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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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streamer dreamer. | k.bakugou. ʚ !! ɞ

❧ ; SYNOPSIS. after joining a twitch stream hosted by his celebrity crush— professional and number one fanboy, katsuki bakugou's plans for writing a smut fic about her, end up getting a little out of hand.

❧ ; cpu characters. katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

❧ ; word count. 2K

❧ ; genre + rating. fanboy!au, celebrity!au, college!au, smut, 18+, minors do not interact !!

❧ ; game warnings. - proceed with caution !! characters are in their twenties, reader is shorter than bakugou, smut, cum tributes, sex dreams, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, male!masturbation, oral sex fem!recieving, degredation!kink, breeding!kink, dacryphilia!kink, size!kink.

❧ ; streamer commentary. hey cuties!! today i bring you another comm of mine from the lovely @angusmoko, thank you so much <3 i miss writing for bkg :(! thanks to @cellotonins for beta reading !! enjoy <3 m.list. + tip jar.

NEW TWEET from @yndreamsOfficial: streaming tonight!!! we’re going to be playing a bunch of horror games this time around, make sure to join me on twitch at…

the notification had bakugou rushing home from class in a flash, desperate not to miss out on you going live and rejecting an opportunity to hang out with classmates...yet again. kirishima’s words rattle around in the blonde’s skull ‘he’s dying to go home and watch his little girlfriend again tonight. he’s not gonna come.’ as he takes out his laptop before throwing his backpack down by the door and rolling into bed, pulling up your twitch url along with your twitter and tabs for writing the latest fic he had been working on.

bakugou had been a fan of yours since the day your band, dreamers, had first debuted about two years ago. he’d been there when your fandom was small and your group of y2k-esque music artists were completely underground— the blonde remembers scraping by for group content, finding crumbs left by other fans on social media until you were rocket launched into fame thanks to one hit single.

out of all members in dreamers, you were definitely his favourite— you were always the most down to earth in interviews, interacted with fans as best as you could ( like you were now with your twitch streams during promotional cool off periods ), you even followed him back and he had almost all of your merch. so it was only natural that the blonde fanboy took to writing fanfiction about you on tumblr and ao3, running a regularly posting fan account for you on twitter too.

he has another, private and hornier account too, with cum tributes posted in your honour.

but only bakugou needs to know about that one.

NEW TWEET FROM @yndreamsOfficial: stream starts now! we’ll be doing a listening party of my bands new album too @DreamersOfficial <3

@dynamightdr: can’t wait to see you. @yndreamsOfficial

bakugou tweets out, vermillion eyes searching through the trending tweets mentioning your name as your twitch stream loads up on one of his tabs. his heart skips a beat when you like his tweet before starting.

“hey guys! welcome, welcome! i missed you...is everything working?”

your voice filters through bakugou’s dorm room, providing the spark of inspiration he needs for the exposition in his fic. the words fly onto the google doc as you speak and greet your viewers, blab on about upcoming music and tour dates— get into playing the game and the blonde can’t help but stare, taking in your excited expression, the way you tug on your lip as you concentrate on not fucking up your quest.

you’re so beautiful, so perfect and the image of you bleeds into katsuki’s brain and consumes his thoughts whole— helping him get on with the small smut drabble he’d intended to write. ‘ah, fuck!’ you whine at a sudden jumpscare you encounter, the sound pulling the fanboy’s attention right back to your stream. it’s probably more lustful than you intended...but the innocence and airiness to the sound shoots straight to bakugou’s cock...the smut he has planned doing nothing to help either. “if any of you clip this, my managers are gonna kill me. my band mates will never let me live this down!”

shifting away from the tab he’s writing on, bakugou desperately searches the twitch chat to see if anyone’s clipped the sound of you whining— thanking the stars when he finds it, replaying the heavenly sound you let out as his cock throbs beneath his sweats, eyes fluttering shut as he imagines you making that sound for him. pictures: you whining in his laps before the clothes come off, your skirt hiked up over your fleshy ass and cotton panties grinding against katsuki’s soft grey pants— leaving a darker spot on his bulge, wet and sweet just like your gasping whines.

the thought has katsuki hot all over his body, burning underneath his skin while your voice from the stream echoes in his mind— turning up the volume of lust filling him.

“fuck, you guys...don’t do that!” you complain, plump lip between your teeth while your stream teases you and katsuki’s fingers grasp at the material of his shirt— stuffing it into his mouth while the rest take the trek down his carved, washboard abs and into his underwear, grasping at his thick girth as it springs to life. blonde lashes hit his cheeks with a soft whimper, katsuki squeezing the base of his cock as the pre drops against his knuckles and shame pricks at those very same cheeks for jerking off to the sound of you. “you’re so mean! what…? you like the sound of me crying?”

katsuki definitely fucking does, jamming his thumb into his tip that bleeds arousal— spreading it across his angry and bright red tip. he wants to make you cry, fuck that... he’d love to make you cry. if he had you the way he wanted, you’d be sobbing before katsuki even had a chance to sink into your pretty little pussy, rough fingers drawing circles on your clit to make you cum at least twice before he bullies his way into your insides— rubbing your slit up and down, pinching between your thighs and fucking just the tip...just the tip into your hole struggling to take him.

“you think i’m pretty when i cry too?”

the blonde’s hand is slick, coated in his milky precum that helps him guide his hand up and down his throbbing dick smoothly and wetly— it makes him shake, thighs trembling and chest heaving. “y’so pretty baby...love it when you cry f’me.” he says as if he’s talking to you, words heavy on his tongue as they get lost of the saliva building up there. “cry f’me to fuck you hard, till yer creamin’ cummin’ all over me—shit!” his voice, always so gruff and timbre cracks at the end as bakugou fucks up into his wet fist. his brain is foggy, covered in a hazy sheet of desire thinking about finally dropping you down on his length, filling you to the brim and leaking white against your ribbed insides while your nails tear through his skin until blood is gathered underneath them and red marks are stricken down his back.

you’d keen into his touch, dainty fingers running through sweaty blonde locks as you tug bakugou’s hot mouth onto your chest— moan for him as he sucks your pebbled nipple into it while his strawberry tongue rolls desperately over the flesh. he bets you’re as soft as you look, like peach in his hands— juicy like one too. dreaming of you is like taking a bite into forbidden fruit and now his mind is running with the thought of getting a taste of what’s between your strong thighs.

would you wrap them around his head if he ate you? cunt gushing against katsuki’s tongue as he dips it into your sweet hole, slurping the nectar from your puffy folds— every gasp you let out over stream fuels his dirty thoughts, his palm around his fat cock pressing down hard on the forked vein on the underside… imagining it to be you spasming around him, whether it be a pair of his fingers searching for your gummy g-spot or his shaft plunging deep inside of your warmth, soaking him in your essence and all that is you.

“fuck...i love you,” you giggle at something a fan of yours says over stream. it’s such a pretty sound. i love you. and katsuki knows it’s meant for the fans that you adore but all he can think about is how you’d wail it to him, how much you love him and how much you love how the precious blonde fucks you until you can see the shape of his cock in your tummy and his finger prints are marking the insides of your doughy thighs.

“y’love me baby? f-fuck! yeah you do…” he stutters out, squelching sounds overlapping with the audio of your stream— bakugou’s fist slap loudly with the weight of his balls heavy with cum, drooling thick arousal everywhere and anywhere. you’re making him a mess and you’re not even with him, you have him in a tight grip— skin flushed red, shirt soaked through with sweat and the cotton of his actual sweatpants completely stained and darkened with precum. “y’love me… you love me s’much. shit baby, yer gonna let me cum, right? g’nna let me fill that p-pussy up with all my cum..”

bakugou chants at the screen while you play your games, looking so sweet and innocent over the screen. he knows that he’d taint you, ruin you— you wouldn’t even be able to take all of the cum that katsuki bakugou has for you. there’s too much of it, too much pressure in his lower stomach and he’d fuck so much of his seed into you that your stomach would swell and you’d squirm beneath him to stop. fuck, the way your hips would run away from him because of his size, because you can’t take any more and your face is hot with those beautiful tears you have— katsuki knows your height, shorter than him, easy enough to break. his thick girth would have your hole stretching over his tip alone, choking him out for the better and for that, he’d have to breed you.

make you take it, make you take all of him.

no condom with all the warmth of your cunt, the slick arousal running down your thighs as he pounds you.

all of these thoughts are near enough to kill a man, drag katsuki bakugou under a pool of lust and drown him. the way he jerks himself off is fast paced and lazy, palm of his hand running smooth circles over his cockhead over and over until he’s warranted himself useless— body slumped in his bed, sweat dripping down his back and nothing but you and his lewd moans and dripping cock filling his ears while blood rushes through.

he’s losing his mind, losing himself to pleasure.

“y’my pretty whore, you’re gonna take all my fucking cum.” he manages, eyes locked onto the screen as you say your timid goodbyes to the stream, telling everyone you love them and you’ll see them soon and bakugou can’t help but imagining you underneath him with shaky, shy i love you’s pouring from between your kiss-swollen lips as you finally cum for him— all over him, like a fountain of euphoria.

when his laptop screen goes black, the damn breaks and the blonde cums the hardest he ever has in his entire life— thick white oozing from his tip in marvellous streams, running down his shaft at a pace faster than his shallow breaths. tears are large and bold in vermillion orbs and they fall against katsuki’s pink cheeks, his thighs quiver with every cum shot he makes, all over his hands and legs and both his hands shake as he takes a snap for his nsfw account— his usual stream of likes pouring in with flattering comments from mutuals which he doesn’t care for, only you.

a cum tribute, dedicated to you, your name in the caption.

one from your biggest fan.

the blonde’s mind is still swimming, google doc still blank as his brain, body sticky with the drying cum and sweat— bakugou doesn’t even think as he pulls up your latest tweet asking if everyone enjoyed the stream, barely double checking which Twitter account he’s on.

@dynamightnsfw: thanks for a fun night. @yndreamsOfficial

he should have double checked, for a minute later, a dm from your official account pops through— making his heart jump out of his chest and that orgasm charity shining through.

you send him his latest tweet, his golden skin covered in his own cum with your name and a thank you note in the caption.

“i guess you really enjoyed the stream, huh?” your message reads.

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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years

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unwanted feelings

james potter x reader

description - You'd had a crush on James Potter for years and when he kisses Lily Evans in front of you, you are heart broken. Later you find that he didn't actually feel as you expected and he explains himself.

warnings - some angst, unsure reader, fem pronouns, self doubt, negative self talk, not eating for a day cause reader is avoiding someone

word count - 2800

A/N - so this one isn't my best work by far but i wrote it so looks like its getting posted. i don't know why all of my reader inserts lately are so fem and sort of bubbly, i guess it's sort of what i'm aiming for for myself right now but i'm sorry if it maybe isn't coming off as relatable.

MASTERLIST

Your throat tightened in anxiety as you watched James zoom around the pitch. He was reckless when he was playing quidditch and it was one of the things that made him great at the game and an excellent captain. It was also the thing that nearly gave you a heart attack every time you watched him play. You went to every one of his games and you always wore something of his with his colors when you were in the stands. You were stood up on your seat and a slightly bored looking Remus sat to your right, reading from a book you didn't recognize. You'd thought that Sirius playing would be enough to keep him interested but sports was just not something he enjoyed watching. You were usually that way as well but whenever James was playing, suddenly you were the most intent spectator in the stands.

You were more worried than you should have been. More worried than what was appropriate for a friend to be. That's what you were, friends. That had been reinforced many times by the shaggy haired boy and you tried desperately to get it through your head before you embarrassed yourself one of these days. Sometimes though, you just couldn't help it.

Really you might have thought he reciprocated if you didn't know any better. You often got comments on what an attractive couple you guys were but each time it was quickly corrected by James. Normally along the lines of 'Oh god no, we are just friends. Purely platonic' , sometimes followed by a shudder or a gag even. It upset you every time to no end but you played along. You rarely, if ever, contributed to the shooting down of any feelings but that was never noticed by the man you had feelings for.

You'd had a crush on him since you were probably in your second year and now you were coming to the middle of your seventh. There were a million times that you almost said something but every time there was a reminder that you were not the one he had eyes for. It usually took the shape of disgust at the thought of dating you or commentary as he pined over the Evans girl who you felt you could never compete with. How could you when she was just perfect. You saw her to the left of you as she stood in the stands as well and your hands shook with insecurity before looking back toward the game. Your heart raced nearly as quickly as James did around the pitch and you prayed that the snitch would be caught soon so that you could get rid of the stress surrounding you. You felt a hand on your right shoulder and you looked over to find Remus had stood and was looking at you caringly.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" He asked softly and you tried your very best to soften your gaze and calm your stance so you appeared less concerned with someone that you shouldn't have that much interest in in the first place.

"Of course I am. When am I not?" You smiled before looking out at the pitch.

"When youre watching the guy you're in love with play a dangerous game that you don't like." He stated simply in response to the question you meant to be rhetorical and your eyes widened.

"I don't know what youre talking about." You nearly whispered and Remus smiled.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone Y/N but its not exactly subtle. It probably doesn't help that I know the look on your face because it's how I feel too watching Sirius play." He was still smirking but your anxiety was far from eased.

"Oh god, does he know?" You asked scaredly, terrified that the answer would be yes and you would have to stop spending time with him.

"Shockingly, no." You sighed out in relief but Remus continued. "You should tell him though or else he might end up moving on."

"What do you mean? There's nothing for him to move on from. Everyone knows he's in love with Evans and he has made it pretty clear that he is opposed to being anything more than a friendly relationship with me." You choked out, struggling with the words leaving your lips but knowing them to be true.

"I mean he has a minor crush on Evans but it's nothing compared to the annoyingly huge crush he has on you. He's probably just overcompensating for the fact that he's insecure and doesn't want you to reject him."

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked sincerely. You were friends with Remus as you were with the rest of the marauders but it was nothing compared to the friendship they held within their group. You knew Remus was more loyal to James than to you so you couldn't understand why, if it was true, Remus would be telling you at all.

"Because he is trying desperately to move on seeing as he is under the impression that you aren't into him and I'd hate to see him throw something away that could be really good for him." Remus smiled gently and you looked at him gratefully.

"I really appreciate you telling me and all but I just don't think I can believe you. I can't even count how many times he has made a big show of not liking me. I love him too much to ruin what we have and I know that if I confessed and it went bad that I would lose him all together. I would rather have him in my life in a way that hurts than not have him in it at all." You stated sadly and Remus sighed but nodded in understanding.

"I get it but just know that I'm being honest and pretty soon he is going to give up on it. I just want to see you both happy but if its too big of a leap, I understand. That's exactly the excuse he tells the rest of us too."

Suddenly cheers erupted from the stands, cutting your conversation with Remus off as everyone ran to rush the pitch. The snitch had been caught and gryffindor won. You were excited for James but you were also a little terrified to walk onto the pitch to see him with the now conflicted thoughts running through your head. Your thoughts were stopped by the image in front of you which was causing the whole crowd to cheer. James had pulled Lily Evans into a kiss in his excitement and your heart stopped. You felt nausea rise in your throat and Remus caught your eye with a sympathetic look. You didn't look at him for longer than a second and you ran off the pitch with tears streaming down your face. You found your way up to your dorm, pushing yourself to get there quickly before the common room filled with students celebrating their victory. James was always one to love attention so he would be getting crazy after the game which he did just about every time they won.

When you made it to your bed, you hurried under the covers, throwing the shirt you were wearing which belonged to James onto the floor. You felt your heart clench at the despair you felt. You wanted to be upset at Remus for getting your hopes up but you knew he was sincere in his want to help. Still you felt that you would probably not be able to face James in the weeks to come. Maybe, given a little time, you could be around him and not be upset at the world for taking away your chance with him. As you laid in your bed, you stared at the ceiling. You felt tears streaming down your face and you grew angry at yourself. He didn't owe you anything, he wasn't into you. That wasn't his fault and it was so unfair of you to expect anything more from him when your feelings were not his responsibility.

You weren't sure how long you laid there but you could hear the party start and end in the common room. It must have been late. Sleep wouldnt come though, you could just feel your heart continue to break and you were stuck in a loop of self pity. You made the decision that the following days would be spent away from James if you could at all help it. That was probably what he wanted anyway and it was the only way that you would get over the pain you were feeling. At some point your roomates entered your dorm and sleep overtook you for a few restless hours.

When you woke up, the sun was barely on the rise. You hurried up and got dressed and ready. You were planning on getting to breakfast early to avoid running into any of the marauders. You found your plans were not going how you wanted when you entered the great hall to find a head of red hair next to a mop of black. Your throat tightened and you quickly moved to turn and head out of the great hall. You heard a familiar voice call your name but you rushed out before you could give it too much thought. You knew that if you let him try to convince you, you would end up having a very upsetting breakfast with your best friend and his new lover. You would rather avoid breakfast.

Throughout the day, avoiding James was proving to be harder than you had thought it would be. You had many of your classes with him and you even sat next to him in a few. He was insistently trying to get you to open up about why you were suddenly so closed off to him but you remained shut off, reassuring him that nothing was wrong and you were just a little tired from the game the day before. You avoided lunch for the same reason as you had avoided breakfast and you felt yourself starting to get a bit lightheaded. Your afternoon was spent avoiding James but soon he was preoccupied with Lily anyway.

You were hid in a corner of the library when a cough alerted you of someone's presence. You looked up to find the very eyes you hadn't wanted to see.

You pushed it down with a gulp and smiled a bit at him, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay but they were growing harder to hold back after keeping everything pent up all day. It probably didn't help that you were hungry and therefor a bit more emotional. You could feel the tears sitting in your eyes, waiting for something to go wrong so they had an excuse to escape you.

"I don't know what I did wrong." He mumbled while looking at the floor in front of you and you took a deep breath.

