anne welcomed him back inside with a deep frown.

"Already? What happened? And why are you coming back from there… we have a front door, you know?"

But he didn't answer and merely rushed inside, throwing the rose in the sink. He was taking off his coat when Anne realized what it all meant.

"Oh… darling, I'm sorry."

She wrapped her arms around her son, but Harry didn't reciprocate the gesture.

"I need to be alone right now," he whispered, but Anne tightened her hold on him.

"Are you sure? You don't want to tell me what happened?"

He struggled to swallow the lump in his throat, his voice made hoarse by pain.

"She… she has a boyfriend," he simply answered, and Anne heaved a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, darling."

"It's alright. It was a long shot anyway."

"Did you ask her about this boyfriend of hers? Maybe it isn't that serious."

"No, I didn't. I just… I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay."

"I need to be alone right now, mum."

"I'm here if you need anything, okay?"

Harry merely nodded, giving his mother a small smile as he finally broke away from her embrace. He hurried upstairs, while Anne looked at him with a pained expression on her face, but there wasn't much that she could do to help.

He walked in his bedroom and closed the door behind him, not bothering in turning on the light, and when he remembered his lie about Melanie, he decided to remain in the dark for a while longer. This same bedroom in which the two of you had spent countless hours laughing and joking around and doing your homework and reading and watching stupid videos of cats on his computer. You had fallen asleep together in his bed during sleepovers. You had broken his shelf while trying to imitate some martial art. You had broken your toe against his bed simply because you were so damn clumsy sometimes. You had played video games together through sleepless nights. You had read your favourite books to him out loud. He still had that sheet of paper upon which you had learned how to write his name in one of his drawers.

His life was so full of you.

He let himself slip down the length of the door until he was sitting on the wooden floor. When had the tears started to flow? He wasn't sure, but they were there nonetheless.

He looked up to his window, through which he could get a glimpse at your bedroom. Your light was on, and through the think curtains, he could guess your shadow moving on the other side of the windowpane. There was another shadow with you, a little taller, and he didn't need much effort to guess that it was Joel. He watched the two shadows moving closer to meld into one broader shape instead. He kicked the foot of his bed as he imagined the two of you kissing. And if he wasn't sure of what his feelings for you meant, he was absolutely certain that the cause behind his pain now was heartbreak.

He tried to look away, focus onto anything but you and Joel wrapped in each other's arms in your bedroom.

Because indeed, you were in Joel's arms at that moment. With your own arms around his neck and your head resting against his shoulder. And it felt nice. You felt better like this, being held.

You reckoned that you were lucky to have your cousin by your side. You were lucky that he had managed to travel for your mother's birthday and stayed for a few extra days. You were lucky that he was there now, with you, to cradle your head in his hand while you cried harder than you had ever cried before.

Because you had waited for a year for Harry to come back. Because you had imagined thousands of times how you would talk about that interrupted moment in his kitchen. Because you dreamt of being held by him instead, and you wondered what it felt like to be kissed by him. And when he had been standing there with that rose, for a moment, you had hoped that maybe the flower was for you. That perhaps he felt the same, had the same anticipation as you did at the thought of the two of you spending some quality time together again, and the same apprehension at the idea of talking about the almost-kiss from the previous year. But then, he had told you the rose was for Melanie, and not for you. It was Valentine's Day and he was going to give Melanie a red rose, the message was loud and clear.

Maybe he had even forgotten about that moment in his kitchen, it was the most painful thought that kept on twirling around in your mind.

Yes, you were glad your cousin Joel was there to hold you while you cried over your first heartbreak.

Loch Lomond, 2020

Now that you were up and eating your breakfast, your hair still damped from your morning shower, you noticed how sore your legs were after the hike of the day before. If you didn't regret at all your long walk in the mountains, as the view from the top was most definitely worth a few cramps now, you still wished you could go back in bed and lay there all day.

But your plans for a restful day didn't match the schedule your cousin had prepared for the week, and there was no way you could refuse Cassie anything the week before her wedding. Which was why you found yourself walking towards the loch with the rest of the guests, chatting with Patrick and your parents. Harry was a few steps behind, lost in a conversation of his own, even though he was sometimes distracted from the words spoken to him because he kept a careful eye on Patrick all the way from the lodge to the shore of the loch, cautious at being as discreet in his surveillance as he could.

Cassie had planned an outing across the loch. She had rented some rowboats for the day, that were merely ten minutes away from the lodge. The idea was to cross the loch with the boats, have lunch on the other side, and explore the forest a little maybe, and then coming back to the lodge for the early evening.

The weather was merciful, the day a little warmer than the previous one, and the sun was bright now that it was high enough in the blue sky. There were barely any lazy clouds to cover the light, and the waters of the loch reflected the clear sky like an azure mirror. The shores were not too muddy thanks to the sunny weather, although the layers of multicoloured skeleton leaves that covered the ground had a tendency to trap the morning dew for a little longer than usual, making the earth still a little wetter than what it should have been. It made your footsteps loud in the quiet morning.

Cassie insisted for you to join her and her fiancée in their boat, so you complied, leaving Harry to share a rowboat with other guests.

It didn't really surprise you to have Cassie insisting on you joining her. You had not seen each other in a very long time because of your studies, and you had lots of things to catch up on. Besides, you were expecting to be questioned about your 'relationship' with Harry.

And indeed, you were not disappointed.

Five minutes into the trip, as soon as you were a few meters away from the other boats, Cassie was more or less abandoning the oar she was in charge of to lean towards you instead, an excited glimmer in her eyes.

"So… you and Harry? I want to hear everything!"

You laughed, shaking your head.

"There's not so much to say about it," you rolled your eyes, diverting your attention from her eager eyes by shaking your drying locks, as if trying to make your hair dry faster.

"Not much to tell about it?! Are you kidding me?! After all these years of the two of you being oblivious morons, you finally are together!"

"We didn't spend years being oblivious morons, thank you very much!" you defended yourself, but your cousin was far from convinced.

"Yes, you did!"

"Honey, you need to help me control the boat," Cassie's fiancée blurted out, struggling with her own oar, but your cousin was too busy with you to care about where the boat was heading.

"How did you two finally come to your senses?" she asked.

"We… had a little bit too much to drink one evening, at a party," you explained, hoping she wouldn't notice that you were lying. "And we ended up… saying things that we wouldn't have admitted while sobber, I guess. And we… kissed. Then, the next day, we talked about it and came to the conclusion that it was for the better that we got it out in the open. And we decided to take the risk and try a relationship."

She let out an excited shriek, letting go of the oar completely, making Amy roll her eyes at her and giving up her own oar as well. She knew your cousin enough to be aware that she wouldn’t be focused on anything but you as long as her curiosity for gossips wasn't satisfied.

"I can't believe it took you guys this long to finally agree to be together!" she swatted your leg playfully. "But then, you both are stubborn and a little stupid, so… not so surprising."

"Thanks for the compliment," you answered with irony, making both the women in front of you laugh.

"And so far, how is it going?"

"Good. It's… it's going great."

"What about the distance?"

"Huh… so far we haven't had to deal with that too much but… we're used to not being around each other constantly so I'm not too worried."

"Yeah, but… it's different between friends and between lovers," Amy replied.

"Uhm… yeah, I guess," you tried to escape her question.

"Has he written songs about you?" Cassie asked, a softness spreading across her features, and both you and Amy chuckled at the sight of the desperate romantic your cousin sometimes was.

"No, he hasn't!" you replied.

"None that you know of, at least!" Cassie replied with a snort. "He was already writing songs about you before you two got together, so he's obviously writing some now too!"

"No, he wasn't!" you shook your head, frowning.

"Huh… yes, he was."

"Of course not!"

"He was! You have to be blind to not realize that yet! He's been head over heels for you for years!"

You rolled your eyes, hoping the gesture would be enough of an answer, because you weren't sure how to respond to her without betraying the truth.

After all, she would know he had never felt this way for you if you told her that he had never, for certain, written any songs about you. Because for all these years, he had never seen anything but a friend in you. There had been one moment when you were sixteen… but then time had passed and had turned the instant in a fading memory. And there was nothing else to be said about it all. He went on to have other relationships, and you did the same, and he fell in love and wrote songs about other people, and never about you. And you were fine with that.

But you couldn’t sell Cassie the story of shared feelings with Harry if you told her that he had never seen anything in you but a friend.

Luckily for you, she dropped that particular subject, to come to another, just as personal and problematic for you to answer.

"And… when did he first say that he loves you, then?"

You scoffed, faking to be a little embarrassed.

"That is none of your business!"

"But he said it then!" Cassie let out another excited shriek. "Knowing him, it must have been awfully romantic," she went on with a dreamy sigh.

By her side, Amy rolled her eyes at her, an amused smile on her lips.

The other boats of the party were drifting across the loch as well, a few meters away and, hopefully, out of earshot. But you were too busy trying to make your way through Cassie's sudden interview to pay much attention to the rest of the guests.

"Anyway, it ought to be more romantic than when Amy told me she loved me for the first time," she threw a knowing glance at her fiancée, who frowned at her in response.

"It was kind of romantic, when you think of it!" Amy defended herself.

"I was sick! I was throwing up in your toilets!"

"I was holding your hair!"

"I WAS PUKING!" Cassie fought back.