"There's nothing wrong James, I promise. It's just been a long day." You smiled and your heart picked up speed.

"Since when did we lie to each other?" He questioned and your heart stopped. You were left unsure how to respond.

"Since the truth would cause more damage than good." You spoke honestly. At this he looked up at you and your eyes met. A tear left you and James immediately moved to comfort you but you tried to move away, standing quickly to evade him. You regretted it as spots filled your vision, the lack of food catching up to you. You know that you turned a bit green for a moment because James looked slightly scared.

"Y/N I dont know whats wrong but you look like you should be getting to the hospital wing. You don't look well."

Before you could answer you felt your vision blacken and your legs give out before your consciousness left you completely.

When you woke up, you knew you were in the hospital wing. It smelled sterile and the bed was stiff underneath you. When you started to wake madam pomfrey came to check on you.

"You can't go around with an empty stomach like that again, do you hear me?" She scolded, though her eyes were soft. You nodded solemnly. "I was alerted that you hadn't been to the great hall to eat all day, you have to know that isn't good for you. I'm gonna have a prefect watch out for you the next couple days to make sure you're eating at meal times. Understood?" She asked again and once more you nodded before leaning back and sighing. You looked at your surroundings and were surprised to see the black haired boy next to your bed fast asleep. Your heart took off again and you felt trapped by your environment. As anxiety swirled around in your chest, James had woken up a bit.

"You're awake." James sighed, laced with relief. You still wouldn't make eye contact with him. You felt the bed dip as he sat on it and you looked up to watch him put his head in his hands as he leaned over. You felt guilt fill your chest more than it already had from hating that you felt any claim over the man in front of you. You knew you were in the wrong and the last thing you wanted was to cause him any pain. "Remus talked to me." He almost whispered.

At that moment, you wished you could have apparated to anywhere else in the world. You looked back down at your lap and tears were once again brought to your eyes. You felt betrayal that Remus would reveal your feelings to James.

"I'm sorry." You apologized and you fiddled with your fingers.

"Why are you the one apologizing, I'm the one whos behaved poorly." He assures and you shake your head.

"That's not fair to yourself. You're allowed to want to be with whomever you want and my feelings should have no effect on that. You've made it clear for years that you weren't interested in me and it is my fault that I couldn't take a hint. I'm so sorry." You gushed out and tears started to fall from your eyes. You felt James get up from your bed and you prepared him to leave but instead you felt arms wrap around you and a kiss came to your head.

"Y/N I have had feelings for you for years. I was just always too scared for myself to even consider that you might feel the same." He whispered out but you felt only a different kind of pain. Even though he had now admitted his feelings, he was still dating Lily. Not you. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts he spoke quietly. "I broke it off with Evans." You pulled away immediately.

"What? Why would you do that?" You asked quickly and before he had a chance to answer you feared the worst. "Oh god is it because of me? James please dont let my feelings have any bearing on who you want to date, I can't stand the thought of being the reason you broke up. Even if we do have feelings for each other, you deserve a chance with Lily if that's what you want."

"It was mutual, actually. She understood that I had feelings for you and she said she had a crush on someone else. It just seemed like I had kissed her a bit rashly on the quidditch pitch and we agreed that we shouldn't have gotten together in the first place. It was only a day anyway." He reassured as he explained himself and you calmed a bit.

"So what does this mean." You got out, almost inaudibly.

"It means that, if you'll have me, I'd like to take you out on a date." He stated as if it were the simplest thing in the world and you almost couldn't believe your ears. Before you were even thinking you were nodding quickly, causing spots to once again fill your vision and James grabbed your shoulders to stabilize you before you both laughed. He pulled you by your shoulders toward him and he caught your lips in a kiss that somehow expressed all of the years of repressed feelings. When he pulled away he smiled at you and sat back on your bed. He spent the rest of the day with you in the hospital wing talking about all of the places he was going to take you in the coming weeks.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #hp imagine #hp x reader #the marauders #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #harry potter fluff #james potter angst #hp angst #hp fluff

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom.

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!”

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

“Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1978 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius @pan-pride-12

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becomewings · 3 years

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The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 2 / 4

« pt. 1 | » pt. 3

Introduction

JungKook’s and YoonGi’s stories are the first of the paid content in BTS Universe Story and are substantially more detailed than the episodes covered in part 1. As this led to longer summaries (4.2k and 3k), I have added “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts. This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

The Boy on the Threshold

In this story, SeokJin works to uncover the motivations behind JungKook’s nightly street wandering, instigation of fights with thugs, and decision to jump from the roof of a construction site. He was aware of the “darkness” within JungKook but never thought that he would give up on himself. SeokJin is determined to find a way to make JungKook think “I want to live” on his own.

In the afternoon on 11 April Year 22, SeokJin drives by the crosswalk outside Songju Jeil High School. Spotting a grim-faced JungKook, he gets out to greet him. JungKook visibly brightens and pelts him with question after question, finally finishing with, “But how come you’re here at school?” If the player chooses the response “I came to see you” rather than “I was in the neighborhood,” JungKook seems a little disbelieving due to the coincidental timing but nevertheless pleased. SeokJin offers him a ride, thinking that JungKook will not carry out that night’s actions from previous loops if he gets home right away. In the car, SeokJin reminisces aloud about the day they all met. On 3 March Year 19, all seven boys arrived late on the first day at Songju Jeil High School and were scolded outside by the Dean. (Aside from the absence of extra students, this scene looks very similar to the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR, including the detail of YoonGi arriving last. This VCR predates official BU content.) When the Dean spotted SeokJin in their lineup, he reduced their punishment of community service for one month to just that afternoon. After classes, the boys cleaned the annex. The old classroom-turned-storage room became their secret hideout where they enjoyed various activities like dancing, playing the piano, and spending time with one another. JungKook appears happy as they chat about their school days, although in one path, his face falls after he remembers when he and YoonGi were caught in the annex. SeokJin is concerned, but JungKook insists, “It’s nothing.”

They say goodbye outside JungKook’s house, but SeokJin watches to make sure he goes inside. JungKook hesitates before ringing the bell at the gate. His mom answers, surprised and at a loss by his unexpected arrival. She asks him to come back later because his father’s relatives stopped by, and the intercom cuts off before he can answer. (His mother remarried, so this is really his step-father and family.) SeokJin wonders if JungKook has no one to lean on at school or at home and if this is why he wanders the streets at night. He asks JungKook where he wants to go now. “The beach… the one I went to with you guys,” JungKook answers, then says he’s kidding when SeokJin hesitates, thinking about the night ahead. SeokJin invites JungKook home instead, hoping to keep an eye on him before he needs to save NamJoon at the gas station.

In his bedroom, SeokJin hastily takes down the map and notes pinned on the wall of the boys’ incidents around the city. After letting JungKook inside, he shows him a box of photos from their time together in school. While JungKook browses, a notification on SeokJin’s phone reminds him of Songho Foundation’s inaugural ceremony that evening. Songho Foundation is a scholarship foundation funded by his maternal grandmother’s estate, and his father formally introduces him on this occasion. SeokJin also receives a call from his father’s long-time aide, a man he refers to as Uncle JunHo, who instructs him not to be late to the ceremony. Claiming it won’t take him long, SeokJin asks JungKook to stay there and wait for him to return. He is worried about leaving JungKook alone but also concerned that bringing him to the gas station after the ceremony will make him late to intervening in NamJoon’s incident.

In the lobby of the hotel hosting the Songho Foundation Inauguration Ceremony, SeokJin recognizes many important faces from around the city: Song JunHo, his father’s aide; Seo HyunJung, the city’s deputy mayor; the CEO of Youngjin Engineering & Construction Company; a professor from Munhyeon University; and the Jeil High School principal, Jo JinMyung. SeokJin doesn’t want to cross paths with the principal but is drawn into a conversation with him, the mayor, and his father, Kim ChangJun. “Assemblyman! Congratulations on the launch of the scholarship foundation,” Deputy Mayor Seo says to Kim ChangJun. “I hear that your son has been accepted to Munhyeon University? You must be happy that he’s attending your alma mater.” Kim ChangJun shakes his head. “He still has a lot to learn.” She remarks that everyone knows how well SeokJin has grown up and inquires about his career plans. The player is presented with three choices: “I haven’t decided yet,” “I want to become a good person,” and “I want to become someone like my father.” SeokJin’s father continues to look grim while the others chuckle in response to the first two answers, but his expression softens at the third, which SeokJin knew would not rub him the wrong way. Deputy Mayor Seo proposes to Assemblyman Kim that they establish a regular meeting to discuss community development, mentioning that it would be better if he could invite the city’s prominent citizens and give a speech. Assemblyman Kim agrees, telling his assistant Song JunHo to make note of it. The ceremony concludes, and the guests head towards the hotel’s restaurant. SeokJin is wary of his father’s watchful gaze but impatient to carry out the rest of the night’s plans. While his father is surrounded by other people, he informs Uncle JunHo that he has to leave to work on a group project. SeokJin slips out of the hotel and heads to NamJoon’s gas station.

While SeokJin is gone, one of the photos in the box catches JungKook’s eye. It shows the seven boys sitting on a wall with the ocean behind them. (This photo resembles the shot in Euphoria at 5’32” except that they appear to be wearing school uniform shirts and slacks.) A flashback retells the afternoon of 12 June Year 19 when the boys cut school early and visited the sea, trudging over 3 kilometers under the scorching sun to find a boulder that is rumored to make your dreams come true. (The date is not specified in the game, but the memory closely follows this set of entries in The Notes 1.) Everyone collapses in disappointment when they can’t find the rock at its designated location. JungKook is tired but not as disappointed as the others—just walking there with them is enough for him, even though he often feels uncertain of his place among the group. He gets up on the pier railing, reflecting: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Balancing precariously, JungKook walks until someone grabs his arm. YoonGi scolds him not to do this. JungKook assures him that he will not fall but privately thinks: “YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

The story returns to the present in SeokJin’s perspective. He rushes back to his room after saving NamJoon and finds JungKook asleep, leaning against the bed with the photos still scattered around him. Feeling both relief and regret, SeokJin quietly coaxes JungKook to lay down and sleep more comfortably. JungKook wakes up and says he should go home after hearing that it’s past ten o’clock. The game cuts briefly to SeokJin’s father in his study with his aide. Kim ChangJun asks Song JunHo to fetch SeokJin, as he needs to know what goes on for the foundation. JunHo says that SeokJin must be entertaining a guest for the group project because he spotted an unfamiliar pair of shoes in the entryway.

Back in his bedroom, SeokJin is startled when his father knocks on the door. It’s rare for his father to visit the second floor of their home, so he let his guard down while chatting with JungKook. “F-Father.” Stammering, SeokJin flinches and gathers up the scattered photos. “Did you leave the ceremony early to waste time like this? Even lying to say you were doing a school project?” asks Kim ChangJun. His cold and reproachful stare suffocates SeokJin. When his father’s eyes scan to JungKook standing awkwardly at the side, SeokJin is plunged into a childhood memory. On 10 October Year 9, 9-year-old SeokJin hid a school friend who was being chased by scary men in his bedroom. His father arrived and asked if the boy was Mr. Choi’s son, saying people had come to take him. When Kim ChangJun ordered him to “be a good boy,” SeokJin froze and was powerless to stop his friend from being handed over. The following day, SeokJin was told his friend transferred schools. (This event is also depicted as the first entry of The Notes 1.) In the present, SeokJin struggles to think of an explanation, smothered by that memory and his father’s pressuring stare. JungKook timidly speaks up. “I was only here to visit for a short while. I was actually about to head home. Hey, I’ll go now.” SeokJin knows he can’t leave him alone yet and finally forces himself to move. “Father, I… I’m going to go out for a little while.” He runs outside, but JungKook is already gone.

The story cuts to JungKook’s perspective as he arrives in a familiar alleyway. He is thankful that SeokJin was so considerate to him but feels that he shouldn’t have gone to his home since it made things more complicated for his friend. “YoonGi even got expelled because of me… Why do I always mess things up for the people around me?” JungKook thinks. The player is presented the choice to either text SeokJin or call YoonGi. In the first path, SeokJin calls JungKook while he is mid-text and says that he’ll come pick him up, but JungKook declines, thanks him, and hangs up. In the second path, JungKook fiddles with his phone, wondering if YoonGi will be annoyed or even answer. He remembers when they crossed paths a few days earlier. On 7 April Year 22, JungKook heard a familiar tune while roaming the dark streets and saw YoonGi playing piano through a broken window of a music shop. YoonGi stopped and eventually staggered out of the shop without noticing JungKook reaching out to him. JungKook tried to play the music by memory, and suddenly YoonGi returned—just like their days at the classroom. (Note: In his 7 April Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, YoonGi is drunk and stumbling by an empty construction site when he recognizes a clumsy piano tune that he’d been playing “not long ago.” But when he runs to the music shop and finds JungKook, the text does not indicate that he remembers this is his second visit to the shop this evening. Additionally, the Wings short film First Love seems to reference some of the events of this night—or evokes YoonGi’s distorted memories of it, mingled with a representation of JungKook’s later accident.)

In the present (11 April), JungKook wonders if YoonGi is doing well. He has thought about him since their chance encounter but doesn’t have the courage to call him first. (The narrative paths rejoin here.) JungKook wonders where he should go now yet doesn’t want to think about anything. He stops in the middle of the road, and a passing car’s headlights make him dizzy. SeokJin arrives in the distance and shouts his name, but JungKook just thinks, “One more step from here. Just one more step, and everything ends.” He steps in front of the honking car. SeokJin calls him in the distance, and JungKook feels everything slip farther away. The glass shatters and the loop resets.

Awakening once more on the morning of 11 April, SeokJin vows to protect JungKook until the end. The memory of arriving too late as JungKook threw himself in front of the car reminds him of how he was also unable to protect his childhood friend when he was 9. He needs to devise a new plan, since JungKook practically ran out of the house when confronted by Kim ChangJun. The story cuts to that evening, with JungKook looking at the photo in SeokJin’s bedroom. This time, SeokJin ignores his phone’s buzzing reminder about Songho Foundation’s inaugural ceremony. He asks JungKook where he’d like to get next and, when he doesn’t have any ideas, offers him a tour of the university campus.

JungKook seems happier looking around the campus, the cherry blossoms in full bloom. SeokJin uses this opportunity to ask him if anything is on his mind and if school is going well. JungKook answers nonchalantly, but SeokJin remembers how grim he looked at the school crosswalk that afternoon. He asks if JungKook still hangs out with the other guys. “HoSeok and TaeHyung are working part-time jobs. The others… I’m not sure,” JungKook answers, expression darkening. SeokJin wonders if he shouldn’t have brought it up but still presses him. “How come? You should talk to them from time to time.” “But it’s because of me,” says JungKook. “The reason why YoonGi was expelled… It was because he was trying to protect me.”

SeokJin either responds “It’s not your fault” or “Don’t think that way.” Following the first choice, JungKook insists, “No, it’s my fault. YoonGi wouldn’t have talked back to the teacher if I wasn’t there.” SeokJin shakes his head. “No, you couldn’t really do anything given the situation.” JungKook replies that he should have at least apologized and that he never had the chance to tell YoonGi he was sorry. “That’s how you felt, huh… I should’ve done more. I’m sorry,” SeokJin apologizes. JungKook shakes his head with a smile, but SeokJin knows that he doesn’t understand what he really meant. (Per events in The Notes 1, it is technically SeokJin’s fault that the teacher found them in the classroom.) If the second dialogue choice, “Don’t think that way,” is chosen, JungKook questions, “How could I? When it was because of me.” “No…” SeokJin is not brave enough to say that he’s the one to blame. The camera (i.e. the animation) starts wobbling as though SeokJin’s vision is swimming. “SeokJin?” asks JungKook in concern. “I should’ve done more. I’m sorry.” The episode ends with the same dialogue and animation of JungKook shaking his head with a smile, except that in the second path the camera is still wobbling from SeokJin’s perspective. (This is the only episode I noted in the game that has a slight difference in endings based on the player’s final choice, although it is essentially cosmetic.)

Episode 5 opens with a more detailed memory of 11 June Year 20 from JungKook’s perspective. The high school was holding an open house for parents. Not wanting to stay in a classroom, he wandered off and heard piano music drifting from the annex. JungKook slipped into their classroom hideout and settled down to listen. YoonGi continued to play without acknowledging him. The music helped calm JungKook—it seemed as though YoonGi understood how he felt and was trying to console him. The sound cut off abruptly as the door slammed open. “You rascals! What are you doing here?!” the Dean of Students demanded. He slapped JungKook, knocking him down. A flurry of verbal abuse poured over his crumpled form. YoonGi shoved the teacher’s shoulder and stepped in front of JungKook. “Wow, look at this kid… You put your hands on a teacher? You better be prepared, Min YoonGi.” With that ominous threat, the Dean departed. JungKook spoke from the floor. “Hey, sorry for making you—” “It’s nothing,” YoonGi cut in. JungKook wondered why he helped him. It was the first time someone had protected him, and he believed that he would never forget the view of YoonGi’s back. YoonGi asked why JungKook was smiling. “I don’t know.” Still smiling, JungKook touched his throbbing cheek. YoonGi stared at him before breaking into his own smile and sitting down next to him. They sat there wordlessly for some time. The feeling of growing closer to YoonGi made JungKook feel giddy the rest of the day. But YoonGi did not come to school the following day, and two weeks later, he was formally expelled. (The encounter with the teacher and YoonGi’s subsequent expulsion are also referenced in JungKook and YoonGi’s 25 June Year 20 entries in The Notes 1.)

In a brief interlude in the present (11 April at the university campus), SeokJin reflects again that he does not have the courage to confess to JungKook the real reason why they drifted apart. He walks with his eyes trained on the ground until JungKook calls for him to look at the cherry blossoms floating in the wind. The scene cuts to 30 September Year 20 for another of JungKook’s school memories. He stood outside the school’s annex, reflecting that his friends probably didn’t know that he went there every day. Although school was a place he found awkward and unfamiliar, their hideout was a space for him that put him at ease. On that day however, only HoSeok was inside the classroom, gathering up the items they’d left behind. JungKook realized that the time they spent together was now a memory and would never return again. (This is also an entry in The Notes 1.) Back in the present, SeokJin notices that JungKook looks grim once more and tries to improve his mood by asking if they should go to the beach. JungKook privately wonders: “Do you think YoonGi would go? And no one knows what’s going on with JiMin. Will we really be able to go together like we did then?” Holding up his pink camera, SeokJin says they should take a picture to commemorate the evening. They’re both smiling in the photo, and he hopes that they’ll all smile together again one day. After their campus tour, SeokJin walks JungKook home, ignoring the many calls he receives from his father’s assistant JunHo.

At the crosswalk outside the high school the next day (12 April), SeokJin reflects that staying with JungKook instead of attending the inauguration ceremony seemed like a good choice. He prevented JungKook from jumping off the building and stopped NamJoon’s incident too. But SeokJin wants to keep an eye on JungKook for a few days. While he’s waiting, the principal Jo JinMyung approaches and greets him, asking what brings him to the school. SeokJin tries to excuse himself, but the principal brings up the ceremony. “I thought you’d be there, but you weren’t. Did something happen? Why weren’t you there?” Caught off guard, SeokJin either answers vaguely (“I had something important to do”) or honestly (“A friend had an emergency and I couldn’t attend”). JungKook joins them slowly during the exchange, and the principal seems a little suspicious regardless of the player’s choice. In the “honest” path, he adds, “Next time, think about what's truly important before acting.” The paths rejoin when the principal smiles pointedly and mentions that he should call the Assemblyman soon. SeokJin wonders if Jo JinMyung intends to tell his father that he was with JungKook. Kim ChangJun did not approve of the time SeokJin spent with his friends even in school. “Father thinks it’s useless to have human relationships that don’t help you succeed.” When he and JungKook are in his car, SeokJin notices that the principal ominously watches them pull away.

Later that day, SeokJin meets with his father in his office. Kim ChangJun looks exhausted. Though they’re similar heights, to his son he seems like a massive grey wall. “Why didn’t you attend the inauguration ceremony yesterday?” he asks. SeokJin either lies (“A professor asked me to do something last minute”) or answers honestly (“A friend had an emergency and I couldn’t attend”). The ultimate result is the same: Kim ChangJun speaks after a long moment of silence. “The one thing I want from you is for you to be a good son.” “Yes,” says SeokJin. “I don’t think it’s a difficult task. You may leave.” As he exits, SeokJin hears him call Song JunHo and worries that his flimsy excuse will fall apart. Running into the principal may have made matters worse too. Despite his uneasiness, SeokJin has no choice but to keep going and trust that everything will work out. While NamJoon and JungKook are safe for now, he wonders if he can be a person for JungKook to lean on for comfort whenever he needs it so that he will not resort to such an extreme decision again.

SeokJin visits JungKook after school every afternoon the following days. On 15 April, JungKook asks if it’s okay for him to come like this every day. SeokJin assures him, “Yeah. I come to see you because I want to.” He observes that JungKook still seems to take social cues from him rather than acting comfortably, so he encourages him to either pick what they do next or where they should go eat. On 19 April, however, JungKook does not appear at the school gates. SeokJin tries calling him, only to learn that the number isn’t in service. Someone shouts his name, and HoSeok emerges from the Twostar Burger across from the school. “I had heard you were back, but I didn’t think I’d see you here in front of the school.” HoSeok digs a piece of paper out of his pocket, explaining that JungKook stopped by earlier. “He said he’s switching schools.” SeokJin asks where, but HoSeok doesn’t know. This has never happened before in a loop, and SeokJin wonders if he caused it. HoSeok hands over the paper, which JungKook requested be given to SeokJin. It’s a drawing of the cherry blossom tree they saw together, with a thank you note written at the bottom. SeokJin hopes that his suspicions aren’t correct.

Hunting for clues to JungKook’s whereabouts, SeokJin visits Jeil High School’s administrative office the next day (20 April). He receives slightly more information if he acts like he knows the Director of Administration, but as the student records are confidential, the man only reveals that JungKook transferred to a boarding school. On 30 April, SeokJin is summoned to his father’s office. Kim ChangJun asks him to sit down and continues speaking with his aide, Song JunHo. He confirms an upcoming appointment with the Deputy Mayor before asking, “Oh, did you take care of that incident?” “Yes. Do you mean the one concerning the Jeil High student?” JunHo responds. “I’ve taken care of the issue with the student.” Heart racing, SeokJin realizes that his father was behind JungKook’s transfer and deliberately let it slip as a warning to him. On their way out, Uncle JunHo adds, “SeokJin. You do know how difficult it was because you didn’t attend the inauguration, right?” SeokJin promises that he’ll be at the next meeting. Back in his bedroom, he decides that he made the wrong choice in this loop. He wanted to be someone JungKook could always come to, but instead he pushed him farther away. HoSeok calls him at that moment. Voice wavering, he relays that JungKook has disappeared. Some of his classmates stopped by the restaurant that day, inquiring if anyone talks to him often.

The story cuts back to 25 April with JungKook in class at his new school. His mom likes the dormitory here, and he suspects that she feels more comfortable without him at home. School, home, the dorms—he doesn’t belong in any of those places. While pairing up the students, the teacher notices that they have an odd number now and asks JungKook where he wants to go. He closes his eyes and remembers a voice: “JungKook, let’s all go to the ocean.” He thinks, “I want to go…” The scene jumps to JungKook walking towards the ocean shore. The glass shatters.

SeokJin opens his eyes on the morning of 11 April. He wonders what caused the loop to reset and assumes something must have happened to JungKook after he transferred schools. Again, he could not keep his promise of getting them all to the ocean. The episode ends with SeokJin sitting atop the seaside observatory at sunset. (This is a key location on 22 May Year 22, recurring in The Notes and depicted in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film and Euphoria MV. It looks the same in the game.) SeokJin ruminates on what may have happened to JungKook and where events started going wrong. He thought he could be the person JungKook needed to lean on, but he failed. This arc concludes with him wondering: “Was my method wrong? Or is it not supposed to be me? Maybe… If the person who’s supposed to console JungKook’s scars and be there for him isn’t me… Then, who can save JungKook?”

The End of His Gaze

SeokJin’s main challenge in saving YoonGi is the unpredictability of his actions between loops. The opening of this story is no different. On 2 May Year 22, SeokJin chases YoonGi after he leaves his workroom with a heavy bag but loses sight of him in the streets. As soon as he picks the nearest motel, black smoke pours from one of its windows. (The sign matches the motel in YoonGi’s scenes of the I Need U MV.) YoonGi ignores the commotion outside the room’s locked door. Once again, SeokJin is too late, and the glass shatters, resetting the loop.

Waking in his bedroom on 11 April, SeokJin considers how YoonGi backs himself into a corner no matter how or when he tries to intervene. It’s different from the incident with NamJoon because no outside person or situation is involved. SeokJin realizes that if YoonGi’s struggle and variables that make his decision so unpredictable are within him, then the only way he can stop YoonGi is by truly understanding him. He takes out his old camcorder from high school, hoping its footage may reveal some clues. In the first video clip he plays, YoonGi is off in the corner of their classroom hideout drawing music staves but speaks up to tell HoSeok and TaeHyung not to play a prank on JiMin. SeokJin wonders if YoonGi still writes music and remembers the piano in his workroom. In the second video, TaeHyung quibbles with NamJoon, who is tired yet refuses to take a nap until YoonGi pushes some desks together and tells him to lie down. SeokJin focuses on YoonGi for the rest of the video, but he is either motionless or off camera. He finds a similar challenge within his photographs: he has less than ten solo photos of YoonGi, and though his face is visible in group pictures, he is never looking at the camera. Still perusing the photos, SeokJin overhears voices from the camcorder. “It being here is a secret. Okay?” TaeHyung whispers to YoonGi. “What’s a secret?” SeokJin in the recording asks. TaeHyung and YoonGi, standing by the piano, both whip around. TaeHyung dismisses it as nothing and shushes YoonGi when he asks, “Why are you hiding something like that?” In the present, SeokJin wonders what they hid in the classroom and decides that it’s worth investigating in case it can help him save YoonGi.

On 15 April, SeokJin visits their old classroom hideout at Jeil High School, which is still being used as a storage room. The player can choose from a total of four locations to explore, provided they select the piano last. SeokJin identifies his father’s name alongside the message “Everything started from here” on the graffitied wall (he first saw this note in his 25 June Year 19 entry from The Notes 1). Even after thoroughly examining the piano, he does not find YoonGi and TaeHyung’s secret or anything else useful. Uneasy at leaving YoonGi alone for so long, SeokJin leaves the school and parks in front of his friend’s workroom. YoonGi appears to be safely inside, so SeokJin browses through the old video files on his camcorder and finds one that continued recording after he thought he had pressed the stop button. Listening to his and YoonGi’s voices, he recalls a forgotten memory of the day they walked out of school together.

The majority of episode 3 plays through a memory of an afternoon that SeokJin and YoonGi walked out of school together (date unspecified; this event is also referenced in YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry from The Notes 2 and the similar Note accompanying Map of the Soul: 7). SeokJin receives a text summoning him to the principal’s office. The office is empty yet suffocating when he arrives. Principal Jo JinMyung arrives and apologizes for making SeokJin wait. SeokJin looks down, heart suddenly heavy. The scene cuts to YoonGi entering the storage classroom as he thinks about all the days he doesn’t feel like going home. It’s not a comfortable place for him, yet there’s nothing for him at the school either, except for the group’s hideout. He feels awkward in the oddly quiet room and puts some sheet music on the piano’s rack. But when he thinks about how no one is there requesting songs from him, he can’t bring his hands up to the keys. The flashback transitions back to SeokJin’s perspective following his meeting with the principal. As expected, the principal wanted him to report on YoonGi’s behavior. SeokJin spoke carefully so as not to tip him off about anything, but he hears internal whispers calling himself a hypocrite even when he’s laughing with his friends. Fretting over how much longer he can protect YoonGi, SeokJin runs into him at the classroom hideout’s door. He hopes YoonGi doesn’t notice how flustered he is, but YoonGi doesn’t say anything beyond confirming that he’s heading home. SeokJin tries to strike up a conversation as they walk out together, but the conversation awkwardly fizzles out whether he brings up food or the weather. YoonGi points out that his phone is buzzing, and SeokJin’s camcorder falls from his bag as he looks for it. YoonGi waves him off when SeokJin films him to test that it still works. He sheepishly lowers the camcorder and forgets to turn it off. YoonGi breaks the uncomfortable silence when they are almost across the field. “Is something up? You didn’t look very happy earlier.” Heart pounding, SeokJin tries to laugh off this sharp question with an excuse, but YoonGi stares straight at him. “You’re awkward too, SeokJin.” “What is?” “Your laugh.” YoonGi pauses before continuing, “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?”

The scene fades back to the present in SeokJin’s car (15 April). He can’t make out the rest of their conversation in the recording or remember what he answered. He wonders why YoonGi asked him that. SeokJin was always tense then, afraid that his friends would learn of his meetings with the principal. Did the others notice, too? While he’s lost in these thoughts, someone outside shouts, “Fire!” Flames erupt from YoonGi’s workroom. Realizing he should have focused on YoonGi and not the video, SeokJin runs into the building. As he tries to open the locked door, he hears the glass shatter.

The fourth episode opens on the night of 11 April with SeokJin watching JungKook and YoonGi walk away from the construction site and towards NamJoon’s container. A few days later, SeokJin spots JungKook on the sidewalk on his way to YoonGi’s workroom. When asked where he’s going, JungKook avoids his gaze and replies, “I was just… walking around.” SeokJin knows this is because he has nowhere to go. Not wanting JungKook to keep wandering and remembering that he was once close with YoonGi, SeokJin invites him along. The perspective switches to JungKook as they enter the workroom. It reeks of alcohol, and YoonGi is fast asleep among empty bottles. “YoonGi… will be okay, right?” he asks. SeokJin picks up the bottles without responding. A memory from their school days occurs to JungKook. TaeHyung chased him around their classroom hideout, trying to snatch his sketchbook and succeeding when JungKook found his escape unintentionally blocked by YoonGi standing in the doorway. JungKook was dismayed when YoonGi called TaeHyung over to the piano so they could look at it together, but then YoonGi deceived TaeHyung and threw the sketchbook to JungKook. In the present, SeokJin doesn’t want to waste time while YoonGi sleeps. He taps a lost-in-thought JungKook on the shoulder and says they should leave, but JungKook responds that he will stay until YoonGi wakes.

Back again at the classroom hideout, SeokJin hunts further around the piano. He uses an old mop handle to fish out a piece of paper from underneath it. The hidden secret turns out to be TaeHyung’s abysmal math test. Dejected, SeokJin slumps to the floor. On this level, he notices a small handle on the piano’s lower panel and uses it to pop off the cover. Faded music sheets are wedged into the piano’s frame. A phrase on one of them catches SeokJin’s eye. (함께 라면 웃을 수 있다 : The Korean is not translated in game, but Google translates it as “if we are together, we can laugh.” This recurring phrase is instead translated as “we can laugh when we’re together” in The Notes 2. In YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry, he also reflects on finding the note written in the margins of the music scores he took from the classroom. The handwriting isn’t his own. Additionally, a similar sentiment is expressed in a line of You Never Walk Alone, which is the basis for one of the BU-inspired Graphic Lyrics books.)

This message reminds SeokJin of YoonGi’s question: “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?” “This moment is the answer to that question,” he thinks, initiating a flashback to 20 March Year 19. The boys gathered around HoSeok in the classroom, chattering excitedly about the new club he’s leading. TaeHyung jokingly called him “Mr. President.” HoSeok told him only members could call him that before asking YoonGi if he wanted to join. “I’ll allow you to join without an audition, but only you.” TaeHyung exclaimed that he was just trying to get YoonGi to call him president. “Oh, it was obvious?” HoSeok chuckled. “Acting up again, huh?” YoonGi spoke up from the corner. The memory fades, returning to a pensieve SeokJin. He clearly remembers YoonGi’s face as he laughed with the others. “When did we stop laughing? Did it start that day, when I ruined everything?” SeokJin wonders. “It’s my fault,” he says aloud, standing there with the sheet music in hand until the sun begins to set. (Note: the date of the memory may be a typo. On 20 March Year 20 in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard SeokJin in the classroom informing the principal of the trouble he and YoonGi had gotten into. SeokJin realized that NamJoon heard it but not TaeHyung, who remained hidden out of sight and then pretended not to know. It’s not impossible that this memory really occurred in March Year 19, but most of them had only met at the beginning of that month.)

On the night of 15 April, SeokJin follows YoonGi at a distance from his workroom to an alleyway bar. (It is possible but not entirely clear that this is the same day SeokJin found the sheet music at the classroom, which is why I did not specify the date earlier.) It appears that YoonGi visits this bar often since the owner asks him if he has money today. SeokJin sits at a table behind YoonGi and watches him knock back shot after shot. Deciding that he shouldn’t leave him alone any longer, SeokJin musters up the courage to join him. YoonGi doesn’t look surprised to see him. He smiles before looking down again. SeokJin attempts a natural conversation to catch up. YoonGi asks why he didn’t come along the night when everyone got together at NamJoon’s container. “It’s been awhile since we’ve all seen each other, and JungKook… Never mind. You were probably busy.” SeokJin apologizes and inquires how JungKook is doing, then turns the same question on YoonGi when he replies that he doesn’t know. “Anything new with you?” SeokJin presses when YoonGi avoids his gaze. “Well, as you can see.” YoonGi dodges a direct answer.

The restaurant owner brings them a second glass. They are quiet in a restaurant full of chatter. SeokJin brings up the past to break the awkward silence, asking if YoonGi remembers the day they walked out of high school together. “Why do you ask?” says YoonGi. SeokJin explains that he remembered what YoonGi said to him that afternoon. “I want to ask you the same thing you asked me then.” SeokJin is nervous but continues, not wanting to waste this opportunity. “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?” YoonGi is silent for a moment. “Who knows.” SeokJin encourages him to think about it. “What good is it whether I remember or not? It wouldn’t change things now, even if I remembered.” YoonGi’s refusal to express his feelings upsets SeokJin more than his indifferent tone. “I just wish he would open up to me so I could figure out… anything. If only I could tell him,” SeokJin thinks. His internal narration continues over a shot of him in high school looking at his phone: “Or maybe… If I went back further in time, mustering up the courage to protect my friends, and prevented YoonGi from being expelled. If I did, maybe now we’d be…” “What’s with that expression?” YoonGi’s voice snaps him into the present, and he stares at SeokJin the way he had when they walked home from school. “Nothing, just… I feel like it’s been a while since I last saw you and I’m wasting time with useless subjects. It’s nothing—” SeokJin tries to laugh it off, but YoonGi interrupts. “You’re the same as always… There’s something there in your expression, but you say that it’s nothing.” This remark hits hard, rendering SeokJin speechless.