"When you think of it, it was kind of cute," you defended Amy with a chuckle. "It meant that she loved you even if she was seeing you being disgusting."

"Exactly!" Amy agreed.

Cassie laughed, before leaning to kiss the fresh pout away from her fiancée's lips.

"You're right. It was kind of cute. Memorable, if anything else."

It was Amy's time to laugh, before leaning for another peck.

And seeing the couple together like this, you had to admit that you were a little jealous. If you weren't complaining about being single, you still had to admit that, looking at these two being adorable together, you wanted that too, one day.

You didn't even notice your eyes drifting away and settling on a colourful jumper in another of the boats, your brain refusing to register the interruption in the movement of your eyes, or who the jumper and the mess of brown curls belonged to.

"Anyway, next question I have to ask," Cassie brought you back to the present, and you settled your attention on her again. "How is the sex?"

You chocked on your own breath.

"What?! What kind of question is that?!" you protested, but Cassie merely shrugged while Amy was exploding with laughter at your reaction.

"Sex can be important in a relationship! Depends on the relationship, of course. Some people don't need that. But Harry is obviously very touchy and horny, like… that's just who he is. So I assume sex is gonna be a part of the relationship that… counts at least. How is it going?"

"Cassie!"

"What? We're all grown-ups! Don't act all shy now!

"I… It's going perfectly fine, thank you for your concern," you answered, clearly embarrassed.

"Good… you won't give me any more details on what's going on down there…?"

"CASSIE!"

"Okay, okay! I was just curious!"

You buried your face in both your hands, groaning in embarrassment.

"Besides, I'm asking cause… I'm a bit worried for you two, if I'm honest."

At that comment though, you looked up at Cassie again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, it's just…" she shrugged, trying to find the right words. "You and Harry don't seem so… different around each other than you were… before. You know?"

It was your turn to shrug.

"We've always been kind of close. And Harry isn't so much in PDA anyway."

"Hmm…" your cousin nodded, but was clearly unconvinced. "I don't know, I just… feel like maybe you're not putting enough… tenderness into it. Okay, he held your hand a couple of times but… you're not kissing, or stealing many glances or… I mean, no more than usual. I don't know, just… I'm worried about you two. A relationship can't work if you don't put efforts into it, and you don't seem to put too much effort into it for now."

You were near panicking by now.

Had you and Harry done such a bad job at selling the whole fake relationship? Even your cousin was doubting you. You reckoned that a conversation with Harry was needed.

But right now, you needed to find an explanation, and fast.

You heaved a sigh.

"It's just… it's a bit weird being together around my parents and the whole family, you know?" you lied, hoping with all your might that Cassie would bite into the bait. "I'd love to be a bit more obvious about it, but then I notice my parents are around, and I feel like a teenager about to get caught snogging her boyfriend in her bedroom by her dad… you know what I mean? And I think Harry kinda feel the same."

Cassie nodded knowingly, before leaning forward and taking your hand.

"I get it. It must be weird to change your relationship with Harry and suddenly come forth with it in front of everyone. Especially when Harry has been your friend and a part of this family for so long now. But… you need to relax. Everyone around here loves Harry, and more importantly, everyone simply wants you to be happy. And it's obvious that your happiness lays with Harry, it's always been obvious. So… relax. Enjoy your relationship and stop caring so much about everybody else. Can you do that for me? Consider it my wedding gift."

You were strangely touched by her caring words, and you found yourself fighting tears for some reason. Maybe it was because Cassie was so genuinely concerned for you and only wanted the brightest happiness for you, it was obvious in her tone and her words alike. Maybe it was because of what she said about Harry and you. It was hard to tell.

But you nodded anyway, choosing to joke to relieve the emotion that filled the air above the loch all of a sudden.

"I'll try, thank you for your advice. But… I've already bought you one of the things on your stupid wedding list, so… that would make too many gifts."

She laughed with you, finally pulling away, and taking back her oar. But she didn't start manoeuvring the boat before one last word was spoken through a tender smile.

"I'm really happy for you, Y/N. He'll make you happy, I know it. He'll love you the way you deserve to be adored. He always has, even when you didn't know he did."

You weren't surprised to find Harry playing with the two young children that were part of the guests. Amy's nephews and nieces were, after all, some of the cutest children you had ever met, and Harry was known for his love for children. So, when you went looking for him to talk about what your cousin had confessed in the boat about her doubts about the two of you, and found your best friend giggling in the most adorable way, chasing after Amy's eight-year-old nephew, in this ridiculous way he had to run sometimes, you couldn't refrain a grin. None of them seemed to notice you as you approached them, they were too busy playing on the shore of the loch. The rest of the two families were setting down blankets and the food needed for the picnic a few meters away, the boats safely dragged up the shore when you arrived to the other side of the loch. And you thought you could use this amount of time when everyone else was busy to have a quick conversation with Harry. But then, you were met with this adorable scene that now unfolded before you, and really, you couldn't interrupt them.

It was as if you were held back by an invisible force, really. All of a sudden, your feet were planted in the ground, and there was no willpower to summon in yourself to make your body move forward. Instead, you remained motionless under the autumnal sun, the wind making the colourful leaves whisper above you, and stared at your best friend being the softest ray of sunshine you had ever seen.

And there it was again. This warm feeling invading your whole chest that you had spent so long trying to banish from your heart. No need to put a name on it. No need to make it harder and more painful than it already was.

Why did he have to be like this all the time? He made it so hard to forget him. And he was so oblivious to it all that you couldn't even be mad at him for it.

Really sometimes, you hated him a little because of it. And as you watched him run around after the child, purposefully missing as he extended his arms to grab the boy, a ridiculous expression on his face as he laughed under the sun, wearing that stupid oversized jumper stained with bright colours of his, his unruly hair a mess of curls shaken by the wind, you did hate him a little. You hated him for making you feel the way you did now.

It took him a couple of minutes to notice that you were there, leaning against the trunk of an evergreen pine tree. Once he spotted you, he shot you a bright smile, before making a silly face that made you laugh despite yourself. It wasn't your fault, after all. He was so goofy sometimes, how were you supposed to resist him?

You shook your head at him, before nodding towards the trees that climbed up the shores, all the way up the slopes of the mountains around the lochs. Harry seemed to catch what you meant, as he sent the children back to their parents, and followed you as discreetly as he could further in the forest.

There were bushes filled with thorns that you almost tore your jeans onto. Only a few meters away, a small clearing filled with purple heather and tall green ferns was splayed in sunshine. Pine trees left their needles everywhere, making a brownish blanket upon the earth. A few colourful deciduous trees finished to paint the scene with touches of brighter colours to stain the blank blue sky. You figured the clearing was far enough to not be heard.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked with a concerned frown when you stopped walking and turned to him with worry painted all across your features.

"I had a talk with Amy in the boat."

"And?"

"And… we're not doing so good."

"What do you mean? Do you mean she's… suspicious about us being together?"

"Kind of. I mean… no, she didn't go this far," you reassured him. "But she asked if everything was alright between us because she thought we weren't… uhm… showing our feelings enough."

Harry heaved a sigh, pinching his lower lip between his fingers, clear sign that he was thinking and worried.

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"Look, we just need to up our game a little. I thought my family would be more easily convinced, but as they clearly don't seem to be buying it, I reckon that we simply have to… put a little more effort pretending."

"So… what do you propose we do?"

"Just… more PDA, I guess."

Harry's cheeks and ears turned crimson, and there was nowhere for him to hide this time.

"Alright. I can do that."

"Let's just… full on pretend we're together, okay? Holding hands, and hugs or whatever… you would do with your girlfriend in public... I mean… with people you know around."

"Okay."

"We can do this, H."

"We don't exactly have a choice at this point, do we?"

You didn't answer, and instead, walked back towards your family to join them for lunch, leaving Harry to meditate on your words on his own.

But then, he reckoned he didn't have a choice. If you wanted him to fully lean in the pretend, then he'd do it. No matter how dangerous that behaviour could end up being.

*****************************************************************

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queenk00k · 4 years

Text

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 2)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.9K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

the one where those damn kooks are charming when they want to be

JJ had never really gotten used to a beating. He knew when to expect one, based off Luke’s mood when he got home, the glint in his eye, the way his tone changed when he spoke to him. Thanks to being scared shitless of his dad for the majority of his childhood, JJ was well attuned to the subtleties of other people’s emotions. Silver lining, he figured. Means he always knew when the other Pogues were pissed at him without them saying anything, always knew when Rafe was looking for a fight.

Didn’t make having the crap kicked out of him any more enjoyable.

“You think I wasn’t going to find out you stole from me, you stupid boy?” Luke spits his words as if they were venom, standing over JJ who’s clutching his stomach in pain on the floor.

JJ looks up at his father, jaw clenched. “I was helping John B, Dad! I thought you’d be happy I was screwing over the cops! We didn’t know about the storm!”

JJ quickly comes to realise that was the wrong thing to say.

Luke’s eyes are aflame with rage, his stare boring holes into JJ as his dad hoists him up by the front of his shirt and slams him into the wall, fists clenched around the cheap cotton.

“Happy?! Boy, nothing about you makes me happy.”

A punch to JJ’s gut.

“You cost me thousands –“

Another blow, this time to his jaw.

“- spend your life doing fuck all except smoking weed-“

JJ attempts to throw Luke off him but the older man is stronger, despite clearly being drunk out of his mind, and he slams JJ back against the wall, knocking a picture onto the hardwood floor in the process.