YoonGi’s words echo in SeokJin’s head even after he arrives home later that night. How did YoonGi notice what SeokJin thought he kept well-hidden? He once viewed YoonGi as someone who was indifferent to the world and trying to distance himself from everything. It dawns on SeokJin that he is mistaken. He opens his camcorder, hoping to see something new with this changed perspective. A recording plays in which he, YoonGi, and JungKook are the only ones present in the classroom hideout. When YoonGi starts playing piano, JungKook gets up from the desk and carefully stands by him. YoonGi doesn’t seem bothered and continues to play. Suddenly, he stops. “You wanna try?” In the present, SeokJin wonders why he asks JungKook that out of the blue and replays the footage, feeling like he missed something. This time, he notices that JungKook begins chewing his nails before YoonGi asks him. “Can I?” says JungKook. “Why not? It’s not my piano or anything. You can play if you want to.” At YoonGi’s words, the color returns to JungKook’s face and his hands drop from his mouth. SeokJin watches a little more of the video. As the recorded YoonGi patiently corrects JungKook’s wrong notes, he realizes that YoonGi doesn’t merely ask JungKook to play on a whim but out of respect for him.

SeokJin turns his attention to his box of photos. The player can choose up to three to examine. SeokJin realizes that YoonGi is a little further behind the group and not looking at the camera not because he feels left out or is avoiding attention, but because he is always watching how they are all together. YoonGi knows us very well, he thinks. He stopped JungKook from biting his nails by asking him to play the piano rather than acknowledging it directly. He saw through SeokJin and recognized when his laughter wasn’t genuine, even after several years apart. SeokJin thought that YoonGi wanted to give up everything, would never open up to anyone, and experienced feelings that were impossible for him to understand. “But if we were the ones to make YoonGi laugh… It may be possible to save YoonGi,” SeokJin reflects. With more determination, he vows to save him. “I’ll save him no matter what, because we can laugh when we’re together.”

SeokJin visits YoonGi every day after their meeting at the bar, responding that he’s making time to see him when asked if all university students have this much free time. They grow more accustomed to each other’s company, but SeokJin’s glimmer of hope fades as alcohol and aimless wandering continues to fill YoonGi’s life. Since just visiting YoonGi’s workroom seems meaningless, on 24 April SeokJin decides to show him the sheet music he found in the hideout, hoping it will encourage him to resume songwriting. Upon seeing the music, YoonGi has a flashback to 25 June Year 20, the day he received the school expulsion notice. He ran immediately to the classroom and played the piano as though possessed. The anger refused to settle. He shoved all of his sheet music into the piano and vowed to never play the piano again. In the present, YoonGi asks, “Where’d you find this?” At his cold expression, SeokJin wonders what he’s done wrong and explains aloud that he just happened to find it in the hideout’s piano. The papers fall from YoonGi’s hand, scattering across the floor. “Leave,” he spits. “What? Min YoonGi, what’s going on?” SeokJin asks. YoonGi shoves him. “Just leave.” “Don’t do this, let’s talk for a moment,” SeokJin tries again. But YoonGi replies, “I have nothing to say to you.”

YoonGi avoids him after that. On 25 April, SeokJin calls him numerous times without any answer and finds only torn sheet music and empty bottles in his workroom. He remembers YoonGi’s last words to him and says aloud, “It can’t be. No way.” An ominous thought crosses his mind, but he forces it out to focus on recalling something from memory. The story cuts to him running down a street, trying to figure out where YoonGi went to set the fire in the last loop. (It is never clarified what SeokJin’s “ominous thought” is—it may refer to YoonGi setting a fire or possibly even a suspicion that YoonGi figured out SeokJin was involved in his expulsion.) SeokJin finds the same motel (the one with the sign like in the I Need U MV) and rushes upstairs in a cold sweat. Faced with a hallway of identical doors, he doesn’t know how to locate YoonGi’s room. Whether the player chooses for him to call out to YoonGi or “think of something else” (which results in him pulling the fire alarm), the result is ultimately the same. SeokJin forces open the last closed door with a fire extinguisher, but the room is empty. Filled with regret, SeokJin wonders what he has done wrong. “Like an idiot, I… I knew that the location and method of YoonGi’s attempt could change, and yet…”

“Fire!” someone yells. The motel across the street erupts in flames. “No! Please…” SeokJin begs, falling to his knees. “How can I stop this tragedy? … Am I not enough to stop it?” The story ends as he hears the glass shatter once again.

Additional Thoughts

For me, JungKook’s arc really draws back the curtain on SeokJin’s private life. It demonstrates SeokJin’s challenge to balance saving his friends and maintaining his own daily life, particularly fulfilling the duties that fall to him as a prominent assemblyman’s son. We see little of this side of him until The Notes 2, when his perspective has already drastically changed.

JungKook’s reflection about his habit of walking along the edges of walls is an interesting moment of self-awareness. This “tightrope-walking” is depicted frequently in the MVs.

The car accident and loop reset at the beginning of JungKook’s 4th episode suggests the possibility that the I Need U MV depicts JungKook deliberately stepping in front of the oncoming car rather than accidentally. (Maybe people have already interpreted it this way, but personally the thought had never occured to me due to how it’s shot and acted.) The car accident is a recurring theme in the loops for JungKook, particularly as he is struck the night of 22 May and comes to believe that it was SeokJin who hit him.

This internal dialogue of SeokJin’s from YoonGi’s arc gives me a lot to think about: “If I went back further in time, mustering up the courage to protect my friends, and prevented YoonGi from being expelled. If I did, maybe now we’d be…” SeokJin’s first experiences of the time loops are depicted in the Save Me Webtoon. At that time, he believes that 11 April is the date that he can begin fixing things, but it’s not clear if this ability granted by the cat-like creature truly gives him control over to which date the loop resets. (It is more obvious that he cannot control what triggers the reset itself.) Does he ever go back earlier? Only *ahem* time will tell, but if you want some more food for thought, please check out these interesting quotes that occur before 11 April Year 22.

As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.

The Boy on the Threshold — tl;dr commentary

SeokJin’s flashback to 3 March Year 19, when all seven boys arrived late on the first day at Songju Jeil High School and were scolded outside by the Dean, looks very similar to the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR (aside from the absence of extra students), including the detail of YoonGi arriving last. This VCR predates official BU content.

The photo in SeokJin’s collection that catches JungKook’s eye resembles the shot in the Euphoria MV at 5’32” (the seven boys sitting on a wall with the ocean behind them) except that they appear to be wearing school uniform shirts and slacks.

JungKook’s flashback to the night of 7 April Year 22 expands the context of his reunion with YoonGi, adding that he is drawn to the music shop by a familiar tune and through its broken window sees YoonGi playing piano. YoonGi doesn’t notice him when he staggers outside, and JungKook tries to play the music by memory. In his 7 April Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, YoonGi is drunk and stumbling by an empty construction site when he recognizes a clumsy piano tune that he’d been playing “not long ago.” But when he runs to the music shop and finds JungKook, the text does not indicate that he remembers this is his second visit to the shop this evening. Additionally, the Wings short film First Love seems to reference some of the events of this night—or evokes YoonGi’s distorted memories of it, mingled with a representation of JungKook’s later accident.

I mentioned in part 1’s introduction that every episode’s ending is identical regardless of the decisions made by the player, but the end of episode 4 is actually cosmetically different (a wobbling camera/animation effect) if the second path is selected for the last choice. The dialogue is the same.

The end of episode 7 depicts the seaside observatory. This is a key location on 22 May Year 22, recurring in The Notes and depicted in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film and Euphoria MV. It looks the same in the game.

The End of His Gaze — tl;dr commentary

The motel sign at the beginning and end of the story matches the one visible in YoonGi’s shots of the I Need U MV.

When searching the classroom hideout for clues on 15 April, SeokJin identifies his father's name alongside the message “Everything started from here” on the graffitied wall. He first saw this note in his 25 June Year 19 entry from The Notes 1.

Episode 3 presents a memory from both SeokJin’s and YoonGi’s perspectives of the afternoon that they walked out of school together. Although the date is unspecified, this event is also referenced in YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry from The Notes 2 and the similar Note accompanying Map of the Soul: 7.

On his second attempt at searching the classroom, SeokJin finds sheet music that was hidden inside the piano. A phrase written in the corner of one paper catches his eye: 함께 라면 웃을 수 있다. The Korean is not translated in game, but Google translates it as “if we are together, we can laugh.” This recurring phrase is instead translated as “we can laugh when we’re together” in The Notes 2. In YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry, he also reflects on finding the note written in the margins of the music scores he took from the classroom. The handwriting isn’t his own. Additionally, a similar sentiment is expressed in a line of You Never Walk Alone, which is the basis for one of the BU-inspired Graphic Lyrics books.

SeokJin has a flashback of 20 March Year 19 in which the boys are excitedly chattering about HoSeok’s new club. However, given the larger context of this moment (both in the past and what prompts it in the present), the date of the memory may be a typo. On 20 March Year 20 in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard SeokJin in the classroom informing the principal of the trouble he and YoonGi had gotten into. SeokJin realized that NamJoon heard it but not TaeHyung, who remained hidden out of sight and then pretended not to know. It’s not impossible that this memory really occurred in March Year 19, but most of them had only met at the beginning of that month.

Did you learn anything new from these stories that I did not specifically mention? Let me know in the replies or tags! Please stay tuned for part 3, featuring JiMin and HoSeok’s stories.

#armiesnet #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #armysource #dailybangtan #bts universe #hyyh #bangtan universe #bts universe story #bts universe story highlights #seokjin #jungkook #yoongi #jinkook #yoonkook #yoonjin #bts theories

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myelocin · 3 years

Text

tomato sauce for hello, and mornings for i love you

synopsis: “you are the who, love is the what, and this is the why.”

genre: fluff | wc: 2,300+

characters: konoha akinori

this is why i need you | jesse ruben

a/n: HALLOW??? HALLOWWW?????? @gg9183 MY ANGEL MY LOVE HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO U we will ignore the fact that i am late i meant to post this yst but my laptop updated and i didnt save a fat chunk of this LOL. (speech aside) i love you. konoha loves u. i’m in this corner of the world blowing a candle for u and cheering u on always. happy birthday my best girl <3

It’s a good day to love you today.

Konoha’s up by seven, then at the grocery store by seven forty-five. A quick breakfast in the car: just a bottle of orange juice and a bag of chips that he just knows you’ll scold him for.

Pick up the balloons after heading to the bakery, then finding a way to somehow sneak all of what he has prepared in the house before you wake up. He smiles, delighting in the thought of another year with you.

Three birthdays together, a little apartment situated close to the city, and a multitude of inside jokes that would piss off Bokuto on the days he feels excluded. You snicker with him when he whispers his commentary towards you in the theaters, and he’ll do the same when you critique how the popcorn tastes that day.

There’s a lot of unknowns that balance what keeps the joy afloat, he thinks. He doesn’t know what to say when calling the doctor for his yearly checkup, and he doesn’t know how to counter the what-if scenarios the two of you usually talk about.

Sitting in his car, he chuckles. The rush hour of the morning borders unforgivable today, and while he could have sat still in his car, grumbling about the inconvenience, he settles for huffing towards it instead—defining factors like that as one of the inevitables in life.

So he thinks of you.

He left the house a little before sunrise, with you still asleep in bed. On the left side, wrapped in 75% of the blankets, with the plush cradled in between your arms. Some days he regrets winning that for you. While you said the expression on the hamster’s face mirrors his when he’s coming home from a rough day at work, it’s also the same plush that’s usually sandwiched in-between the two of you every time he tries to hold you at night.

Some days it’s like that, but today, he’s thankful it’s there to keep you company while he’s out here.

He’s always heard about the things people do for love, and while in the beginning he was never one to believe in its influence, as he catches a glimpse of himself on the rearview mirror, he laughs. There’s at least ten paper bags from the grocery store—all of which are meant just for breakfast, and a box with the god-awful hot pink wrapping paper he couldn’t have changed at the very last minute.

It’ll have to make do, he supposes. Slip ups happen sometimes, and in love, perfection is only a far-fetched dream.

In youth, love is make believe. Love is the ice cream truck that passed by his street every afternoon, and the coins his mother would leave out on the kitchen table for him just enough to treat himself. Love is the stories and the idea that he’d find a hand to hold and squeeze tight, even if all the boys in class would roll their eyes and stay away from the cooties.

Love is good.

Then as it stays good, love becomes great.

He learns of that the second he turned twenty and met you on aisle three of the grocery store at 2 in the morning. Pyjama bottoms, hair in a bun, and you’re squinting at the labels—trying to decide whether to get chocolate or vanilla for the frosting.

He said his hello then, because love at that time was also the three second push that came into his life as a show of brevity.

Konoha eases off the brakes, letting the car roll for a good couple of meters before slowly coming into a stop again—the traffic still present.

With a sigh, he resorts to tapping on the steering wheel and reliving through the memories again. He had no game then, he realizes. He approached you with half of the pickup line he plucked from reddit jumbled up as he said it, and he had a tomato sauce stain on his shirt.

Now that he thinks about it, he looked a little sleazy.

But the world has its ways of redefining what it means to be perfect, he supposes. What happened after was you turned your head, two tubs of frosting on either of your hands, and a smile already cracking its way through the prior confusion on your face.

And shit, he remembers, that’s all it took for him to realize that perhaps this is what they mean about the great that comes with the redefinition of love.

From then, you became a fixture of his every day. Three years since tomato sauce stains and your icing dilemma, he still learns more and more about you, finding home and falling in love as the days go by.

So today is a good day to love you.

Your third birthday you’re celebrating with him, and he’s in his car crawling his way through the traffic with a jar of tomato sauce and two kinds of canned icing in the paperbags in the back seat just to commemorate the first hello.

Tapping his finger against the steering wheel, he smiles. There’s a comfort in knowing that you’re headed home. Back to you, back to love.

He hopes that god awful plush is keeping you warm, Konoha thinks with a smile. Then with a laugh, he steps his foot off the brakes again, the world letting what’s there flow as motion comes once more and eases him into the road that brings him closer to you.

An hour later, he’s trudging up the stairs.

To be fair, in the parking lot he did try to think of at least a speech to present to you. Perhaps the classic ‘I love you, babe. Happy birthday,’ followed by a suave look, a bouquet of flowers, and breakfast in bed. He smirks, knowing even though blunt sentimentality has never been you nor his’ style when it comes to communication, you always had a soft spot for the moments where he did remind you that his love will always have the intention to stay.

Staring infront of the door, all it takes to put himself together is a deep breath, an honest smile, and just like that, he’s good to go.

Cake in hand and the strings to the balloon pinched in between his fingers, he nudges the door open, trying to be quiet as he cranes his neck and listens for noise inside the house. Delighting in the silence, he makes his way in, careful so he doesn’t disturb the peace.

Mornings have always been easy with you.

You wake up around the same time as he does, and breakfast is always shared at a table for two. Easy conversation, sleepy smiles, and little chuckles sprinkled before the beginning of the day is kickstarted.

Konoha smiles. There’s a cake with a smiley face iced in the center and a bouquet with all your favorite blooms in tow. A whole lot of love is the product of the bits built one on top of the other from the everyday that remains his—though it’s as much as yours too.

There’s love found in home, three years shown within, and the subtle promise of a lifetime in the presence that stays.

“You know,” a voice jolts him. Konoha, wide eyed, turns towards the kitchen, quickly spotting you.

You’re sat in your usual spot by the window, a bowl of cereal in front of you, and his hoodie wrapped around your frame. You smirk at him, spoon in hand, eyes to him. “If you’re going to surprise me, you could have probably pulled it off if you didn’t have a whole concert in the shower.”

His tongue pokes his cheek, the red on his face displayed in full colors because of how bright the morning is. “Last night you said you were sleeping in, so I figured you’d be knocked the fuck out till 10 or something.”

“That was the plan,” you laugh, shifting your eyes back down to your breakfast and scooping up a bite.

You hear a huff, then when you turn to him, you smile again. Konoha’s standing a little awkwardly in the middle of the living room now. His Donald Duck house slippers on, and his socks aren’t even matching. On top of the paper bags on the table, he’s still trying his hand at balancing the cake, bouquet, and strings from the balloon in his hand.

He’s looking at anywhere but towards you.

Laughing softly under your breath, you throw him a lifeline. “Want me to turn around and have you clean up your entrance so that I can pretend to be surprised when you say happy birthday?”

When you look back up, he’s already made it halfway across the living room, just now stepping into the kitchen to plop down on the seat in front of you. Puffing his cheeks, he sets the boxes down on the clear end of the table and leans forward. Meeting him halfway, you smile as he presses a quick kiss on your temple.

In laughter, he eases into love. “Happy birthday,” he smiles.

Smiling along with him, you hold out the spoonful you meant to give to yourself in offering towards him. “Morning.”

Even though he’s a little disappointed he couldn’t pull off the surprise, the smile on his face is still cheeky when he faces you. Mornings are easy, he thinks again, because love is.

“I can still cook for you,” he offers, taking the fork from your hand and reaching in the bowl to pick at the bits of fruit instead of the actual cereal.

You quirk a brow in his direction. “By that do you mean you’ll just plate the takeout you got and hide the boxes so you can tell me you cooked for me?”

“Will that impress you?” Konoha laughs, the smile on his face easy.

“Depends,” you shrug. “What kinda takeout did you get?” Peering into the boxes he tries to shield with his body, he eventually moves away with a laugh when you swat him on the shoulder and poke him to the side. “Was anything even open this early?”

He points the fork with the slice of strawberry in your direction, his face smug. “I ordered in advance.”

Narrowing your eyes, you lean forward and take a bite, laughing when he gives you a look for biting the piece you don’t doubt he’s been eyeing for a while now.

You snort, recalling the memory of him hunched over the desk the other night, shooing you away everytime you’d enter the room. “Tell me you didn’t bother that poor auntie at 11 in the evening just for this?”

He looks away, eyes closed. “I’m a resourceful man.”

“She’s in her sixties and 11 is probably three hours past her bedtime!” you laugh.

Konoha looks at you anyway, smiling. “But are you happy I got you your pastries?”