“And now you’ve stolen from me, you ungrateful, worthless piece of shit!”

Luke slams his fist into the side of JJ’s head and his father’s red face, contorted with rage, is the last thing JJ sees before he falls, unconscious, onto the floorboards.

When JJ comes to, head pounding, he blinks his eyes open slowly and raises his hand to the side of his face. He brings his fingers away from his cheek shakily, notices they’re sticky with blood, touches his lip gingerly and realises that’s split and swollen too.

JJ grunts and moves to roll onto his back before attempting to get up.

Attempting the operative word, as a searing pain in his side forces him to lay back down briefly, hissing at the pain.

Great, he thinks. He’s really done a number on me this time.

JJ lays there for a few moments, staring up at the slightly dilapidated ceiling of the Chateau, listening for any telltale signs Luke was still in the vicinity. He wouldn’t be surprised if Luke stuck around to lay down another beating but he’s grateful for the silence that confirms he’s been left alone once again.

After a few shaky breaths, JJ finally finds the courage to stand to his feet, wincing at the soreness in his body and making a mental note to find an icepack somewhere in the kitchen. Kiara used to be the one to look after him when he showed up at the Chateau after disappearing for days, her gentle touch calming him more than he liked to admit, soothing his bruises and making him feel like someone gave a shit about him.

JJ swallows thickly. He wishes Kiara was here now.

JJ scoffs at the thought and the feeling of tenderness dissipates as quickly as it appears, replaced by the more familiar feeling of bitterness that rises up like bile.

Resigning to the fact that he won’t see Kiara for a very long time because she doesn’t want to see him (conveniently forgetting that it’s not like she has that much choice in the matter), JJ sighs heavily and makes his way down the hall.

JJ ignores the feeling of complete desperation and confusion as he enters his old, dead friend’s kitchen and opens the fridge, silently praying the cops at least had the decency to leave their beer alone.

For the first time in a few weeks, something’s gone his way and JJ cracks open a Budweiser, letting himself smile ever so slightly.

He’s surprised he remembers how.

Drinking alone is never as fun as you think it is.

JJ’s sprawled out on the steps of the porch at 1am, beer bottles surrounding him like a shrine, his Zippo the only form of light in an otherwise unusually dark night.

Suddenly, JJ gets the overwhelming urge to take his bike and ride it across the island to Figure 8.

Never mind that he’s drunk, never mind that he knows he’ll find his way back to places that painfully remind him of his friends, and never mind that by taking the risk of going to the other side of the island he could run into a Kook.

Maybe JJ was looking for a fight tonight.

Before he’s had a chance to think rationally (but when does he ever?), JJ is speeding through the streets of Figure 8, past big Kook houses and Kook golf courses, struggling to keep his bike straight as his vision blurs.

He’s doing reasonably well at staying on the road for someone of his inebriated state, and he’s honestly pretty impressed with himself, enjoying the feeling of the warm wind whipping through his hair.

That is, until he realises he’s going past the Crain house and he sees Rose Cameron’s face on a placard and he’s filled with overwhelming rage and he’s distracted and all of a sudden the bike swerves off the road.

JJ panics and makes a futile attempt to straighten up again, but its too late and he skids off the road and is catapulted into a thicket of trees.

JJ groans and pats himself down, checking that he still has all of his necessary limbs. He breathes deeply and squeezes his eyes shut.

Typical, he thinks.

JJ plans to stay lying on the side of the road for the rest of the night, if he’s honest with himself, before a girl’s voice snaps him out of his reverie.

“You know you’re supposed to keep the bike upright, don’t you?”

JJ opens one eye to see someone, a Kook, standing over him. She’s slender and dressed in a white sundress, the contrast stark against her tanned skin, her dark hair tied back in a braid.

JJ huffs. “What do you care, Kook?”

The girl crouches down and looks at his battered face, wincing. It’s not the usual disdain JJ is used to – he thinks he can actually see some pity reflected in her features.

“You look like shit, what happened?”

“Leave me – wait, do I know you from somewhere?”

JJ knows he’s a good friend, but sometimes it feels like he’s loyal to a fault.

That’s how he finds himself in the middle of a Kook nightmare, pressed against rich assholes dressed in designer clothes, all for the annual Midsummers party.

JJ’s walking around the perimeter of the country club, looking over his shoulder for Rafe and his henchmen and cursing John B under his breath for putting himself in this situation in the first place.

He’s needing to pretend to be a waiter, so JJ is absentmindedly picking up empty glasses as he goes, feeling grateful he hasn’t had to speak to someone yet.

That is, of course, until he almost trips over a figure crouched down on the patio.

“Woah, you trying to kill me?”

JJ looks down and sees a girl in a black dress, bending down, her fingers wrapped around the neck of a vodka bottle.

“Can I point out that you’re the one in my way? This is a tripping hazard.”

The brunette girl rolls her eyes and gives JJ the finger, but he can tell its not malicious.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pogue.”

JJ widens his eyes in panic. Cover blown.

The girl chuckles. “I know you’re a Pogue. I’m drunk, not stupid. Plus, don’t think I haven’t seen you around at the boneyard.”

JJ hates that he wants to flirt with her, and he clears his throat. “What’s your deal?”

“I won’t tell the Camerons you’re here, practically committing fraud, and you won’t snitch to the country club that I stole their top shelf vodka to spice up my evening.”

JJ’s mildly impressed. “I guess we’re both criminals,” he replies and moves to walk away, before turning back briefly. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The girl smiled mysteriously. “Unimportant.”

“Yeah. You nearly tripped over me at Midsummers,” the girl replies, holding her hand out for JJ to take, which he does, and helps him onto his feet.

JJ attempts to dust himself off. “Do I get to know your name now?”

She smiles. “I’m Scarlett. You’re JJ, right?”

JJ nods. “How’d you know?”

“I know some people that know you, but it’s unimportant. I’m sorry about your friend.”

JJ doesn’t want to talk about John B, least of all with a Kook. “Right, well, I best get going,” he says as he turns towards his bike, dreading the ride back to the Chateau.

Scarlett looks at him incredulously. “You look nasty as fuck.”

“Thanks,” JJ responds bitterly.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “You didn’t let me finish. Let me take you back to mine, help you clean up a bit.”

Then, sensing the hesitation in JJ, she adds “At least let me give you bandaid or something, and you can do it yourself if you’re so tough.”

JJ figures there’s no harm in using someone’s supplies, especially a Kook’s, and it’s not like he can go home to anyone else.

He shrugs. “Sure, whatever, thanks.”

After Scarlett convinces JJ his bike will be just fine hidden at the Crain property (the Camerons have more pressing issues at the moment, Scarlett tells him, her voice catching), they make their way to Scarlett’s house.

It’s the biggest and most impressive house he’s ever been in, and JJ can’t help but feel extremely uncomfortable at the thought of stepping into a Kook’s home.

“Where are your parents?” He asks, as Scarlett rummages around in her drawers for first aid supplies, his arms folded over his chest.

“They’re out,” she replies simply, and brandishes cream and bandaids at him. “Are you going to let me do this for you?”

JJ furrows his brow and snatches the supplies from her outstretched hand.

“I’m good, thanks. I can do it myself.”

Scarlett nods and sits down at the edge of her bed in silence, as JJ clumsily cleans his cuts, face scrunched in pain as it stings. He successfully places the last bandaid and looks at Scarlett, who hasn’t said another word.

“I, uh – thanks, I guess,” JJ says awkwardly, placing his hands in his pockets. “I should go.”

Scarlett looks at her phone at the time, 3:30am, and shakes her head.

“You can stay here, it’s late and I have a feeling you’re not quite up to the ride home.”

JJ panics, eyes wide, and resorts back to guarded defensiveness. “I’m not sleeping here. I don’t even know you.”

Scarlett sighs. “You didn’t seem to have an issue with that when you came home with me. Look, you can sleep on my couch,” she says as she gestures towards the plush couch in the corner of her large bedroom.

JJ huffs. Kooks, he thinks, but he nods reluctantly.

It’s the feeling of overwhelming loneliness, coupled with the fact that someone actually cared about him, that leads JJ to spend the night sleeping on a Kook’s couch.

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#tw: violence #tw: child abuse #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx fanfic #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction

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fangirlyah · 4 years

Text

✦ just an arrangement - Draco Malfoy x Reader (part 1)

summary: the return to the school year with the dark mark is hard enough, but now they must fulfill a more intimate request or they expect a happily ever after with an old death eater.

warnings: none

word count: 1,950

a/n: i’m pretty excited about this so i hope u like it. if u wanna be part of my (still non-existent) tag list for this fic, just tell me :)

a starry night full of light illuminated the sky. very different from the humor y/n was holding.

she saw herself in the mirror, immersed in constant pain, both physical and emotional. her arm, freshly marked by the dark lord, felt almost on fire, stitches and burns that were almost impossible to hold. thanks to her childhood surrounded by darkness due to the alliances of her families, she herself already knew how to create her own healing potions that sootheed her wounds for at least a while.

she was only sixteen, but had a higher weight on her back than any teenager. she was not the only one, her classmate, draco malfoy, had and was suffering a life very similar to hers. but he wasn't very good at hiding it, his thinner body and marked dark circles revealed his stress. but y/n was always a better actress, no one had ever seen the bruises on her arms, nor had she been seen decaying. on the contrary she was known for being one of the sweetest and most positive people with every hogwarts student. thing that put his hair on end, ‘how could she be so calm with everything that was going on?’ she knew a war was coming but he always saw her smiling sweetly at every person who crossed her path. how many times had he smiled that sixth year of hogwarts? maybe not one.

but as he noticed her big white smiles, she noticed the lack of his. she knew what he was going through, his task was very complicated and terrifying, y/n had been lucky enough to be out of the instant murder of her own headmaster, but she had to be in charge of repairing the vanishing cabinet.

they were not friends or anything close to the word, they were acquaintanced despite the number of encounters they had during the months, due to the similar connection of their parents. both only children, completely alone on their way to giving their full life to who-must-not-be-named. y/n did not want to be alone, since she was a child, she had tried to approach the blonde and become his friend, but he did not acknowledge receipt.