Eyeing the box, it doesn’t take much for love to resettle into peace again, your joy quickly mirroring his. “You drove all the way there for me?”

“Always for you,” he responds, like it’s the most obvious thing.

You reach forward and pinch his cheek, finding love in the silly bits of him too. “But you always complain about how annoying it is to drive this early in the morning. I know rush hour’s a bitch,” you try to reason.

He shakes his head. “I know. But it’s your day.”

“You drove there last week too when I was craving,” you mutter. Konoha crosses his arms one over the other, and leans his head against it down on the table. Looking through his lashes and up at you, he beams. “That’s because I love you.”

Poking through a bigger piece of fruit from your bowl, you bring the fork towards him, until it’s just barely poking at his lips. “You know, you’re really sweet when you’re decided.”

Accepting the strawberry, Konoha suppresses a chuckle. “I’m always decided when it comes to you, what do you mean?”

Shrugging, you sift through the contents of your bowl, looking for more slices of fruit. You’ll add more next time, you note in the back of your mind. He smiled more when he ate the strawberries instead of the initial blueberry.

“I also got tomato sauce and icing,” he admits, tilting his head to the paper bags still on the coffee table in the living room. “To commemorate hello.”

“So you’re a poet now, I see,” you tease.

“I can be a lot of things in this life.”

You tilt your head. “Like?”

“I’ll tell you once I think about more things that impress you the most.”

You smile. “Just be Akinori.”

He smiles again, love written along the peace in his expression. “Deal.”

“It’s nice to be loved,” you tell him, eyeing the bouquet with the blooms and the cake with the smiley face peeking through the window of the box.

“Because I love you, that’s why,” he replies.

Morning is easy.

A table for two, light conversation, and a history lived and loved even though silence tends to resettle in the room from time to time. Memory relished through love and the flow of the day nurturing enough for him to delight in the moment and feel at ease because this is the kind of love that’s meant to stay kind for a lifetime.

“Happy birthday,” he smiles, and when you look at him, he thanks his lucky stars for that three second rush of brevity that pushed him to begin love with a hello.

ily always <3

#gray <33

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

(Un)Fortunate Misunderstanding

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (spanking, blow job)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your intentions are misunderstood as you struggle to comprehend those of another.

This is for @candy-and-writing‘s 1000 Follower Challenge, I got “Get the fuck out.” + Andy Barber

Note: Okey dokey, more Andy. I’m sorry, I can’t stop but I promise I’ll be mixing it up soon. I have 4 days of camping starting Monday to do nothing but think!

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Laurie answered the door. You weren’t even sure she heard you knock as she seemed in a rush to get out the door. She smiled and stopped before she could crash into you.

“So sorry about that.” She said sweetly. “I was just running out to get Jacob.”

“He’s not home yet?” You asked.

“Shoot, I thought I messaged you. He’s staying late tonight for tryouts. I told him I’d pick him up.”

“Oh, well how long will that be?” You fiddled with the strap of your bag.

You’d taken the bus all the way there and it wasn’t worth it to go all the way back to campus. While your tutoring gig gave you a little extra cash, it didn’t exactly leave you flush. You smiled awkwardly at Laurie.

“I’m sorry, I’ll just--”

“No, no, it’s my fault. I should have called.” She touched your arm gently. “Come in. You can hang out here. We won’t be more than an hour. He got out early from his last period so he could try out.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, Laurie.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She held the door open and beckoned you in. “You know where everything is. Water in the fridge and some snacks if you like.”

“It’s okay, I’ll do some studying while I wait.” You said.

“Alright,” She stood in the door as she watched you slip out of your shoes. “I’ll try not to be too long. Again, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s alright, Mrs. Barber. Really.” You assured her.

She nodded and carried on out the door. You listened for her car and went to sit at the dining table where you usually did your lessons with Jacob. You sat and pulled out your textbook and turned to the little post-it you’d placed to mark your page.

It didn’t take long to finish the assigned chapter you already started on the bus. You took out your phone and checked your school email and then the few pointless social media notifications that clustered along the upper margin. You set your phone face down and stood. All morning in classes sitting at a desk, then the bus ride over; you were stiff and restless.

You wandered into the living room and paced around. You stopped at the wall of pictures along the far wall; family vacations, birthday parties, Christmases. The Barbers were the idyllic suburban clan. You looked down at the long console table, fresh white tulips stood over the rippled brim of the vase. Beside it, a small mother of pearl tray with an assortment of rings and a single necklace with a large opal stone.

You lifted the chain and admired the clouded streaks of colour. It was pretty. You turned and went to the slatted mirrors hung along the next wall. You held up the chain as if you were wearing it and admired it against the collar of your wool sweater.

“You know, I got that for Laurie for her birthday and she hasn’t worn it once.” Andy’s voice made you wince.

You looked over at him and lowered the necklace. You went back to the table and dropped it back with the rings. You turned back to him and wilted under his steady gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him look so stern. He was usually smiling and telling dad jokes.

“It’s very pretty.” You said as you made to head back to the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Came through the back. Laurie left the gate open again.” He moved into you path. “It is a nice necklace. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting it.”

“Well, I was just looking,” You said as you stopped. “I shouldn’t have touched though.”

“No? You sure you didn’t wanna put it on? Maybe tuck in under your shirt?” He ventured. “No one would know the difference. Well, not until it was too late.”

“Mr. Barber, I wouldn’t--”

“I was a college student once. It’s tight. Hard to scrape by.” His lips curved slightly. A dark grin. “Never stole though.”

“Really, I would never do that.” You tried to side step him and he moved with you.

“She wouldn’t notice, I’d just expect you to ask before taking.”

“You know, Mr. Barber, I don’t appreciate the accusation. I was just looking.” You insisted.

“Sure.” His jaw twitched as his grin fell. “You know, I don’t like to be the bad guy but I don’t stand for liars.”

“I am not lying.” You huffed and brushed past him. “You can tell Laurie I left. Or maybe share your theory and tell her you fired me. I won’t be accused of being a thief.”

You went to the table and shoved your textbook into your bag and snatched your phone up. Andy was right there when you turned back. He grabbed your phone and pulled on your bag until it slipped down to your elbow.

“Fire you? Three strikes. I’ll allow you this one but… there has to be punishment.”

You pulled on your bag but he was stronger than you. Very strong.

“Give me my phone, I’m going.” You hissed.

“Come on, we both know you need this job.” He taunted. “You walk out and there’s no coming back, you know that.”

“I wasn’t stealing.” You reached for your phone and he raised it over his head. “Mr. Barber, give me my phone.”

He flung it away and tore your bag from your grasp. His hand went to your arm and he spun you around. You hit the table as he shoved you forward.

“All you have to do is admit it.” He snarled.

“Let me go,” You tried to shake him off as he clung to you. “I didn’t do anything. Mr. Barber, stop! What are you doing?”

“Put your hands on the table.” He ordered.

“I don’t understand. Mr. Barber, this isn’t you-- I didn’t--”

“I see the way you come in here, looking around, like you’re casing the place.” He tutted. “Now you put those hands on the table or I’ll call the police.”

“I didn’t do anything--”

“I won’t say it again. If you won’t confess then you’ll just have to learn the hard way.” He pushed on your shoulder and you slapped your hands onto the table to keep from bending entirely. “So, hands flat.”

He withdrew his hand and you heard a buckle. You turned to look at him as he undid his belt.

“Keep your hands on the table.” He barked.

You pressed your hands flat and turned to stare at the far wall. You listened to the glide of leather from his belt loops and you bit down. You shivered as he moved behind you. He grabbed the back of your jeans and tore them down roughly just below your ass. You reached to pull them back up and he slapped your hand with his belt.

“Move those hands again and I’ll break a finger.” He growled. “Now,” He folded the belt and rested it against your ass, “Count.”

He raised the belt and brought it down. You cried out and your nails dug into the table cloth.

“That’s one,” He said. “Say it.”

“One,” You said through clenched teeth. He lashed you again and you nearly shouted “two.”

“You gotta keep it down,” He warned. “We don’t want everyone knowing you’re a thief.”

“Mr. Barb--”

He whipped you a third time and you gulped before you forced out ‘three’. Then four, five, six. All the way to ten until your legs were ready to collapse. Your ass was so raw you were certain it was bleeding.

He stopped. At last. He hooked his fingers in the loops of your jeans and pulled them back up. You turned to him with a pained hiss as he slid his belt back into place. He buckled it as he tilted his head at your confused distress.

“So, you still innocent?” He asked.

“I didn’t--” You rasped.

“I’m a lawyer. I know a liar when I see one.” He said.

A car door sounded and then another. Voices rose, familiar and footsteps neared the front door. Andy bent to grab your bag and dropped it on one of the chairs around the table. You found your phone face down and your heart sank at the cracked screen. You couldn’t afford a new one.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” He offered as the front door opened. “We can talk then.”

He went through to the living room and you edged forward to watch him through the doorway. He kissed Laurie and patted Jacob on the shoulder. He was back to the Andy Barber you knew. The smiling, laughing father and husband. The family man with a heart of gold.

You whimpered as you sat at the table and lit up your phone. It worked but the screen was a mess. It would have to do for now. You weren’t sure how long you’d have this job.

💎

Your lesson that night seemed to go on forever. Jacob was disinterested in Arthur Miller’s commentary on McCarthyism and Andy made sure to pop in a few times to ‘check on you’. Laurie had excused herself to her office, as she usually did, but her husband seemed almost paranoid about your presence.

You packed up after and said goodbye to Jacob. He was just happy to be done and quickly pulled out his phone as he left you. You followed him out to the living room and were relieved to find it empty. You slid into your shoes and dipped through the door. You’d catch the bus and send an email to Laurie in the morning. You would find a new job.

“Hey,” The door opened again as Andy called after you, keys jingling as he descended the porch steps. “I said I’d drive you home.”

“I have a bus pass.” You kept on.

“It’s dark.” He caught up to you and latched onto your bag, pulling you back. “And we’re not done talking.”

“I told you I didn’t do it,” You ripped your bag away from him. “And then you assaulted me.”

“I punished you. I will again if you keep lying.” He sneered.

“How many times do I have to say it? You walked in on my playing with a necklace. That’s hardly stealing.” You argued.

“A few more minutes, I’m sure…” He grabbed your elbow and turned you round the back of the car. “Get in.” You dug your heels in and he jerked you forward. “Keep fighting. It’s fun.”

He opened the car door and you were barely able to duck your head as he shoved you inside. He slammed the door and nearly caught your fingers. He got in on the other side and shoved the keys in the ignition. The engine whirred to life and he pulled out abruptly.

“So…” He said.

“So…” You echoed. “I already--”

“Deny, deny, deny. You’re digging the hole deeper and deeper.” He growled. “Confess, apologise, and we’re done. You keep your job and maybe I’ll have some peace of mind that you have a degree of honesty.”

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure why he was so adamant. Why he was so convinced that you were going to steal that necklace. You’d given him no reason to distrust you. He’d always been friendly, kind, and hospitable. It just didn’t make sense.

“I’m waiting.” He said.

“You can let me out here.” You leaned into the door.

“All you have to do is tell the truth.” He coaxed. “Look, I get it. You’re young, you want nice things.”

You shook your head and sniffed. You stared out the window angrily. “Yeah, so? I wouldn’t just take them.”

“I see the way you look at Laurie. You admire her; envy her. You want what she has.” He continued. “The clothes, the jewelry, the house…” He paused and planted his elbow on the console. “Me.”

“Wh-what?” You sputtered. “Are you serious? Mr. Barber, that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? I’m older but I’m not haggard,” He said. “Neither of us can deny, I’m a pretty decent catch.”

“Please stop so I can get out.” You pleaded.

“It’s cute. A little crush.” His hand slid off the console and crept along your leg. “I got a bit of one myself.”

“Mr. Barber.” His hand stretched over your thigh and he squeezed. “Andy!”

He stopped and you jolted forward against the seatbelt. You peeked out the window. It was your building. You grabbed your bag and undid your belt as you pushed his hand away. You opened the door then froze.

“How do you know where I live?” You looked back at him. “I didn’t tell you.”

“It saved in the GPS when Laurie drove you,” He said smoothly.

“She drove her car.” You climbed out entirely. “I quit.”

You slammed the door and raced away from the car. Your ass was still sore and you winced as your panties rubbed against the tender skin. You swept inside the lobby of the building and let yourself in the heavy metal door. You climbed the stairs to your floor as tears pricked at your eyes.

You closed yourself into your room and dropped your bag. You held your head in your hands and tried not to scream. How could a perfectly normal day go so wrong?

You took out your phone and felt the screen. Ugh, you should have put a protector on it. Always pressing your luck. You set it on your small desk and sat on your narrow single bed. You’d wake up tomorrow and start again. The only thing that would be different was the Barbers. They’d be easy enough to forget about. You had classes and you were sure there was some other job you could find in between.

Well, the welts on your ass might remind you of the day’s shit show.

Three loud knocks shook your door. You flinched and stood. You crossed the room and opened the door, just a crack. It was Andy and he looked as agitated as before.

“How did you get up here?” You leaned on the door as his hand rested on the other side.

“Let me in.” He demanded. “We aren’t done.”

“No,” You pushed the door closed but it didn’t click. He flung it open and you stumbled back. “Get the fuck out.”

“When I’m done here.” He said calmly as he shut the door. He turned the lock decisively. “Promise.”

“I’ll scream.” You threatened. “I’ll call campus security.”

“You won’t.” He stormed forward and grabbed you. “What you’re going to do is get down on your knees and make up for your sticky fingers with that pretty little mouth.”

“Mr. Barber,” Your voice rose. “Get--”

He clapped his hand over your mouth before you could shout. He walked you backwards until you were against the wall. He pinned you there and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You see what happens, little girl. I’ll tell Laurie about what you did then I’ll tell her you tricked me into coming up here and then turned on me when I refused you. The cops will eat it up, too. I got a few friends on the force. Friends of the family, even.”

You blinked at him and your eyes swam with tears. The sheer anger in his face was terrifying. The unyielding strength in hands was more so.

“So, are you going to be good?” He snarled. “Show me I can trust you?”

You stared at him then nodded. He slowly dropped his hand and smirked as he backed away. Again, his hands went to his belt. You closed your eyes and braced yourself. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.

He unzipped his pants. You heard it. You couldn’t look at him as you dropped to your knees. The thin carpet did little to pad your descent.

He stood over you and stepped closer. Your vision cleared and you were staring at his cock. His hand wrapped around it as he stroked himself. He reached out to pet your cheek.

“No time to waste,” He hummed. “I gotta be home before Laurie gets worried.”

“Please, don’t say her name.” You begged.

“I won’t say much once you get started.”

You lowered your lashes. You reticently licked your licks and got closer. You grasped him as his hand fell away. You exhaled with a shudder and closed your eyes completely.

You licked his tip and he groaned. The sound made you shiver. His other hand slipped behind your head as he urged you on. You opened wider as he met your throat and you gagged. He eased off but pushed back in until he slid down your throat. You felt even more like retching.

“Oh, ho,” He uttered. “Wow, I never thought-- you’re such a sweet little thing, I didn’t expect--”

He puffed as he rocked into your mouth. The sloppy noises filled your ears and floated through the room. You gripped the top of his pants, the leather of his belt against your palm as he sped up.

You let out breathless groans around him and he clutched your head tighter with a hand on either side. You struggled to get air as he guided you up and down his length.

“Oh god, here it comes.” He growled. “Here it--”

He pulled out of your mouth and held your head with one hand as he stroked himself. Your eyes fluttered as he came across your face, streaks of semen from forehead to chin.

He pressed his thumb along your lips and pushed a string of his salty cum into your mouth. He sighed as he gazed down at you.

“You see what happens when you touch what isn’t yours?” He purred. “I’ll see you on Wednesday. Jacob’s unit test is the next day.” He pulled his hand away as his cum cooled on your skin. “Don’t be late.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #dark andy barber x reader #fic #au #one shot #Defending Jacob #dark!fic #dark fic

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whatsupmrstark · 3 years

Text

Bare

Peter parker x stark! Reader (aged up peter ofc)

Summary: a fun day at the compound leads to getting caught by your less than approving dad

warnings: smut with lots of plot have fun

Everyday felt like a never ending date. But in a good way.

You and peter have been together for a while, 10 months to be exact. And nobody knew, well nobody means the avengers your friends and... okay so everyone knows except your dad and happy but hey! Don’t judge the mans scary about his kid. Not that you were scared but more of Peters sake.

The affair started about a year ago, you hung out when he stayed at the compound. He was the only person there under the age of 30 and you two hit it off. Then days at the lab together and so on. You begged your dad to transfer you to midtown and after almost two months of begging and throwing tantrums he agreed, under the pretense you had all your classes with peter and we’ll that was just a bonus.

So then from there you kissed a kiss turned into kisses and dating and homecoming and now your here 10 months later cuddled up against him in the most not obvious way watching a movie with your dad and the rest of your family.

“Nat I swear to god your telling me you wouldn’t fuck him” Wanda whispers sneaking a peak at vision,making sure he hadn’t heard,before focusing back on the movie. You and peter hadn’t stopped your incessant tapping, yes you learned Morse code as an avenger study but you always put it to use in times like this.

He finished pressing out I love you to the skin on your back. A little smile played on your faces as you sat up more in your seat, “hey dad will you go get me more popcorn?” You looked down at him he was a row in front of you in the makeshift theater. And for a stark we all know what “makeshift” means he just nodded grabbing your bowl “Hey me too” Bucky laughed extending his arm to hand his bowl.

Hold up let me explain the seating.

In the front row was nat, Wanda, your dad, and Bruce all huddled together as the scary can and will kill you if they’re angry tier

Then middle row you on the end seat peter next to you and Bucky and Steve on his other side -the soft kid at heart tier

And the third row had vision, Sam and Thor the undecided, we got in to late to pick a good spot tier?