"hello, draco! my house elf made pumpkin pie, would you like a piece?" a small y/n took small leaps in her freshly ironed dark blue dress.

"I'd rather die than try something of yours," an eleven-year-old draco disgustingly expressed to the girl who was just looking for his sympathy.

a sympathy that, despite the passage of the years, she had never found. y/n had stopped trying, had stopped fraternizing with draco in the fourth year, when she had slightly begun to develop a crush on him. and she was, and is, smart enough to know that if her hormonal heart kept hearing his wretched words, she would have an almost irreparable broken heart. but it didn't work, because even though he ignored her, she couldn't get him out of her mind. and seeing him at least twice a month at her home, dressed in his pristine suit and his fine hair combed did not help.

"y/n since when is your roasted chicken more important than good gossip?" millicent spoke with her mouth full of crushed potatoes, spitting slightly.

"since always, millie" y/n was not at a time in her life where an adolescent gossip filled all her senses.

"you're very boring... so, it turns out ginevra weasley is in love with potter!"

"I'm not at all surprised, weirdos like weirdos" pansy parkinson, despite the years that elapsed, did not seem to forget her hatred of gryffindor and everything related to it, especially the golden trio and its own close ones.

it was a Friday night and despite the icy weather and sun falling much earlier, the great hall was full of students enjoying their dinners. at the slytherin table there were most students, but there wasn't any sign of draco malfoy... but she spoke very quickly.

"get up" a big, cold hand, adorned with silver rings and emeralds that stood out on his pale skin, grabbed y/n by the arm and pulled her with intent to lift her out of the seat.

"sorry?" she looked up to see the blonde with a serious countenance, staring at her.

"hey, we're talking you can't take her that way!" spoke one of her friends but it was too late, y/n was already standing on draco’s side, who kept holding her arm tightly.

"shut your mouth, bulstrode" and with that, draco began to walk quickly without looking back, which she thanked as he would not see her in a hurry and almost stepping on her own feet.

arriving on the seventh floor, finally, a large door suddenly appeared on a white wall, capturing the complete attention of y/n. draco did not hesitate and submerged them both inside the unknown room which turned out to be too small for its immense door.

'the room of requirement' thought y/n immediately, but why did it appear before them? she wondered.

it was the first time y/n and draco had crossed word for at least five months, since the first time they both attended a death eaters meeting as official members. she still remembers how her body trembled and as his did too, but the firm hand of lucius on his back almost held him in his place. she also recalls that their seats were facing each other, and that she saw him swallow heavily when, after the meeting, he saw the girl accidentally shed a salty tear.

"may I ask you what we are doing here?" y/n’s voice sounded shy and calm despite having draco in front of her swinging from one place to the other, regardless of the small space. he did not speak and it had been more than five minutes that they were inside the room and the idea of leaving had crossed y/n’s thoughts, but she knew what he was going through, so she decided to wait.

"you're my girlfriend now..." draco's body stood violently in front of her, leaving a reasonable distance. he didn't look her in the eye, but she knew he was serious.

"what the-... what?"

"we have to be together, the dark lord wants it so"

"since when?..." the confusion took over her body, even though her heart was screaming, 'your crush is telling you to be together, shut up and accept!' but it wasn't that simple.

"in less than six months we will both be seventeen, your parents and mine were married at that age, and they were all already death eaters..."

"it's our turn" y/n thought out loud.

"we must not marry, just... be together...as a couple or we'll be paired with other death eater who's at least fifteen years older and I think we both know that's not a reasonable choice"

"I understand..." it was something they should do sooner or later, then they could split up and submit to some other arranged marriage. but at the moment they were both the best choice of the other. "let's do it"

------------

the idea of pretending to be a couple began to really settle in y/n’s head a week of the event, when draco rested his hands on her shoulders unexpectedly on a sunday for breakfast time. she wanted to bewitch herself when she felt the butterflies she hated so much flowering. those butterflies provoked by him, which she had sworn to bury years ago and which she had clearly failed to achieve.

her friends’ faces were transformed to the sudden change in the attitude of the prince of slytherin. they all noticed that they both slipped away from classes and most social situations over the weeks. but, they would never have assumed they were going away to be together, they were right. they used to escape because of the tasks indicated by who-must-not-be-named or because the terror and darkness had suddenly consumed them.

then the weeks passed and their interactions increased, because they had to increase if they wanted to make it believable.

the arrangement had begun in august and by that month, their only contact was some rubbing of hands in potions or small glances in the great hall, which however minuscule they were, they both knew that they should be noticed.

"you're doing it wrong!-emm...I think you're putting more ingredients than the necessary, y/n" sometimes she wanted her fake boyfriend to be a better actor, his voice changes were notorious, but at least that day they were lucky to be sitting with crabbe and goyle so none of them noticed his weird voice changes, and if they did, they wouldn't have the braveness to ask.

"I've made this potion multiple times, draco. to make it perfect a few drops of agrippa are never too much" the blonde’s ears were still surprised to hear his name, his actual name and not malfoy, come out of y/n’s mouth. despite his attitude towards her, which had not changed since the age of eleven, she continued to treat him delicately.

"you've done this multiple times? this is the first time we are learning potions to close wounds" the last thing he wanted was to make the cute girl uncomfortable, it wouldn't show a good image for their relationship.

"I'm only curious when it comes to potions" but y/n answered with immediate discomfort, much to the chagrin of draco.

by september, their hands were already united from class to class and their bodies were sitting together in the great hall for almost every meal, all of this causing a lot of whispers.

"your hand is sweaty" whispered draco in his ear, as they traversed long meadows to hagrid’s hut.

"sorry... is that everyone is looking at us and it's making me nervous" she wasn't used to being the center of attention, unlike him.

"just... focus on me" draco gave a squeeze to her hand, making y/n think that, finally, the boy had given in to acting cordial in their false relationship. but his phrase wasn't over, "you must do well, I won't let you ruin this."

with that said, y/n focused her thoughts on draco. how he was holding her hand, how she had imagined this so many times and how he seemed unbothered by it. but he wasn't feeling like that.

it was only in october that they first had a meeting alone, only the two of them, with no audience present.

y/n was on a sofa, very close to a large window pointing to the big forests surrounding hogwarts, in the common room. it was the early hours of the morning so the sun was orange painting the sky as if it were its own canvas, lighting everything around it, including y/n. her hard-covered book was on her lap and she moved it so gently that it seemed that her fingers floated. for draco's eyes it was something new. with semi-swollen eyes, a morning voice but perfectly clothed, he watched her from the other side of the place. he didn't think she was a morning person, so when he received the letter and decided to be the first to come down for breakfast as he couldn't fall asleep again, the last thing he thought was he was going to find her there. with her legs contracted towards her and her bright hair braided in a shedding way, was the first thing draco saw that morning. and for a moment, he thanked merlin for waking up so early.

"it's time to go" was the only thing the blonde seemed to say, when he approached the couch where she was. y/n just turned around to see him. she knew exactly what he meant.

#tom felton #harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #imagine #one shots #hogwarts

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skzsauce01 · 4 years

Text

Eternally Yours

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Dogged by poverty, you struggle to raise your daughter until an unknown patron appears and becomes a little more than just a financial support. However, maybe this unknown gentleman isn’t so unknown after all.

Warning: domestic abuse, substance abuse

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: fem!reader x Hyunjin

It is only when the cold morning air slips under your shirt does the gravity of the whole situation make your hands shake and your knees buckle. You immediately crouch under the illumination of a streetlight as tears pour from your eyes. What are you going to do now? You have no job let alone a place to stay. Not to mention the scars left by your lover render your mind immobile. You never once thought things would turn out like this when you married him. Never had this night crossed your mind every time he touched you, sending tingles across your skin, or every time he said your name like it was the only name that mattered in the world. You were so in love, and if you are being honest, you still are no matter how much he’s betrayed you. Still, you know it’s for your own good that you move on, but can you?

“Are you in pain?”

Your head snaps up at the voice of a stranger. Before you stands a sophisticated man dressed in a handsome tuxedo. You know who he is. The whole town knows who he is.

“Do you want to forget it all?”

“Mommy! Guess what?”

“Yes, Love?” you smile tiredly as you thank the babysitter for her time. She’s too busy looking after the fifteen other children running around at the park to notice, and you immediately feel bad for putting your child under such poor supervision, but it is all you can afford.

“I got a new toy today!” Proudly, she shows you a brand new stuffed sheep.

An eyebrow shoots up. “That’s g-great! Where’d you get that?” you ask, hoping there was a charity giveaway at pre-school or something.

“It was from Mr. H!”

“Mr. H?” you repeat, feeling more and more worried.

“Yep! He had a funny hat and gave me this and some snacks,” she smiles.

“Now, now, Nayeon, what did we say about talking to strangers?” you warn.

“But he’s not a stranger, Mommy! You receive papers from him too, don’t you?”

You flinch at this. It is true that you’ve been receiving random checks from a person by that alias for a while now. Since you fear that it is some sort of a Ponzi scheme, you’ve been ignoring them. Now he is after your daughter too? You wonder if you’ve gotten involved with the mafia or worse. You hold your child to your chest as you cast a look at the distracted babysitter. Maybe it’ll be worth spending a little more on daycare. Your lunch isn’t that important anyway.

“Ah, you’ve learned to read well, haven’t you, Love?”

“Yes, Mommy!” she beams proudly.

“Still, I don’t want you near people like that, okay?”

“But--”

You give her your best ‘listen to you mother’ look and she quiets down.

“Okay…”

“There’s my good girl.”

You take her hand as you walk home, but you can’t help but notice how happy she looks clutching onto her new stuffed animal. You had never been able to get her too many things before, let alone something so new and made clearly of the softest, finest materials. Who is this Mr. H and what possibly does he have to gain from a broke single mother and her daughter? The unease keeps you tossing and turning all night as thoughts of his malicious intentions flood your mind.

A week later, you will your tired legs up the brick steps of the new daycare center. You have to be quick, for your next shift starts in half an hour, and you still have to get your little angel home before then. Once you enter the building, Nayeon waves to you while putting away blocks with a man around your age who is wearing a colorful apron. Suddenly, your head spins.

“Hey!” he exclaims, staring at the flour stain you threw onto his apron.

You stick your tongue at him as a peal of giggles escape you.

“Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he teases.

Before you know it, he has an arm wrapped around your waist while the other hand smears your face with flour. You squeal as you try in vain to escape him.

“No fair! You’re so much stronger!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, releasing you to walk to a cupboard. “But we’re adding scotch to these cookies.

“You’re always drinking,” you scold.

“Hey, what’s college for if not for alcohol and all-nighters?”

“Whatever, H--”

You blink before the weird vision of yourself finishes her sentence. You must be tired from all those graveyard shifts. Looking back at the man, you decide that he must be one of the volunteers by his apron.

You wave back with your best smile and go to the front desk to pay for your daughter’s stay.

“For L/N Nayeon,” you tell the receptionist.

She types a few things in and looks at you confused. “Nayeon, right? N-A-Y-E-O-N?”

“That’s right.” You lean over the counter, confused as to what can be wrong.

“It says in our system that you’ve already paid for this month, Ms. L/N. Did you want to pay in advance for the next one?”

“No, I didn’t, but what do you mean I already paid? I barely got my paycheck yesterday.”

“For L/N Nayeon?” another worker pokes in. “It wasn’t you who paid, Ms. L/N, but your boyfriend.”

“My what?”

“Is he not?” she gasps. “I’m so sorry! I just assumed since he paid for everything and even volunteered to play with the kids!”

She points to the play area where your daughter is in only to find just kids. “Huh, that’s weird. He was here a minute ago.”

You feel a tug on your shirt and look down to see Nayeon staring back at you. You immediately lean down to pick her up.

“Was there someone playing with you earlier?” you ask her.

She nods happily. “Yeah! It was Mr. H!”

Your heart drops at that name. “Nayeon--”

“But it’s okay cause Auntie said so!”

The worker looks at you guiltily. “I thought he was your boyfriend,” she repeats.

“Fine,” you frown. “Can we check the name on his card from when he paid at least?”

The one at the computer shakes her head sadly. “It says it was a cash transaction.”

“Maybe this will help!” interrupts Nayeon, holding an envelope to your face.

“What’s this?”

She answers, “He told me to give this to my mommy, so that’s you!”

You take the envelope and glance at the clock on the wall. You don’t have much time to keep squabbling about this mysterious man. The workers apologize profusely for their negligence and promise to find what they can about Mr. H. You thank them for their time and take Nayeon home hastily.

That night, as Nayeon lays sound asleep on your shared bed, you take out the envelope from earlier. You can’t tell if the shaking of your hands is from the tension of the unknown or from washing dishes for the past four hours.

“Dear L/N Y/N,” the letter reads. “I’m sure I have caused you some concern by involving myself in parts of your life lately, and I apologize sincerely for this. However, I would like to assure you that I mean no harm in my actions. I have merely heard of your and sweet Nayeon’s situation and would like to help however I can. If you do not wish that I be near your daughter, I completely understand, but please let me continue being a patron of Nayeon’s upbringing; her angelic charms and sweet smile have taken my heart completely. I’m sure you understand. To show my sincerity, I have included a new lunch card with this letter. It should be loaded with enough to last her the entire year, snacks included. I hope that you will consider my offer. Yours truly, Mr. H.”

Patron? If these past few years have taught you anything, it is that there is no free lunch in this world. You look at Nayeon then back at the letter. Nayeon, letter. Nayeon, letter. Nayeon, lunch card.

You’d be lying if you said you can go without his gift; one of your greatest guilts is imagining your daughter sitting alone on the swings while the rest of her class indulges in frozen fruit bars or chocolate graham crackers. Are you perhaps being too paranoid about this whole situation? No, this is seriously too good to be true.

You turn the letter over and scribble your own message on its back before putting it into the envelope. You will have Nayeon deliver it to him.

For a year your only communication with this man is through Nayeon and the daycare center whenever he comes in to pay her fees. Your first reply back was a simple “Who are you?” to which he replies:

“Dear L/N Y/N, I apologize for my need to conceal my identity. While I do not wish to deceive you by providing a false identity, I also wish to protect my real one. Just pretend I am no more than a passing wind. I hope you understand this; the last thing I would want is for you to feel indebted to me. More importantly, how are you? Being a single mother must be tough. I offer my sincerest condolences about your struggles. I hope I can free you from at least a few shifts throughout the week so that you might find time for yourself. Nayeon is doing great at this daycare. She is learning to add very well, but I am sure you already know this. I hope you both are well. Until next time, Mr. H.”

Over the months, you grow more and more fond of Mr. H. You don’t even grow anxious anymore when opening his letters. Instead, you find yourself looking forward to them. Admittedly, although ashamedly, you have grown to depend on his support; just the other day, you even ordered soda with your lunch. Nayeon looks happy about him too. You’ve let him associate with her at the daycare again, and she looks extra jubilant on the days he visits.

After those twelve months, you find yourself standing among other parents as the graduating class of kindergarteners walk across the stage. You’ve taken an entire day off just to spend it with your little girl, and you cannot be more pleased with your decision as she bounces towards you in a yellow gown, diploma in her hand and smile on her face.

“Mommy! You came!” she squeals.

“Of course I did! I wouldn’t miss your graduation for the world!” You scoop her up into your arms. “Did you see me when you walked on stage?”

“I did! And--” She stops as her eyes widen upon seeing someone behind your shoulder. “Mr. H!”

You whip around at that name, trying to see whom she was pointing to. You’re met with a tall man who quickly tips his hat over his face.

He isn’t quick enough to stop you from noticing how familiar he looks though, and definitely not quick enough to hide his resemblance to Nayeon. He tries walking away, but you stop him.

“Hey!” you call, hurrying after him. “Stop! Please stop.”

He hesitates, but finally does as you request, standing with his head down and faced away from you.

“I just wanted to thank you,” you gasp, a little breathless from the chase. “For everything. At least let me offer you tea or something at my place.”

“Your place?” he finally says after a moment.

“Yes. To celebrate Nayeon. I bought cookies for the occasion too. My apartment isn’t too far from here. Please come over to have some.”

As if he were an antique wind-up doll, he stiffly turns towards you. “Would you say that even if you knew who I am?”

“What do you mean? Of course I would; it’s the least I can do,” you chuckle, trying to see under his hat.

Slowly, he lifts up his chin so that you can see his tear-filled eyes.

“Y/N…” he breathes as if finding a long lost lover.

You are stricken by a strange sense of familiarity once you see his face, but you can’t quite remember where you’ve seen him before.

“Yes?” you decide to answer plainly.

He furrows his brows. “D-do you not remember me?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Should I?”

His eyes widen at your straight forward confession. “N-no, I must have mistaken you for someone else too. I apologize.”

“Well, um, it’s great to finally meet you. Tea then?” you suggest awkwardly.

He nods and you walk towards your destination, leaving him staring at your back in awe.

At your apartment, you grab two jars of tea leaves from the cupboard. You turn to him and ask, “Would you like green tea or--”

The cupboards are thrown open. Broken glass litter the floor. In the corner, a man sits on the ground with his head in his hands.

“Honey?” you call out. “Honey, you alright?”

“What do you think?” he hisses.

“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s called getting out of my face!”

You withdraw your steps. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“Well you’re just being a pain.”

You crouch before him, deciding to be the bigger person. “If you change your mind, just know that I’m here for you and I love y--”

Before you can finish, his body lurches forward and projectile vomits all over your shoes.

“Are you alright?”

You blink twice, bringing Mr. H back into focus.