Tony enjoyed culturally enriching the group of misfits and had on a Risky business and sandlot marathon. Right now your halfway through sandlot and halfway through your pantience to go the fuck to bed.

Leaning over into Peters ear you whispered “can you sleep in my room tonight?” He nodded before turning to whisper back “how am I gonna do that, what if mr. stark comes in” you rolled your eyes and kissed him softly, you guys weren’t fans of pda but it was just a peck

“He won’t just come by after everyone’s sleep and I’ll lock the door” it was a good enough answer because he nodded before turning back to the movie just as tony came down the isle handing you both bowls of popcorn, hot buttery and fresh just how you liked it.

By the time the movie ended it was almost 12 and everyone was off to sleep, except tony, he headed down to the lab to work on something and you headed off to take a shower.

Post shower and ready to drag yourself into bed you looked up at the ceiling fighting sleep when you heard your door creak, Peters eyes darting around the dark room till they landed on your stiff body “hey are you awake” you nodded stupidly “yeah I’m up” you twisted around in the sheets, scooting over so he could have get half the bed, “is my dad asleep?”

He just shrugged as he climbed into the bed “Friday where’s tony” you asked aloud, one of your favorite parts of the new update was tracking where you all were in the compound. “Mr.stark is in suite” you just shook your head a little “safe and clear” peter sighed resting into the bed comfortablely, “I can’t believe you own Spider-Man pants” you giggle looking at him Choice of pajamas

You two talked for a while about nothing and everything as you usually did, you fell asleep and peter just watched for a while, you’re tense expression dwindle away drooling on his chest as you curled up tighter against him. It wasn’t long until sleep over came him and he too slept long and hard.

When you woke up, you rushed peter out and back to his room stealing kisses and feeling the adrenaline of doing what you’re not supposed to.

And this continued for a week, a full week of blissful domestic sleeping, the best sleep of your life. Cuddled into your boyfriends body and completely aware of your maybe consequences.

Friday night you sat around the dinner table. “Not for you to take this the wrong way but when is May getting back peter?” Sams question has everyone’s eyes on the two of you, trying to his the fact your holding hands under the table “she’s supposed to get back Monday-I’m excited I haven’t seen her in forever” Sam just nodded to the answer going back to his mash potatoes.

After dinner you all gathered in the living room to play some games laughing and fights and boards flipping halfway through a game of life. “Yknow Thor maybe you should have six sets of twins” everyone laughed at the joke seeing his two cars trailing behind another. “Haha, you and peter are probably the only ones here who will have kids” Wanda blurted and you wanted to dissolve. Of course tony hadn’t taken that the wrong way but everyone kinda shut up. The game ended with vision being victorious and everyone went their separate ways.

Peter was the next to slip up, on Saturday night you were doing what you usually did, watching a horrible reality show on Netflix about nothing but sex and bikinis and girls with awful fake tans. Bucky, who luckily always found a way to spend time with you on saturdays, was really invested though he’d never admit. “I really really thought brad and Angela were gonna get together by the end of that episode” you laughed at his commentary.

Bucky was sitting criss cross on the floor between your legs as you sat on the couch “Bucky I swear your hairs gonna look.. fantastic” you chuckled as you braided another section “are you sure you don’t want Rasta beads on the front” he scoffed eyes still trained on the tv in front of him “no sam would laugh at me and Steve would probably make me take them out” you leaned to the side and forward to look at him smirking and continuing with trained hands at the clusterfuck of braids in his hair

“I think when you take these out your hairs gonna be like beach wavy” taking a comb and brushing out another section “like micheals hair?” You sometimes forget he’s not up to date on all the technical girl stuff “yeah micheals hair makes him like 10 times hotter”

“Who’s hot?” You practically jumped out your skin, Bucky got startled and went into defense “Peter what the fuck, you don’t sneak up on people like that!” You slung an arm over the back of the couch to hit him but he just laughed and swung over to sit next to you. “Another trash reality show marathon” he laughed as he watched the show along with you.

As more time passed you stopped paying attention to peter, when you finished buckys hair you leaned back and curled into the blanket. Watching peter now, he never really got into these show like you and Bucky, you didn’t even get into these shows like Bucky.

And then you felt the little pang of jealousy you got when a girl tried something with peter, he was obviously always uninterested in anyone but you. “Did you just look at her ass?” Peter broke his gaze from the tv and fixated on you “what?” Buckys eyes left the tv too looking between the two of you on the couch opposite to him, mouth full of frosted mini wheats straight from the box.

“You totally just checked that new contestant out, stared at her ass!” He laughed and the got serious once he realized you werent joking. “Babe.. you’re kidding right?.. I really didn’t even look and–“

“What’s all this babe stuff peter” both of you stopped shellshock and turning your heads to look at your dad fridge open as he rooted through it “it’s- uh.. yeah- hey mr. stark” you wanted to laugh and piss yourself at the same time.

“It’s some new slang stuff tony, Yknow how the kids are today” Bucky covered for you as he got up to put his Wheaties away “I’m gonna head to bed kid don’t watch it without me” he winked as he turned around shooting finger guns at tony- “goodnight buck” you all chimed at the same time

“Jinx”

“Double jinx”

“Triple jinx” you all harmonized like a well oiled machine, your dad let out a deep chuckle as he stirred his fresh coffee

“Okay cut it out, since you don’t look busy why not come help me in the lab kid” you both looked up excited and tony looked at you a little sad, “we can work on your new suit” you just let your smile fade and nodded

You three walked down the hall together in complete silence “so dad, this is like the seventh?- seventh right peter?- super spidey suit and I’ve yet to see mark one of iron girl” peter nodded to your predictions statement and tony just rubbed his temple as he picked up the speed and hurried to the lab peter going too. You stopped at your bedroom door “I’m still gonna be asking for it in the morning” you shouted at them and tony just looked at you down the hall smiling at his little girl.

You stopped at struck a quick pose “I am iron man” you mocked his voice, you could see the skin around his eyes crinkle when he laughed just as the elevator door shut them from view. And you headed into your room.

Not a few hours later peter snuck into your room, you paused the movie you were watching and looked at him as he slumped into your bed half sleep already “Yknow I had to call your dad babe for the past 3 hours because he didn’t believe it was slang”

“Hey you’re the one slipping up not me- and god please never call me babe again I already am my father” he chuckled against the pillow his face was smushed in “cmere baby I wanna cuddle” you rolled your eyes and clicked off your tv “Peter any form of babe- not even bae- is acceptable anymore, get creative”

Then came Sunday- the day known to be wasted away worrying about everything you have to do and getting none of it done.

Soon after checking if tony was in his suite you texted peter

You:Come over peter

Peter parker:The last time you texted me that... 😏

you:Just get your ass over here I want to cuddle

You didn’t hear him till your door pushed open and he came into the room. He sauntered over and kissed you. “Hey” he smiled pulling away “hi” , “so what do you wanna do tonight” he asked sitting on the edge of your bed.

You pulled your legs into a cross cross position sitting up against the headboard, “I don’t know, wanna make out?” He just smiled at the brashness murmuring a soft ‘yeah’ as he climbed foreword kissing you. Soft kisses turning into strong ones and you were laid down peter over top of you savoring every second.

“Y/n..” before the words left his lips you’d already felt his hard on press on your thigh for a second. “Are you okay if we..” you asked, usually when you guys did it it was at Peters house and this was new territory.

Peters eyes locked with yours, your peaceful demeanor soothed his anxietied state. He started kissing you again grinding against you this time. Your hands that were draped around his neck ran through his hair finding purchase on the back of his head. You loved being close to him just as much as he did you. The heavy weight of his body against yours made you relax, you felt safe.

Your kiss moved to his neck sucking a small bright red spot that’d be gone by morning you tapped at his side to turn over and you two did just that, resting on his abdomen before scooting down, kissing at his collar bones that peaked beneath the shirt.

You tugged at the top, pulling it up and over his head before just scooting it off the bed. “As much as I’ve seen you peter, I miss you so much” he had the most blissful look in his face. Completely content. Lips a bright shade of pink tucked into a smile. You went back to kissing all down his chest admiring every part of your boyfriend.

“I love you” you smiled and pick your head up to look at him “you what?” He never wanted to pull you down on top of him more “you heard me”

“I love you more peter” you punctuated the statement pulling your sleep shirt over your head. “Can I-“ you gestured to his shorts tucking your index fingers into the waistband of his boxers “yeah” his throaty response stung at your ears.

You pulled both the offending items of clothing off his hard cock sprang up and rested back against his abdomen while you dropped the clothes off the bed. Hands landing on his thighs, gently patting and rubbing the muscular legs you adored.

You pressed down on him leaning forward to kiss him before going back down hand wrapping around him, his head fell back on the pillow already. You pumped him slowly kissing at his v line admiring your work as Peters breath shortened.

You licked your lips before wrapping them around the tip, sucking slowly, tongue twirling over his slit tasting his oozing Precum leisurely taking more of him into your mouth. “Fuck, y/n” Peters hand slipped into your hair. He wasn’t a head pusher but he liked to rest his hand and feel your movements, something to ground him and not get lost in his senses.

You kept bobbing he let out faint noises of moans. “Y/n I can’t be quiet you know that” voice strained and quiet

You lifted off him, a bit of spit had dribbled out your mouth, a slick string of mixed bodily fluids attached you to him. “Hey, FRIDAY put on sound control. Block the whole room out” you spoke fast. “Yes miss stark” the response made you happy.

“What the frick is that” you looked at him massaging his thighs again before stroking his cock. “We had to add an update because I play music too loud for people to sleep. It’s just in my room” you smiled at him and he gracefully laid back to his resting position

You returned to your previous activity’s sucking harder. He didn’t hold back letting out all the beautiful sounds he knew you loved to hear. “That’s it baby” hands returning to your hair as his hips threatened To jut out. You took a hand down petting and rubbing his balls coaxing his first orgasm out.

Peter groaned hard, not expecting to cum so quickly his hot load shooting in your mouth, swallowing quickly and pumping him through his high. Scooching up to rest above him he pulled you into a heated kiss, stomach hot and body aching, wishing to be touched. He pushed at your shorts sliding them down your thighs as much a he could. You lifted one knee at a time trying to get the clothing off. Somewhere in that your tits ended up in his face as he watched you struggle “babe” he chuckled watching you wiggle around in attempt to remove your clothes.

You looked up at his face, he was smiling tenderly post laugh and you just gave up sitting down on your bottom to pull them off your ankles, taking the time to take off your underwear. “I could’ve helped” he fake pouted running a hand from your calf to your knee then up to your thigh as he moved over top of you.

Peter kissed your neck giving warm wet kisses down your chest. He flicked at your nipples before wrapping his lips around one sucking generously eliciting vague sounds of pleasure from your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his mid section, Peters body slotted perfect in the space between your legs. You leaned your head back bumping into the headboard as his tongue swirled and lapped at the bud “ow” hands slipping to hold the spot.

He pulled away fast “are you okay?” Full of concern “yea yea just keep going” you burned in embarrassment as he smiled back, nothing ever seemed to go as smoothly and as sexily as you imagined. Peter leaned back down sucking the other abandoned peak into his mouth, he picked up on the tongue swirl you’d done to him earlier. Caressing at your hip, you looked down seeing his back muscles flex in the dim light coming through your window. “God you’re so sexy” words slipping past your lips in pleasure.

You could feel the smile against your chest as he continued hand sliding between your body’s to your aching core, nimble fingers dancing in all the right places to make you sweat. “Peter” the soft moan of his name had him jumping. Finally letting his fingers glide though your folds, wet and eager.

His head descended kissing down your stomach before placing soft kisses across your hips, legs parting when his three middle fingers rubbed at your clit, fluid and steady movement supplying just the right amount of gratification to leave you dizzy.

Your hips raised involuntary, one of his hands come up to push you back down.

He pulled his fingers away from you, a soft whimper at the loss of the stimulation he provided. “Peter-“ you’re voice was hoarse and whiny as you looked at him so badly wanting him to do something,anything.

“Peter please just fuck me” you could feel the air that left his mouth hit your thigh when he let out a chuckle, your body was hot all over and all you wanted was him. Peter craned over you kissing you more his knee coming between your thighs as you went to shut them.

When you two parted you leaned over to get a condom turning back to peter, sitting on his haunches between your parted legs, his hand wrapped around his cock as you opened the foil packet.

Almost as soon as you’d discarded the packet peter had the condom on and pulled you back to the bed kissing down your neck and shoulder “I love you y/n” hot messy words as he kissed your knuckles fingers interlocking as he held your hand.

You looked down between you two taking the one free hand you had to guide him in, sighs of practical relief left both of you as he slowly sunk in. Your free hand is just now as interlocked as the other, the back of your hands pressed into the sheets Peters nails digging into the fabric below as he started to move his hips.

He groaned so softly “fuck” he kept the slow pace he’d started, wanting you to fully adjust. “Please go faster” your breathy voice that theatened to moan was enough for him to increase his pace. Both your breathing and the sound of you bed creaking filled your ears.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, a loud moan left your lips as he hit the spot he’d been looking for adjusting to hit it with every thrust. Peters lips felt warm and wet when he bit on your shoulder removing a hand from your grasp to hike your leg up. “Fuck you’re so tight” he sounded breathless.

You bit your lip “let me ride you” he continued thrusting and then stopped abruptly “and it’s not even my birthday?” He smiled coyly pulling out as you two switched positions, Peters hands reaching out and greedily grabbing your thighs. You flipped your hair around getting it out your face grabbing onto his shoulders and raising your hips off his lap as he helped himself running his tip along your slit the rubber glistened even more “go ahead sit on it like a good girl” if you weren’t so ready to cum you’d have blushed but he knew just how to egg you on.

Lowering down onto him felt like being impaled in the best way possible “fuck” starting with a grinding motion and starting to rock up and down, the bed squeaking even louder. Peter brought his hand down to rub your clit, going over in a back and forth motion, your hips bucked up to him and a loud moan ripped through you “fuck peter don’t stop” he knew just how to bring you to the edge.

You bounced faster on him his fingers working magic “peter- fuck I’m so close- can I please cum?” He nodded one hand on your waist to help guide you “cum on my cock baby” you whimpered at his words before cumming hard around him clenching down and eyes rolling back “holy shit” you breathed out against the skin of his neck as you his in the crook, body slumped and leaned forward. He was still hard and ready inside you “use me Pete” you whispered in his ear kissing his sweet spot.

Peters hands ventured at your waist rubbing the skin before he grabbed handfuls if you hips his fingers dug into the skin of your ass as he gripped hard, picking your body up and moving you up and down him- god what his super strength could do “who’s is this huh?” He asked as you pulled your head out of hiding moaning a ‘yours’ as he moved your body all on his own. power and Dominance in every movement

You were a mess- your cum coated his cock as it pulled against your sensitive walls “pete- I cant just-“ you whimpered out as he just dropped you down on himself over and over. the sound of you body colliding back with his rang in your ears and you bit your lip to hold back a moan “cmere baby” Peter thumb cradled your chin as he pulled you in for a wet hot kiss, you’re eyes felt sewn shut you were breathing heavily through your nose as you let him in swallowing his groan as he thrusted up slowly the short quick movements seem to hit ever spot you could imagine in such little time “peter let’s- holy fuck- let’s switch” you pulled off his face and he nodded, hand firm gripping himself to pull out and flip you two over.

His warm hands held on to the expanse of your back before just tipping you straight off his lap onto your back, instead of into your pillows you now looked up and seen your footboard as peter smiled down at you before kissing your neck, soft wet open mouth kisses full of every tender moment his actions might have lacked.

Your hands came down around his neck one dancing across the tender skin from your previous attacks, the other gliding through his hair and grabbing at the bit on the nape of his neck- “Peter” you moaned breathlessly

Peters hands had found its ways to your thighs as he kneeled over your body. Fingers leaving impressions from grabbing at you. He sounded just as breathless as he pulled off you admiring the mark he left- soft red and swollen soon to be dark and purple. He lifted your legs and moved you around, adjusting to an easier position.

“Tell me you want it- tell me you want me as much as I want you” his face was red and hot, he still looked so soft and nice sittting above you “fuck- peter I want you” you grabbed his hand lacing your fingers just as he did before. He moved his hips easily finding his place sliding in so perfectly “it’s like you were made for me”groaning he commented. the silence that surrounded you both felt so comforting and empty- filled by every noise made in the room. The light bed rocking, gasps and groans as he quickened- the skin on skin contact decimating into a tune you’d hum the next day.

As he moved longer and stronger he let go of your hand pushing his into the bed propping himself up as he rocked into you. Your legs wrapped around his pert ass, his toes digging deep to keep traction on the soft sheet. “Fuck y/n” he breathed through gritted teeth

“Peter I’m so close- are you with me”

He nodded biting his lip, looking down to where you wrapped around him so perfectly “I’m right behind you”

He let the consistency of his movement out the window, he was hitting deep and hard and fast. “Peter-“ you grabbed his bicep “cum in me” he locked eyes with you if he wasn’t so caught up in making the two of you finish he would have had a kid in a candy store expression. Instead he quickly pulled out taking the condom off and sinking back in, soaking in the feeling of his bare cock in you, everything he’d imagined and more. But he could barely ground himself at the moment he had to focus on the rough feeling of raw knees pressing into mattress.

Everywhere you touched left fire, every noise you made sounded like birds chirping on a Sunday morning, everytime he looking at your face eyes shut in pleasure holding your self back, waiting for him.

It was all too much “y/n— holy shit— I’m gonna cum” he moaned hips twitching and eyes rolling as he came feeling the relief of the tension in his stomach as his coil snapped. Jutting in and out a few times relishing in the feeling of you, hot, wet, messy and tight. Feeling you pulsate after you came.

He collapsed on top of you, dick buried deep, chests heaving against one another, your legs wrapped right around him. You could hear him swallow deep in his throat as he let out another deep breath. “Holy shit best one yet” he groaned feeling your chuckle vibrate against his ribs. You ran idle hands through his hair, regaining from your own orgasm.

You two sat like this for a minute until he got enough and pulled away “god damn” he muttered just enough under his breath to not be heard. Pulling out slowly not wanting to go, admiring everything he’d been able to do. “I feel sticky” you locked eyes as you both looked down

“I can’t believe you let me do that” he fell over next to you on the bed, you scooted over to give him more room. “You deserve it, plus I’m on birth control now”

“Your what!?” He smiled and practically giggled picking his head up to look at you.

You just nodded “I said I had cramps” you elaborated. He just kept breathing an arm sneaking down to play with your hand “we should tell them”

You sat up looking down at him “if we tell we can’t do things like this” you frowned

“Am I just a secret to you?” He didn’t sound accusing, he sounded sad.

Pity and guilt filled your chest. “It’s not like that and you know it- I just wanna-“ you readjusted your searing and looked him in the eyes

“Stealing moments like these make it worth it for me, but tommorow I’ll shout from the rooftops I’m in love with peter Benjamin parker, dad be damned”

“Dad be damned” he chanted, bright toothy smile in place

“Scream it now, sound proof and all” he gestured around the room

You shut your eyes and shook your head,

“IM IN LOVE WITH PETER PARKER” you shouted

“Cmere let’s get you cleaned up” peter groaned, sitting up and taking you with him on his way off the bed

Afterwords you two laid in bed “do you know what time it is” you mumbled against his side as you curled up against him

“Snack time?, please I want grapes” Peter brushed some hair out of your face as you groaned

“I don’t think I can get up I’m so tired” you looked up with a pout sitting up onto your forearms, cradling your head. “... but if you give me a piggy back ride” you smiled and he leaned in kissing your forehead, soft lips pressed against the sweat soaked skin.

“Deal.. but I want one on the way back”

You immediately furrowed your brows and he chuckled “I’m kidding, I’m kidding... unless”

“Shut up” you laughed at him leaning off the bed to pick up the discarded clothes from earlier. Tossing his shirt and shorts over and sitting up to put on your shirt the two of you got up

You piggy backed all the way to the kitchen, being as quiet as you could.

It was complete silence, you could hear the flick of the light switch, overhead lights shutting on and illuminating the common area.

“Do you think Sam ate all my grapes?, I swear to god I’m this close to making tony call a meeting” he turned to like at you as you jumped onto the counter just shrugging.

When the fridge door opened it lit up his face, the led glow compared to the light created by Tony’s green initiative was nothing.

“And what would the queen of stark industry, miss y/n stark like to snack?” He joked with you turning and flashing an award winning smile

You shrugged hopping up to open a cabinet. You found the worst best snack In the world. The peanut butter and jelly two in one and a spoon. Breakfast of champions.

Peter watched you crack the jar open leaning against the island and popping a grape in his mouth. “I don’t know how you eat that” he laughed “I mean how psycho do you have to be to eat a pb&j minus the bread” you rolled your eyes “for one- it is good- your just a baby about trying new things and two— did you just call me psycho?” You hopped back into your place on the counter watching him with murder eyes as he flushed with color. “I kid” he shrugged.

You two giggled and talked. eventually you closed the lid on your jar and he zipped the packaging of him grapes and you were on his back once more.

You immediately fell into bed shrugging off your shirt “were still cuddling I hope you know” you looked at peter as he took of his shirt and shorts. He met your eyeline a little smile on his face “and who am I to deny you cuddles?” He joked around before falling immediately silent. You had lifted your hips and slid your underwear off under the covers, thinking nothing too much of it before just throwing them on the ground.

But peter couldn’t help but feel a slight excitement. He never really said anything but he like the idea of the two of you sleeping naked. He doesn’t really know why. So he just went over the foot of your bed, adjusting into his spot on your bed. you flipped to be facing him just as he threw his boxers across the room. “You’re a mess peter” you mumbled scooching in closer to him, holding him across the abdomen and laying your head flat on his chest.

Peter liked the feeling of your skin against his, it was soothing almost therapeutic. You were quick to sleep so he just laid there in the dark playing with your hair and listing to your breathing. It wasn’t much longer till he too fell asleep.

—

Early bird gets the worm was Steve’s thing. And apparently he thought the best course of action was shock. So he started with tony.

It took him a while but he eventually got tony to wake from his sleep. “What the hell are you doing Rogers”

Steven would just plaster on a bright smile “up and at em tony we’ve got big plans today” of course your father just grumbled and tried to turn back over. After a few minutes of Steve poking him he huffed and got out of bed.

Then they even to Bucky. Steve has this one down pack. Growing up the only way nicks mom could get him up on time was.... a wet willie. As much as Steve hated to pull this card he was more excited to have a productive day with the team. Something they haven’t had in a while

With Bucky awake they divided and conquered. Wanda, vision, Sam, Clint, thor, and Bruce were all quick wakes.

Now all nine of them stood outside of Natasha’s door. “I’m not doing it” Sam spoke up. An immediate uproar of ‘not it’ fell from the group. Steve eventually sighed and took the job of waking her up. Much to his surprise she was already up and in workout clothes. “Morning” she addressed Steve as he entered her room seeing the small flock of avengers .who were watching like this was the next best thing, scatter in the hallway.

Then that left you and peter.

It was bright early and seven am when you woke up with peter laying almost across your body. You had to push with a bit too much strength to get up, head groggy and eyes fuzzy.

upon standing You immediately felt the tingle between your legs that , from last experience, would go away to a dull ache in a hour or so. Hobbling into the bathroom you peed, washing your hands and splashing cold water against your warm skin. You had picked up your toothbrush when you heard footsteps of impending doom coming down the hall. “Oh no- oh shit” you mumbled dropping your toothbrush on the counter. Just as you got out the bathroom taking a side glance to peter who was passed out with the sheets and blankets pushed down his naked body past his thighs, only the knee down covered. “Peter” you whisper screamed. He stayed plum asleep no wiser to the world around him as you scrambled to find a shirt- any shirt- which happened to be Peters.

The soft knock on your door made you heart rate pick up. Peter twisted his head to the side but didn’t even wake up a little. “Y/n” you heard your dads voice. You almost shit yourself when the door handle moved. You looked at the lock in pure horror in the split second between the handle twisting and the door opening.

Peter forgot to lock the door after getting a snack. Peter forgot to lock the door. Your dad is coming through that door. Peter is completely asleep. Peter is completely asleep completely naked and completely exposed.

Fuck

You could hear tony shush all the avengers just as the door cracked open. He assumed you were asleep it being so early and all. When he opened the door and saw you, you froze in place. “Good you’re already up” Steve spoke up behind him.

At the same time Bucky Sam and nat rushed down the hall “peter isn’t in his room. Where could he be?”

Your eyes flashed quickly between your entire family standing in your doorway. Down to your fathers koala slippers and then up to his eyes, bright and cheery despite the obvious exhaustion he hid so well. By now his eyes had a chance to give you a one over. You were flushed and looked jittery and nervous. Then his eyes hit your bed.

And all hell broke loose.

“WHAT THE FUCK”

That one woke peter up.

“Dad” you tried to keep your voice calm

Peter frantically pulled the sheet up then the blanket all the way to his neck.

“UH— Mr.Stark I-Um fuck” he swallowed hard. His stomach was in his throat and he felt increasingly more uncomfy as the other avengers watched from the door.

Tony clasped his hands together and took a deep breath “peter I’m gonna ask this one time- and I don’t want you to lie” he spoke pointing his finger at him barely wanting to open his eyes after the sight he just had to absorb.

“Yes sir- mr. stark- sir” you had to close you eyes and shake your head. Peter was his mentee and, hell if you didn’t know any better you’d think your dad liked peter more, the most peter would get is a slap on the wrist and be on with it.

But here was peter parker acting like your dad would blast him down in the next ten seconds if he misspoke. “Okay-okay- why IN THE HELL are you NAKED in MY daughters bed?” Tony finally looked at the boys face. He was covered in a shade of red he’d never seen.

“Dad” tony whipped his head to you almost having forgotten you were right there. “You’re not speaking for him” he turned attention back to flustered, scared shitless, bare naked peter. “If I have to ask again, what the fuck is going on peter- for the love of god just say it”

“I’m in love with your daughter” peter whispered. You smiled and I love you too wasn’t practical in this situation but you mouthed it to him anyway.

Tony let out the deepest most exhausted sigh you’ve heard leave him in years and just shook his head “I can’t deal nor process this right now. So I’m going to go to my room and take a nap and I want to see you both as soon as I’m up” he turned and pushed past the rest of the power rangers to get out mumbling things under his breath your glad you couldn’t understand.

You turned and looked at nat who was hitting Sam who was trying not to laugh. “But mr.stark I’m in love with her” he mocked Peters voice. And you rolled your eyes. “I have no words” you looked him dead in the eyes. “And if you pick on peter about this again I’ll tell my dad you knew the whole time” Sam shut up quick and you slammed your door shut.

Peter let out a sight of relief sitting up in your bed. “Holy shit y/n tony knows”

You got into the bed handing him his boxers. “I couldn’t even care less right now I need another four hours sleep”

Peter laughed and curled up into a cuddle with you. “You’re just like your fucking dad”

#Tom Holland #Peter Parker #Peter Parker smut #Tom Holland smut #avengers #stark!reader

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toaarcan · 3 years

Text

One ship exposes everything wrong with TRoS

Heaven help me, I’m back on my bullshit.

Alright, so, I enjoyed The Rise of Skywalker when I watched it. I actually watched it twice, once on my own when I rushed to see it as soon as possible in order to beat spoilers, and once with my family, in what was a semi-annual new year tradition for us during those four years that a Star Wars film released.

But that doesn’t mean it was good. I enjoyed Transformers: Dark of the Moon the first time I watched it, and that movie’s still a steaming pile of shit. I was admittedly fifteen when I saw DotM, but still.

My point is that I’m fully capable of enjoying crappy films.

But there’s one thing, one thing about TRoS that exemplifies so many of the problems with TRoS as a whole, if not everything (And by that I mean with TRoS specifically, the woeful treatment of John Boyega and Kelly Marie Tran is a Whole Trilogy Problem). And it’s a ship. Specifically this ship.

The Resistance Y-Wing. I hate this ship with the fiery passion of an exploding star, and to talk about why, we need to first go back to The Last Jedi and its conspicuous lack of Y-Wings.

One of the things that I disliked most about the Sequels before TRoS put all the other problems into stark light was the lack of new ships. Instead of new vehicles, we got shinier, sleeker versions of the ships from the original trilogy. And I disliked this because it’s the opposite of what the Prequels did.

Episodes I-III don’t feature more primitive versions of the X-Wing and TIE Fighter, but instead have similar vehicles that evoke the classics while still having an identity of their own.

The ARC-170 looks kinda like an X-Wing, but it’s bigger and has more weapons and crew, and you get why the well-funded Republic can afford things like this while the scrappy Rebels can’t.

The Eta-2 is a predecessor to the TIE Fighter, but it being employed exclusively by Jedi makes a lot of sense, of course a precognitive wizard with superhuman reflexes can do well in a light, unshielded ship, while in the hands of the Empire’s military they’re just expendable swarm fighters.

But then in the Sequels, rather than evolve the ships into new forms, they just made new incarnations of the X-Wing, TIE Fighter, A-Wing, TIE Interceptor, B-Wing, and of course the Y-Wing.

Well, except for one movie: The Last Jedi.

At the outset of the film, we’re introduced to this ship.

This is the MG-100 StarFortress, AKA “That ship all the Star Wars Youtubers hate”. It’s designed to be a much heavier and bulkier version of the B-Wing Starfighter, and is even made by the same people.

From questions about how the bombs “fall” toward the Dreadnought (The answer is magnets) to claims that they’re completely useless because most of the ones in the film died so easily, these things have been put through the wringer by the fandom, and honestly they don’t deserve it? What destroyed the StarFortresses in the film wasn’t their own weaknesses, but them being deployed in too tight a formation. It was a tactical fuckup, not a problem with the ship’s design.

And given that the whole point of the battle over D’Qar is that Poe makes a tactical fuckup to kickstart his development into the new leader of the Resistance as a whole, adding another layer makes sense to me.

But we live in a post-CinemaSins world of media consumption, where every plot-point that isn’t spelled out with a flowchart and an audio commentary by the writers is actually a plothole.

We also live in an era where Star Wars fans pine for the days of the Legends canon where everything about new ships, species, and worlds was explained in background lore and books, and are angry that the new Canon is... doing exactly the same thing?

Seriously, how much exposition and lore dumping is actually present in any of the Star Wars films? Not a whole lot. And that applies to all three eras.

So the StarFortress’ appearance in the film and the lack of Y-Wings led to a bevy of armchair writers demanding to know why the Resistance weren’t using Y-Wings and why they were using those “Resistance Bombers” that are just ‘terrible’.

Answer? Because the Y-Wings sucked shit.

Seriously, go back to the Original Trilogy and try to keep track of the Y-Wings, and see what they actually do, and you’ll find that what they do is “Explode, mostly.”

We’re first introduced to the Y-Wings in A New Hope, and they’re supposed to be the ones performing the Trench Run while the X-Wings cover them, and to their credit, they try.

And then they all get blown up by Vader and his wingmen before they can even take a shot at the exhaust port. Well, except that one that appears with the rebel ships flying away from the Death Star.

Where the fuck were you when the X-Wings were doing the attack run?

The Y-Wings got absolutely wrecked.

Ancillary media would go on to explain that the Y-Wings were beat-up old vehicles that were no longer fit for purpose, but the Rebels had to use them anyway because they had basically no money. They’d stripped down the ships and removed a bunch of their more costly features just to make them viable, and the results of that were pretty clear.

Of course, the Y-Wings were still present in the later films. They don’t do anything in The Empire Strikes Back, but they play a role in Return of the Jedi.

Naturally, that role is mostly “Get blown up while the other ships do the important stuff”.

Despite supposedly being a fighter-bomber that was designed to do significant damage to capital ships, does the Y-Wing play a role in the destruction of the Executor? Does it fuck. Destroying the Imperial flagship’s deflector shields and the subsequent suicidal ram attack on the bridge are tasks that are both performed by the goddamn A-Wings. Y’know, the light interceptors?

The Y-Wings get shown up at their own job by the ships that are there to protect them from TIE Fighters.

Ancillary media again explains why they’re still there. While the Rebels have a newer, better fighter-bomber in the B-Wing, the B-Wing is expensive as fuck and also really difficult to fly.

A non-centreline cockpit that rotates will do that to a ship.

Still, the B-Wing was a better bomber than the Y-Wing ever was (And the StarFortress was better than them both at that role).

All this adds up to a simple fact: There were very good reasons why the Resistance weren’t using Y-Wings. And there were even reasonable reasons to choose the StarFortress compared to the B-Wing itself, given that the Resistance are still undermanned and under-funded, especially with the New Republic getting nuked midway through The Force Awakens. It being easier to fly and having more armaments would have made it a viable choice for the Resistance.

Buuuut oops, people didn’t like the StarFortress and we can’t make the Internet angry at us again! Better put the Y-Wings back in for Episode IX, and show them destroying a Xyston-class Destroyer, that’ll make them happy!

And sure, okay, giving the Resistance a fighter/bomber is probably a good idea. And they already have New X-Wings and New A-Wings, so where’s the harm in a New Y-Wing?

Alright, alright, sure. But why the fuck does it look like this?

If this is a new ship, why is it already stripped-down like the ones in the Original Trilogy? Why doesn’t it look like the actual brand-new Y-Wings we saw in The Clone Wars?

Now that’s more like it. Still visibly a Y-Wing, but with more of an identity of its own.

Seriously, “Literally the same ship but without its armour pulled off” has more of a unique identity than the crowd-pleasing New Y-Wing.

And that, in and of itself, is the essence of The Rise of Skywalker.

It’s blind, empty fanservice, rushing to include as much nostalgia-pandering as possible to try and get the fanbase back on-side after The Last Jedi didn’t do what the fanboys wanted it to do.

This is a whole near- three hour movie whose only message is “Yes, Youtubers making TFA critiques longer than an entire season of TCW, we hear you, we’ll make it for you, please love us!”

And, almost entirely predictably, it was shite.

It was riddled with plotholes and none of the scenes had any time to breathe because the movie was too desperately trying to rush itself to the next crowd-pleasing scene in a desperate attempt to wank off as many disgruntled fanboys as it possibly could.

Luke with his green saber! Jedi Leia! Chewie gets a medal! Lando! Luke raises his X-Wing out of the water! The main villain is a testicle in a bathrobe again! Snork origin! Original-flavour Star Destroyers! Rose doesn’t exist! Rey had a super-special secret magical bloodline the whole time and Luke and Leia totally knew even though Luke has literally no idea who she is in Episode VIII! Luke actually was just afraid of the bad guys in Episode VII, none of that self-imposed exile for his own mistakes nonsense! Y-Wings.

I mean fuck. Disagree with Luke’s portrayal in TLJ all you like, I certainly have my issues with it, but I lay those at the feet of JJ for making Luke’s absence into one of his fucking Mystery Boxes, and then deciding that, even though last time Luke sensed Leia and Han might be in danger, he abandoned his Jedi training, hopped in an X-Wing, and flew halfway across the galaxy to try and save them, he wouldn’t do shit when the First Order pointed a star-powered System-Killer 9000 at Leia, and Han got himself killed trying to redeem Kyle Ron. Like how in fuck was Rian supposed to explain Luke’s inaction in VII?