“Yes,” you say through a forced smile.

He walks over to you with a worried frown and feels your forehead with his hand. Unaccustomed to the sudden proximity, you take a step back and clear your throat.

“I um, might actually have some wine somewhere if you’d prefer that.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, embarrassedly rubbing his palms together. “And I don’t drink anymore. Green tea sounds lovely, if you don’t mind.”

You nod, ignoring the heat rising to your face, and put a kettle on the stove.

You collapse onto Mr. H as he rubs circles into your skin to help you feel better.

“Your stupid boss again?” he whispers.

You nod, careful not to make any noise that would wake up your daughter. She and her third grade class have their first ever state exam tomorrow, and you are determined to help her do well.

“Thanks for being here,” you sigh.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do,” he murmurs into your hair.

“No, the truth is, you don’t have to do any of this, yet here you are.”

He pauses at this, lips pressing into a fine line.

“Mr. H?”

He looks down at you and once again, you are stricken by a sense of familiarity.

“Do you really not remember who I am?” he asks.

You want to shake your head, but your attention is already somewhere else, somewhere much more inviting.

You watch his lips move as he repeats your name and feel yourself leaning closer as your eyes start to close. You see him giving up on the question as he mirrors your actions. You can’t remember the last time you felt so blissful wrapped up in someone’s arms like you belong there and nowhere else.

However, as soon as your lips touch, he pulls away hurriedly and jumps off the couch.

“I-I’m sorry!” you stammer.

“No!” he says too angrily. “I mean, don’t be; it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

“I should have read the signs. I should have known you don’t feel the same,” you continue, tears threatening.

He hurries back to you upon seeing your state. “No, no, you’re wrong, Y/N. I love you more than anything.”

His sudden confession surprises you. “But that ring…” You look at the wedding band he has on a chain around his neck every time you see him.

“Oh, this? It’s… it’s for someone I lost long ago.”

You let out a noise of understanding. “I’m sorry if I undermined your memory of her.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then why did you pull away? Do I-- Do I repulse you?”

“Don’t you dare think that!” he scolds. “If anything, it’s me who’s repulsive.”

“What do you mean?”

He drops his gaze. “They did a really good job, didn’t they?”

“Mr. H, wha--”

“Three years I have spent looking for you, and five more I spent in your and Nayeon’s presences-- company which I do not deserve-- yet I have been so selfish, so unwilling to let it all go.”

“What are you--”

“But I can’t lie to you any more, Y/N. Not when I’ve spent all these years doing so.”

“Mr. H, please. You’re confusing me even more.”

“Levanter Inc,” he says suddenly.

“The memory erasing firm?” you frown. “What about them?”

He finally lifts his eyes to meet yours. “Are you sure you want to know the truth?”

“If that’s what’s keeping us apart, then yes,” you answer determinedly.

He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I just want you to know, that if you want nothing to do with me anymore after learning it, I completely understand.”

“Mr. H…”

“You know that’s not my name.”

“Then what is it?”

He swallows a knot and reaches a hand towards yours. You let him take it and he slips a cold object onto your finger. It’s a wedding band, you realize. One that matches with his.

He twists it over to show you an engraving on the side. “Read it,” he tells you. “Read it and you’ll have the answers to everything.”

You cast him one final look before vocalizing the string of characters that encrowns your finger like it has been there your whole life.

And then the memories came flooding back.

You are hollow as you stare at the stick in your hands. You are supposed to be happy. At least, your sister was when she told you the news while wrapped up in her husband’s arms. Your best friend was too when she called you while her husband’s smooches sounded over the phone, so why aren’t you?

You let out a sigh as you drop it into a zip lock along with all the other tests that all read the same results. You look at the clock. It reads half past midnight, meaning it will be at least another two hours before your own husband arrives. You guess you can go to bed first like you do every night, but you know the discovery you just made is going to keep you restless. Instead, you keep busy by cleaning every spot of the house to distract yourself from the emptiness inside you.

Truth is, you know why you aren’t happy about the news. You know why you haven’t been happy in general for a while now. Last month’s attempt to rekindle that flame with your husband had failed and resulted in the predicament you are in now.

Perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing though; perhaps this is the push you needed, you realize as you wipe down the last of the kitchen counter. It’s a little past three now. You sit by the dining table with a glass of milk, facing the door waiting for the only person who can pass through it while fidgeting with your engagement ring. A half hour later, he stumbles past the threshold as drunk as he usually is.

“Y/N?” he grunts. “Why are you still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

His tie is missing and he reeks of substances you can’t even name.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

He lets out a fed up exhale and turns to you. “Look, I work hard at my job every day and am exhausted. I don’t have time for this.”

You’re calm as you ask, “But you have time for this, right?” You pull out a bottle of whiskey and slam it on the table.

“So what if I do?” he snaps back. “I need something to distract me from what’s waiting for me at home!”

“I’m your wife,” you remind him bitterly.

“No, you’re just a regret.”

Instinctively, your hand flies up to your belly. Is this a regret too? It must be, you realize.

“What’s that?” he demands, spotting your bag of used tests on the coffee table.

“Nothing!” you insist, running to it first and hiding it behind your back.

“Give it,” he growls to which you shake your head.

“Give it!” he screams again.

When you don’t listen, he raises his palm and pierces the room with a clear smack as it connects with your face. As it does, the bag flies from your hands and he dives to catch it. You stare at him, scared senseless as an unreadable expression crosses his face as he realizes what is in his hands. Even the pain on your cheek can’t compare to the one in your heart as it slams itself against your rib cage.

Finally, when he looks up with stunned eyes, you snap out of your trance and slip your wedding ring off your finger. You press the metal into his palm and curl his clammy fingers around it.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, fighting back tears. “I know this is the last thing you wanted-- with me, at least-- but I know I can’t raise my child in this environment either. I hope you’re happier without us. I hope that you can keep your promise the next time you give someone this…”

With that, you turn on your heels and march out the front door.

“No wait, Y/N!” he cries after you, sounding completely sober now.

His height advantage lets him catch up to you in no time. He grabs your wrist to turn you around but immediately drops it when he sees the fire in your eyes.

With finality, you state, “Good bye, Hyunjin.”

~ ad.gold

A/N: Thank you for your request and support! I’m sorry I couldn’t do your first request. I’ve actually never seen a Studio Ghibli film cause I’m a petty never-have-i-ever player and that one always gets everyone AHAHAHA. I hope you enjoyed what I have here! ~ad.gold

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #request #eternal sunshine of the spotless mind #skz fic #stray kids fic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #hyunjin fic #hyunjin angst #fem reader #20200815

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ravs6709 · 3 years

Text

These Feelings Inside (How Deep Do They Go)

Chapter 2- A Broken Heart

Read on ao3.

Masterlist. Previous. Next.

Woo, chapter 2 of the fic for the @kotlc2021collab! Fun fact, like all of this chapter was supposed to happen in the first one, but I got carried away with the prologue (which I do like)

Anyways, this is a mermaid (siren) au, so its about time we meet a siren. I've mentioned last time that this was inspired by Siren's Lament. I didn't use those lyrics as the siren song, and instead made my own (with very loose inspiration from SL's version)

And uh... I did record myself singing it, and made a post for it. If you want to listen to it, you can go here! (I'll put a link at the end too)

Warnings I guess? Uh, Sophie goes through a whole panic section at the end. And then the siren lures her and it's indirectly said that she falls off a cliff/whatever and into the water and starts drifting off. Idk how to label that but yeah

Anyways, enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Sometimes, I'm still surprised you keep them," Biana said, gesturing to the various flowers that were in the corner of Sophie's room. "I mean, if you ever want him to look at you differently, you're going to have to make a move. You know that, right?"

Even without saying a name, Sophie knew that she was referring to Fitz. It took a long time until she'd admitted the crush to Biana, who had already known. She always liked keeping the flowers that Fitz gave her, and would keep them for as long as possible. They might not be what she wanted, but she still appreciated the fact that he even gifted the flowers to her in the first place.

"It's not like I've kept them all," Sophie pointed out.

She ignored the fact that the ones that she had thrown away were too old to be kept.

Unfortunately, Biana knew that. "If they didn't wilt so easily, you'd be keeping them all. But you ignored my question. You know that you'll have to make a move, right?"

"Biana, he gave me a yellow rose first. He's the one who made his feelings clear first. What am I supposed to say? Oh yeah, I've had a crush on you for like eight years now, and I never mentioned it before because you've been giving me signs that you clearly see me as a friend? Is that what you want me to tell him?"

Biana shrugged. "When you say it like that…"

"Even if saying that did work, it's not like I'd be able to actually say it. My brain just runs non-stop but then the moment I make eye contact everything just stops."

"Sophie, when has he not been understanding of you?"

That was true. A lot of people didn't take the effort to try and understand Sophie, but Fitz did. The way he was so respectful- despite the fact that it should have been basic decency- was one of the numerous reasons why Sophie loved him.

"I know he'll be understanding, but that's just going to make things even more awkward."

"I guess. Should we go down now?"

"Sure."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Oh, Fitz, you're here! What are you doing?" Sophie asked.

While he did come over often, he was usually busy on Thursdays, which was why Sophie was surprised to see him.

"I'm free this time, so I figured that I'd drop by," he explained.

She liked that he was around for the visit. Working at the shop wasn't boring, but it was more entertaining when she had someone to pass the time with.

He walked closer to her, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Also," he whispered. "I'm making sure that plans for tonight go well."

She glanced at Biana for a moment, who was on her phone. Sophie whispered back. "Your house or mine? I think yours would probably be better."

"What's the movie for tonight? That movie Biana said that she wanted to watch?"

"That's the plan."

"I don't get why you two always get secretive about the birthday movie night," Biana said.

Both Sophie and Fitz spun towards her, and it turned out that she still wasn't looking up from her phone.

"We've been doing this for years ."

"It's the birthday spirit we're trying to achieve, and you know that!" Fitz defended.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The couches at Everglen were really comfortable. It was even more comfortable to be sitting with her friends. The birthday person was often the one who sat in the center, and Sophie smiled as Biana wrapped an arm around her. Occasionally Dex would join them, but he wasn't available this time.

The movie was playing, but they were only somewhat paying attention to what was going on. Sophie paid more attention to the clock, which showed 11:58 p.m. Just two minutes away from midnight, or Biana's birthday. She counted down the seconds, until it was finally time.

"Happy birthday!" she cheered.

"Happy birthday!" Fitz repeated.

"Thanks, both of you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"You'll be fine, right?" Sophie asked.

"Sophie, it's just one day," Edaline said, exasperated. "You don't have to feel bad about taking a day off."

"Tell us how the game goes!" Grady added.

Biana's university team had managed to make it to the finals for volleyball, so Sophie and Fitz planned to go support her. But it also meant that neither of them would be at the shop.

"You'll text me if you need help though, right?"

"Yes, we'll text you. You can leave, it looks like Fitz is waiting for you." Edaline pointed to the entrance, where Fitz was indeed standing.

"Bye mom, bye dad!" she said, before kissing them both on the cheek.

Fitz took her hand as they walked to the car. She concentrated so hard on trying to stop herself from blushing that she didn't realize when they stopped walking.

She'd been pining after Fitz for around eight years, and her feelings had gotten easier to work with. Most of the time, at least. But during the times like this, those feelings that she suppressed would fight to be released. He was casually affectionate, which was great (sometimes she found it hard to initiate the contact, no matter how much she wanted it), but it constantly did things to her heart.

Each time it happened, she had to remind herself that no , he wasn't flirting with her or acting out of romantic interest. That was just how he was.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, let go of his hand, then went in the car. It was silent on the way there, but she needed that silence in order to prepare herself. She took out her headphones once they were almost there.

"Sophie?" Fitz called out.

She responded with a hum.

"You know how it is. If it gets too loud, squeeze my arm."

She hummed again.

Then they arrived, and made their way to the seats. Biana was brilliant on the court, and she seemed to be doing even better than usual. By the end of the game, the cheering got loud, but not bad enough that it hurt. Biana's team had won by a decent amount.

"Congrats, Biana!" Fitz cheered once it was over and they met up.

"It feels unbelievable, because that was the finals? I can't believe we just won!"

"I knew you could do it," Sophie stated.

"I mean yeah, but the other uni was also really good! Guess it wasn't their day, huh?"

"It was definitely your day though," Fitz replied.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hate the fact that horns exist," Fitz groaned.

"What, so you like being hit by blue shells?" Sophie asked.

"Obviously not! But I like hitting you with them!"

"If you're able to get blue shells, it's clear that you aren't good at the game!"

It was game night again, and they were playing the newest version of Mario Kart, a game that was nostalgic to them. They were sitting in Sophie's room this time. Biana wasn't there, as she was busy studying with Dex.

"Look, if you aren't second place all the CPUs are there and you aren't safe," he retorted.

"Then just don't be third place? It's not that hard?"

Somehow, he managed to actually do that, and was quickly approaching her kart. It was the end of the final lap, and he passed her. But she got a red shell, shot him right before the finish line, then won first place.

"Excuse me?" he shouted. "Why do you get the red shells?"

She turned towards him with a smirk, only to be startled by the proximity. All she could see were those teal eyes, and the snarky reply she had planned to make was now forgotten. His eyes were wide, and he seemed to barely be breathing. It felt like time had frozen.

Could she take the risk and close the gap between them?

Should I?

Before she could make up her mind, he turned away, and he even moved slightly further away.

He's keeping his distance…

The realization was a hard blow to her, because that wasn't something he had ever done before. Was he that bothered by it?

"I thought you were good at the game," Fitz teased.

But unless Sophie was imagining it, his tone wasn't as lighthearted as it usually was. She tried to channel the frustration and use it to focus on the game, but she was doing worse. Ninth place. She hadn't scored so low in a while.

"Looks like that was the last game," he pointed out. "I'll head home now."

"Bye, Fitz."

She winced at her voice, because she was doing a terrible job at pretending that she was okay. Once she was sure that he left, she buried her face in her hands and just sat there. What was going on? Was Fitz mad at her? That would be the only reason why he would distance himself like that.

But why? Did she do something wrong? If she knew, she'd try and set things right. But what was she supposed to do?

Even though her room was large, she felt restricted. Too small, too hot, too suffocating. She couldn't breathe.

Her actions after that were a blur. She'd grabbed a sweater and went outside. She walked aimlessly along a path. The area seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't tell where she was.

The wind was cool against her face, the only thing that kept her remotely aware of her surroundings. There may have even been rain too.

Breathe. You need to breathe .

The voice sounded strangely like Fitz's, and it reminded her of when she had a panic attack and Fitz was there to help her. But he wasn't here this time. Was he going to start avoiding her? What about Biana? Did she have a problem with her too? W-

There was a hum, loud and melodic. She looked around for the source.

'Oh you, with that broken heart.'

"Who's there?"

'You, whose life's falling apart.'

Almost as if against her will, her mind replayed the moment of Fitz turning away from her. The rain fell harder, making it harder to see anything except her own imagination.

'Have you come here to the sea,

To drown in your memories?'

If Fitz and Biana were going to distance themselves, what was she going to do? Ten years worth of memories, were they just going to be tossed aside?

'The weight of them is too strong,

Crushing you, it's all so wrong.'

Different memories kept emerging. Her first meeting with Biana. Her first meeting with Fitz. Exchanging flowers with Fitz. Weren't the worst memories the ones that started off good? They were the ones that had you soaring, until you're being dragged towards the ground.

'May the waves wash all the tears,

That you've gathered through the years.'

Sophie knew that she could show her emotions around her friends, but she hated doing it. She had a tendency to suppress her sadness and tears and right now felt like a good time to just let it out.

Very distantly, she could feel herself walking towards the source of the singing.

'But what if there was a way,

To make the pain go away?'

Was that a thing? She hated doubting her friends, it hurt so much. But if she could just not worry, wouldn't that be better? Wouldn't that ease so much of her pain?

'To leave behind your sorrows,

Enter a new tomorrow.'

If tomorrow could come and ease away all of her pain, shouldn't she take that chance? Her foot caught against the ground, and now she was tumbling forward, and fell into the water.

'I have an offer for you,

You can start your life anew.'

The fall was by no means something that snapped her out of her daze, but Sophie found herself slightly more aware. Starting your life anew? Did she want that? Did she want to leave behind the people she loved?

Wasn't that what she worried Fitz was doing? Throwing their love away?

Sophie thought of the memories that they'd shared. It hurt, but they were the best memories that Sophie had. Would it ever be worth it to throw away all those good times just to abandon a potentially bad one?

I want my life , she told herself. I'm happiest with them. But… it's hard.

'You can escape the abyss.'

The voice was so much louder now, and she tried to move away, but her body wouldn't move.

'All I ask is for one kiss.'

She couldn't see, and she could vaguely feel a pair of lips press against her own. She was just drifting, in both her thoughts and the sea. She kept drifting until she could no longer feel anything.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You can find the song here!

Kotlc taglist- @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Just let me know!

#sophie foster #fitz vacker #biana vacker #sokeefitz (eventually)#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #fanfiction #ravi writes a thing #these feelings inside (how deep do they go)

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 126: OWLs

Frank landed as uncomfortably as ever, with no clue what he was fixing to crash into as he went sliding along the floor and his nose was a hair width away from entering a very odd looking object.

They were all surrounded by beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling lights. As his eyes became accustomed to the brilliant glare, he saw clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the light was the towering crystal bell jar that stood right in front of him.

It appeared to be full of billowing, glittering wind, and even as he watched a tiny, jewel-bright egg rose in the jar, cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top, but as it fell on the draught its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg, and the loop continued.

Alice came up beside him and took his hand, helping him to his feet and guiding him carefully away. He did not protest, nobody spoke a word in the room.

The ticking was vaguely terrifying for some reason, the dark shadowed corners were of no comfort to anyone as the Marauders were just as lost in here as everyone else had been in the forest. Frank spotted the book leaning on a glass cabinet full of odd, miniature hourglass-looking necklaces.

"Don't touch!"

Frank startled and dropped his hand before he grabbed the book, only to look around and see it had been Pettigrew scolding Regulus Black. His fingers were still half-extended towards a coo-coo clock that was spinning 360 degrees in all directions for no good reason.

He dropped his hand, looking thoroughly chastised even as his eyes roved hungerly around, but Frank was a tad terrified to look at anything too long, the magic radiating from this place felt as powerful as the book he gingerly picked up as if new all over again. He realized why as he weighed it for a moment and truly felt the magic in the air, it all gave off the same sort of energy. Time magic.

"Nobody touch anything," Potter's voice agreed with absolute sternness. "Merlin knows what half this shite is, and I am not looking forward to being a dad so much I'll cart around one of you lot as an infant."

"The most sensitive thing I've ever heard you say," Lily told him.

Frank fought very hard not to laugh at the stunned look on his face as he went looking for his chapter. A collective groan went up from the present fifth-years, but he tried to tell them all, "look at it this way, it's almost cheating. You'll be getting some firsthand account of what to study, more than I ever got. Can't wait for Harry's seventh year for that."

Lily at least looked delighted at this point of view, but the Marauders still grumbled their distaste at having to hear a whole chapter over Harry's OWLs and moved even farther away.

It started with Ron still captivating attention over Gryffindor's win though, and Harry and Hermione weren't trying very hard to pull him back from that with news of Hagrid's 'small' giant of half-brother. Sirius had been in such a state he'd read right over a game victory and not even realized it. 'It's not like I care,' he kept reminding himself as he stalked off to the farthest corner. 'One less thing to worry about, they don't care about you anymore just like you wanted! No makeup required, problem solved!'

He was still staying well out of the way, leaning dangerously against a steaming purple cauldron. Merlin what he would give to go off somewhere with Remus and pretend this wasn't going on right now, but he wouldn't have dared even if they weren't in such a highly strange and potentially dangerous place. He needed to talk to James about why he kept doing that, he knew that now, though he and Remus hadn't exactly gotten to talking about it recently, and it had been Moony's idea to hide it in the first place.

James and Remus both came over slowly anyways, though he didn't notice until they were right in front of him, too busy glaring at absolutely nothing.

"I told you not to touch anything," Prongs sighed, frowning as he sat on the lip.

"You're touching the floor," Sirius shot back.

James made sure to look him dead in the eye as he drew his wand and tapped himself with it, and was now hovering a few inches above the ground. Sirius couldn't help it, he chuckled and got off, hands raised in surrender.

"I'm fine," he insisted as they kept frowning at him like he was mad enough to dunk his head in that thing, let alone actually mess with anything around here. "I don't care, honestly, good on Pete finally growing some and telling us to shut up."

Remus's mouth actually opened in surprise while James rolled his eyes in disagreement. Peter and Sirius obviously still needed to have a conversation they were avoiding, and he had no clue why Peter lost his temper when Sirius had tried! At least Padfoot wasn't flying into a temper and starting a fight with them in retaliation. This new, passive, approach felt alien in comparison though. It was what they'd asked for, right?

Sirius really was trying though, rather than giving those two a piece of his mind about constantly wandering off and being annoyed with him for trying to join in, he forced himself instead to nod along and feel sympathy for Ron as he was let into the news of Grawp the giant. Some part of him even did mean it, he honestly respected Peter just a tad more now than he ever had before, finally standing up to anyone in his life. He just wished it hadn't been him, about Regulus!

Whatever his little brother's problem was before though, Peter seemed to have helped. He'd always been best at that, listening to them, just sitting patiently and hearing them out, giving practical advice that never felt too insulting for not getting there on your own. James had a tendency to just talk at you and refuse to relent until you laughed which helped soothe most of Sirius's problems, and Remus was great about giving space. Sirius...never helped with anyone's problems. He usually was the problem! He huffed miserably and ran a hand through his hair as he really felt the guilt dancing along his every thought and tried valiantly to push it all away and focus on the story.

Prongs began doing exactly that now as he saw this, going over in detail and ever increasing unrealistic proportions of each of Ron's spectacular saves they hadn't been privy to in hopes to get a laugh out of Sirius. He watched Remus wander off and give him his space, and tried to tell himself this was good, this was normal.

Alice was distracted from watching a handsome wristwatch spinning backwards by Frank's voice getting an uneasy tone for Griselda Marchbanks, an examiner, being mentioned, and didn't understand why until Neville explained his gran knew her.

She grimaced with distaste with more reason than ever and tried not to let the memory of that photo creep back across her mind at a time like this, instead turning to Lily and asking, "I would never, but I am curious, if we used one of those time-turners, think that would get us back to when we started?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Lily sadly said as she turned away from a sundial with the phases of the moon etched along the edges back to her. "You're right too, best we don't try, tampering with time magic is worrisome enough, let alone trying to mix it." She was eyeing that cauldron in the corner with heavy curiosity but refusing to allow herself to go investigate it; Potter and his friends were around.

Regulus was still drifting off by himself, hands firmly in his pockets now, but with a look of almost childlike wonderance for his surroundings. Peter watched bemusedly as he was also clearly still taking in every word of Harry's exams, the Charms one now being described in detail. He was surprised to see Remus disengaging from James and Sirius to come over, watching Regulus with a bizarre expression. He supposed, if you hadn't been paying attention to him, it was very far off from the usual stoic way he kept himself at most times.

Peter tried to tell himself Remus was the least likely to tell him off for how he'd dealt with Sirius, but he still couldn't help but get a bit defensive as that seemed exactly what he was about to do when he sidled up and scuffed his foot for a moment, building himself up to say something Peter wasn't sure he wanted to hear. "Regulus is going through something, and Sirius has shitty timing!" He tried to say calmly, but he was failing a bit by the end. "I notice you and James keep telling me to be patient with him! I wonder if you two are over there with the same old tosh to Sirius, oh he'll come around! Padfoot can't control his temper, let Peter whine it out!"

"Actually," Remus managed through gritted teeth, "he's been trying to work on that!"

"Oh," Peter said quietly in surprise, instantly mollified.

Remus breathed through his nose for a moment, unclenching his teeth so he could continue, "yeah, he's really trying Wormtail, but he's got it in his head you two don't want anything to do with him now."

"How's that my fault?" Peter tried not to snap back. "He ignores me unless he wants something, been doing that to Regulus his whole life! We're not all just here for his entertainment!" He wasn't quite shouting, but his voice still sounded sharper than he meant to.

"Just," Remus pressed his face into his hands, rubbing at his tired eyes before looking back at him in exhaustion. "Nobody wants a fight, right? Can't we all agree on that? He's trying Peter, I still hope you are too. And Regulus," he added after only a moment of thought as he watched him again.

"Yeah," he quietly agreed. "Regulus still cares what he thinks too," he added. He'd never come out and said it, but Peter could tell in the same way he still watched his big brother.

Remus sighed in relief that was at least a good start, now eyeing the gap between the lot and trying to figure out whether to call Sirius and James over here or get Peter to go over there, it was like a never ending tug of war with those two lately.

Regulus answered the problem for him, he'd circled the whole room by now and was right beside them without even seeming to realize it, nose dangerously close to the potion as he watched it bubble.

Sirius reached over and grabbed the back of his robes, pulling him back and tutting. Both of them moved over on instinct, but he'd already let go and said with only pure exasperation, "where's all this curiosity come from then?"

Regulus blushed rather than answer, he looked chastised when Sirius had only sounded curious himself for his brother's sporadic change in his usual tight-faced character.

Peter eagerly jumped in, "he's actually been asking me loads, that's a lot of what we've been talking about, he's quite curious about the world."

"Oh," Sirius looked genuinely impressed, he'd really never thought he'd even progressed past questioning his parents, let alone asking for more than they'd ever offered in their 'lessons.' What else had he missed?

They all almost missed whatever was going on with Umbridge and Hagrid, but quickly spun back to Frank as his voice began edging with concern.

"No," Lily started chanting under her breath in disbelief. "No, no, no, no!" Hagrid was the nicest person in that school, offering a friendly ear and a cup of tea to any students he came across on the grounds, like a lonely girl crying to herself in the shade of the Forest. How was it possible Umbridge could force him from the school like this?

Then McGonagall got involved, and she felt like screaming. She began backing away from Frank and shaking her head, trying not to even hear of this disaster, she heard the gasp and looked on instinct to see Potter with his wand in hand and a look of outrage on his face for their head of house being attacked like that. Alice caught her before she could back into that strange hourglass, and they held hands fighting back their own galloping fear for the state this school was in.

Professors Flitwick and Sprout, at least, were still trusted members of staff to turn to, but the slowly dwindling numbers had them fearing Umbridge would somehow manage to get rid of them before the exams even finished!

Frank found it hard to believe Harry was forced to just go off to his last exam like nothing had happened after that, he felt like the chapter should have ended with that kind of mess, what else could happen during Harry's exam? He shifted and muttered impatiently the whole way through the History of Magic questions, it was one of his better subjects and even he'd been grateful to drop it, he couldn't concentrate on a single thing Harry was forcing himself to recall in his sleep-addled mind.

Then Harry started dreaming again, except they were never just dreams, they never had been. No, Harry started seeing again, right into You-Know-Who's mind as he finally got past all the doors that had been blocking him all year, and into an entirely new room all together, one that terrifyingly sounded similar to this place. He read the next description as this place was bypassed with dread as Harry began to explore and Frank tried to convince himself not to throw the book away in fear Harry was about to come across a dead body, that they weren't headed to this cathedral-sized room and row ninety-seven next to find out whose fate would be gone.

You-Know-Who was right there, right on the other side of one of these doors. It wasn't some random bystander like Bode though, it was a member of the Order again. It was Sirius Black.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #HP #reading the books #OotP #Marauders #wolfstar #JIlly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom

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