But regardless of the problems with that Luke portrayal, at least Mark Hamill gave it his all. Hell, it might be his best performance in the Star Wars franchise!

In TRoS, he shows up in a bad wig, waves a middle finger at TLJ, and ascends to his final form as a Lightsaber Delivery Boy, because apparently all you need to kill a Sith who literally clawed his way back from death is two lightsabers. Haunting Kyle Ron? Nope. Providing guidance as a ghost? Not really.

And y’know what the kicker is? It didn’t fucking work. Lucasfilm and Disney fucking gutted this trilogy, sliced out the integrity, surgically removed the soul of Episode IX in a desperate effort to make the Internet’s most unpleasable fanbase happy, and it didn’t work. They still hate it! Now they just concoct hour-long videos about how much they would’ve preferred to have the Trevorrow script (Which is admittedly much better, albeit still with it’s far share of giant flaws), which was probably thrown out because it wasn’t fanservicey enough!

The Rise of Skywalker is an awful film. It’s a loose collection of nostalgia-baiting moments, roughly stapled together around the skeleton of a plot that was never properly developed. It’s a Frankenstein’s Monster of a movie, but, and I say this with full offense, the Victor Frankenstein in this tragic story isn’t Lucasfilm or Disney or Kathleen Kennedy or Rian Johnson, or even JJ Abrams. It’s you, Star Wars Fandom. It is your monster.

#Star Wars #The Rise of Skywalker #Disney #Lucasfilm #Episode IX #Episode VIII #Episode VII #The Last Jedi #The Force Awakens #Y-Wing Starfighter #B-Wing Starfighter #MG-100 StarFortress

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lxveille · 3 years

Text

another love song

mk x reader

word count: ~ 2080 warnings: references to alcohol a/n: university!au; another ‘trying to get back into the feel of writing’ fic so... idk ?? tbh it’s more of a fic treatment but here’s what i’m posting anyway

Minkyun has gotten inspiration for his songs from you before. This one is different.

You’re nearly always the first person to place money into Minkyun’s open guitar case when he’s busking.

More often than not, he tries to return your money once he’s packed up for the afternoon - but you refuse, and tell him he earned it. Then he usually spends more on you than you gave by buying you bubble tea or coffee before the two of you trek back to campus.

You’re not sure what you’d do with your Saturday afternoons if not for him.

You’d met Minkyun in a literature class your first year of university. At first it had been easy to write him off as a high school class clown having some difficulty adjusting to university expectations. Except that sometimes, when your professor would really dig into the themes of a text, he’d have something to share that would stick with you. A thought - sometimes chaotically explained - that would rumble around in your brain for a week, even. Eventually, you decided a proper introduction was in order. A fatal mistake, if you’d hoped to keep up some aloof, studious front. He had a way of warming others up, it turned out. You discovered he was friends with a number of people with unfriendly faces who somehow transformed into lighthearted, open books in Minkyun’s presence.

You feel a little lighter around him, too.

And on the days you don’t, he invites you to unburden.

It became a common tableau: you sprawled out, exasperated, on the beanbag chair in his dorm room, ranting about anything that bothered you while he lay on his bed, half-propped up against the wall and strumming occasional notes on his guitar. A last complaint and a final chord, and then Minkyun would be on his feet with an idea of what the two of you should do to shake it out of your system for once and for all. Those plans only sometimes included just enough beer that the both of you were giddy and ready to laugh at anything.

If Minkyun had to name one good reason to get drunk with you, it was this: it was the only time you’d sing. The very first time you let yourself break into song in front of him had been at a bar. It had been difficult to make out your voice over the speakers, but Minkyun heard. Maybe more important, though, was the way you swayed your shoulders and rocked into each syllable.

He would tease sometimes that you ought to join him when he busked. He might make more with you joining in.

“Ah, but then you’d have to split it with me, too,” you’d reply. You assumed, at least, that he must be kidding.

It was spring the first time Minkyun asked you to listen to something original he’d composed. There was something personal about it that had never occurred to you when listening to a song before. For all the times you had watched him play, it was like looking at him from a new angle. Just as his commentary used to linger on your mind, his songs began to do the same.

And in the winter of your second year, he asked if it’d be okay to use some of your own rants as inspiration in songs.

“What?” you asked.

“Just - the way you talk about the guys you’re getting over, and stuff like that. It could make for good lyrics.”

“You’re going to quote me?”

“Well,” he lingered on the syllable, then broke into a dimpled smile. “No. But I don’t wanna take inspiration without telling you!”

So it happened that when he performed songs of his own, you sometimes began to recognize bits of your own infatuations and fallings outs weaved into his lyrics. The way he framed it, it usually made it easier to get over whoever had been behind the heartbreak.

Minkyun isn’t busking today. The drizzle is enough that it wouldn’t be worth it. All the same, he spent the better part of the morning sending you messages asking you to come over.

When you finally cave, you put on a front of unhappiness at the door, shaking out your umbrella before passing it over to his extended hand.

“I brought some stuff for my class so I can try to get work done like I’d planned,” you told him.

He pouted for dramatic flair. “So you’re really just gonna act like you’re at your room at mine?”

“That’s what we agreed to! I told you I wanna get this reading done so I can just be hungover tomorrow without having to worry about Monday’s lecture.”

“Damn, and people try to frame university drinkers as irresponsible.”

“What can I say? I’m flawless,” you comment dryly as you pass into his room.

“So you’re still going out even if the rain keeps up?” Minkyun asks. He settles into his usual spot near the foot of his mattress. You rummage through your bag for a textbook and your printed copy of the syllabus before finding a spot somewhere closer to the pillow.

“Mm,” you affirm, “I think I’m officially entirely over Seungcheol, so it’ll be good for me to go out.”

“Ahhh.” There’s something guttural and mischievous in the way he makes the sound. It’d be fair to expect some ribbing comment on how transparent you could be with these things. No such remark comes.

It’s some time later, when you’re nearly done with your assigned reading, that Minkyun announces that he finished a new song recently.

“Like one of your own?” you ask.

He nods, and adds how he’d been thinking of playing it out this weekend if it hadn’t been for the poor turn in weather.

You exaggerate a gasp. “You were going to share a song with a crowd before sharing it just with me?” There’s no real offence. It’s only a pattern that you’d noticed. Sometimes he’d say it felt needed, if only because he based part of the lyrics’ premise on your own experiences instead of his own.

“I know!” Minkyun laughs airly. “Mother nature said not to, I guess!”

“Well, are you going to play it now then?” You should tell him to wait until you’ve finished this chapter. That way you won’t entirely lose track of things. But you’re not infallible; and if there’s one thing you’re horrible at resisting it’s the chance to hear Minkyun play.

He hops up from the bed to fetch his guitar. And he plays.

It’s a love song, which doesn’t come as a surprise. Minkyun told you from the beginning - or at least when he first asked if he could take inspiration from your own heart’s tribulations - that he liked to write about that feeling. The good, the bad, or at the very least what he imagined of it.

This song doesn’t feel familiar. Usually you can tell when he’s written indirectly about your own affairs. So these endearing words, these syrupy lines of dedication, of patiently waiting for the other one to notice… They must be from his own experience.

A corner of your heart goes sour at that thought, and retorts that it might be one of his other friends. Devoted and hoping it won’t go unnoticed would be right up Yuto’s alley, you tell yourself as your search for a likely suspect. You don’t let yourself think too much on why you don’t want it to be Minkyun’s own feelings.

Except there’s something else that bothers you. The way he keeps his eyes on his strumming fingers, or closes them altogether.

Normally Minkyun looks at you now and then, and smiles at your reactions to his music. Even with the unhappy songs.

You squeeze the textbook in your lap. A corner digs into your palm. He’s somewhere in the second chorus and your mind is fogging over with an irritation. It’s not his fault. You’re not mad at him.

You just wish you had realized you want to fall in love with Minkyun sooner.

The last chord hangs in the air before you can fully process this thought. He looks at you expectantly.

“What do you think?” Minkyun asks.

You force a smile. “It’s sweet.”

He leaves space for you to elaborate. When you don’t, the corners of his lips drag down a bit. “Just sweet?” He repeats. “Is it lame?”

“No! It’s just - it’s different from some of your other stuff. But it’s sweet. I like it. I think, um… I just was expecting it to be something based on my whole recent back and forth thing. Since you wanted to play it for me,” you try to cover for your lackluster response.

Minkyun looks you over for a moment, then chuckles. “Not every song can be about your love life.”

“I know! Of course! Geez, that’s not what I meant,” you rush to say, loudly, as if you needed to cover the sound of some kind of fracture in your heart.

He leans forward to set his guitar carefully on the tiles, its neck leaning against the bed frame. “I guess that’s not totally accurate to say here though.” He shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes as he looks your way again.

“...What?”

“Ah… You’re pretty clueless, huh?” Minkyun sounds content with himself, and he’s barely holding back a grin.

“I’ve never gone on like that about someone.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You eye him over a few times quickly, trying to reach a conclusion that feels safe. All you can theorize for sure is that he’s practiced this all, and somehow it’s going to plan. Maybe. “What are you on about?” you ask, tone turning suspicious.

He laughs more fully now, then shifts his position to face you directly from the other end of his duvet. “You.”

You glance around him like this could be some hidden camera prank. “What?”

“You,” Minkyun repeats, “It’s about you.”

In the most foolish move of the day, you suddenly felt your throat dry out the same way it does before you cry. It must have been too much at once: to realize a desire and think it ripped away only to have it suddenly offered up so easily, so soon.

“You’re not serious.”

“Is it bad if I am?” he asks, leaning to the right a bit as he watches your reaction. You press your palm to your clavicle, trying to get your heart and your mind in sync. “Am serious, I mean.”

All you can manage is a shake of your head.

Minkyun grins bright and leans forward to put a hand over the one still at your side. “You really didn’t notice?” He pulls off incredulous and teasing in one go. If you weren’t so off kilter, you might want to scold him for it somehow.

“What was I supposed to know?” You ask instead.

He shakes his head. For a fleeting instant, you worry he’s about to brush the whole thing aside. That worry is killed pretty quickly when he leans closer instead and delicately presses an experimental kiss against your lips.

Minkyun is back to his side of the bed in the next moment, nearly like it hadn’t happened at all.

Your hand lifts from your clavicle to allow your fingers to brush over your own lips, still tingly with the affection. Or maybe just from his lip balm rubbing off on you.

He gives you a second more before asking, “Still okay?”

“Um, yeah.”

His smile returns. “Still going out to find someone new tonight?”

“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and accuse, “You’re the worst.”

“So… is that a yes, you are?”

He knows it isn’t.

He’s spent all this time getting to know you. Now he gets to be the one on the receiving end of that look in your eyes.

“Would you stop that?” You muster up as much of a snip in your voice as you can. Your gaze gives away that you’re not really annoyed. It would be difficult to be, given the way your head is still spinning from his confession.

“Stop what?”

The smile on his face suggests he already knows. Nevertheless, you don’t give Minkyun the satisfaction of admitting he’s teasing you. “Just kiss me again,” you swerve to a demand. Frankly, it’s the main thing you’d been thinking since the first. You’ll figure out the rest of your feelings later.

For now, Minkyun is hardly going to deny you that.

#onf scenarios #onf imagines #mk x reader #park minkyun imagine #onf fanfic

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simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

Our Little Secret

↝ Only a few months into your new relationship with one of your closest friends, you and Kaminari try your hardest to hide your secret from your friends who seem to see that something’s up.

BINGO SPACE: Movie Marathon

⋆ PAIRING: kaminari x reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: just some kaminari fluff :) ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1752

A/N: is this another @bnhabookclub bingo piece? Yes because i’m just trying to write as many as i can before the deadline. this is my second time writing for kaminari and i’m still trying to get used to writing for his character so again please forgive me if this was ass. thank you to the anon who requested kaminari for this prompt!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 07.28.2020✐

“Will you hurry up already? You know those idiots are going to start the movie without us if we’re late!” Mina exclaimed by the doorframe of your room, her pillow and a blanket in each arm as she was patiently waiting for you.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you replied, grabbing your own things and making your way out. “You don’t have to shout.”

Mina playfully rolled her eyes as you both made your way out and turned the corner. “Please, you love me no matter how much I annoy you.”

You grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

Finals had just ended for the students in U.A. High and you and your friends were more than ready to laze around and relax for a change. You had worked your ass off in order to get a decent grade so you definitely knew that you wanted to spend some quality time with your friends to get your mind off of how stressful exam season can be.

“What took you guys so long?” Sero asked from the common area of the dorm building.

Mina dropped her pillow down onto the ground, looking up at you. “Hm, I wonder why…”

You stuck her tongue out at her, placing your own pillow and blanket to the floor by the sofa. Kirishima, Sero, and now Mina were getting the movie ready and Bakugou was sitting on the sofa behind you. You turned to him, raising your brows at him in shock. “I’m surprised you’re here, Bakugou. Don’t you usually go to sleep at this time?”

Bakugou scoffed at you, his eyes glaring forward to the TV screen. “Exams are over so I can do whatever the fuck I want. Plus I’m not staying for long, not when you dumbasses are gonna drive me insane for the whole movie.”

“Oh, come on, Kacchan, you know you love hanging with us!” Kaminari piped up, entering the common area. He plopped down onto the sofa beside Bakugou, throwing his arm over his shoulder to which Bakugou, who was almost disgusted, pushed him off. He rose to his feet, sitting on the sofa on the opposite side to get away from his annoying friend.

You giggled as Kaminari dropped his pillow beside you on the floor. “Way to drive him away, Kami.”

“I didn’t want him so close to us.” He sat himself down beside you, resting his arm on the sofa which so happened to be right by your shoulders. “And I told you to call me Denki.” His voice was lowered as he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You shoved his shoulder lightly. “You know I can’t say that, everyone will catch on.”

With your time in U.A. you had made many friends within your class. Kirishima, Sero, Bakugou, Mina, and Kaminari clicked with you immediately, especially since all of you had a common goal of irritating Bakugou as much as you possibly could. The closer you became with your friends, you grew even closer with Kaminari. He never failed to brighten your day, making you laugh and laugh till your stomach hurt. Somewhere along the way you developed feelings for him and he did as well for you and he managed to smooth talk his way into asking you out.

It had only been a few months since you had started dating Kaminari but you decided to keep the relationship a secret. Dating within friend groups can be weird, especially since most people don’t want to date their friends in fear of ruining the relationship or making things awkward for everyone in the group. You were fearful that your friends would treat you and Kaminari differently, not to mention it hadn’t been long since Kaminari asked you out and you wanted to test the waters out first before breaking it to everyone.

Initially Kaminari couldn’t understand why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret and he knew you better than to believe you were doing so because you were ashamed to be dating him or anything. But as time progressed, he enjoyed having private and intimate moments with you while no one realized what was going on. You’d sneak kisses in the locker room when no one was looking or even hold hands behind your friends’ backs while walking to the dorm building. It was nerve wracking but also exhilarating at the same time.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Kaminari asked, leaning his face in closer to yours.

You became flustered from the proximity of his body with your own, your eyes darting over to make sure your friends weren’t watching. Bakugou was scrolling aimlessly through his phone and Kirishima, Sero, and Mina were still preoccupied with setting up the TV to notice. Nevertheless, you jabbed your elbow to his side as a warning.

“We got it ready!” Mina exclaimed, settling onto her spot on the floor.

“About time. Why’d it take all three of you to start a movie?” Bakugou said curtly.

“Oh, come on, man, you don’t have to be like that,” Kirishima said lightly, sitting down next to him.

“Which movie are we on now?” You asked Sero who sat on Kaminari’s other side.

“‘Thor: The Dark World,’” Sero responded. You and your friends decided to go on a Marvel movie marathon, wanting to watch all the movies in chronological order since the release of the last Avengers movie.

“This movie fucking sucks,” Bakugou muttered as the first scene played.

“Well it’s still a Marvel movie so we’ve got no choice but to watch it,” Kirishima replied.

The movie continued to play and Bakugou was right: the movie wasn’t as good as the other movies in the franchise. Sero and Kaminari’s snide remarks in between the movie made the experience more enjoyable but in the middle Bakugou decided to go back to his room as he became tired while watching. Sero, Mina, and Kirishima grouped together, adding their own commentary as the movie progressed.

You were sitting up, your pillow against the bottom of the sofa holding you upright with the blanket draped over your body and Kaminari’s arm snaked around your body, pulling you closer to him. You swatted at his hand, glancing over to your friends who were fortunately preoccupied with the screen to pay attention to the tomfoolery occurring behind them.

“Denki, you can’t,” you hissed as your voice fell to a whisper.

“But I can,” Kaminari urged, using his other hand to lift your chin up so that your eyes were staring back into his golden ones. “I like seeing you panic like that. It’s cute.”

You narrowed your brows at him, standing to your feet. “I’m gonna get some water from my room,” you announced to your friends who nodded, not bothering to look back at you.

Kaminari watched as you walked away and gave him a look that practically said “come and follow me” to which he nearly jolted to his feet. He didn’t bother uttering an excuse like you had, simply making sure his friends weren’t paying attention to him, which they weren’t.

You walked down the hall and stopped right outside your room, turning around and facing Kaminari who was right on your tracks. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist, guiding your body against the wall so he was hovering right over you. “God, you look even cuter like this than you did over there.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, hooking your arms around his neck. “Just shut up and kiss me, will you?”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as Kaminari urgently brought his lips down to yours, pulling your figure closer to him as your lips moved against his. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you were convinced your boyfriend could feel the rhythm of your heart as your chests were pressed against each other.

At this point in your relationship you felt comfortable with revealing it to your friends but something about the secrecy of it all made you feel a rush of adrenaline. Especially in moments like these where small moments could leave you hot and bothered. You desperately wanted to focus on Kaminari and only Kaminari, completely forgetting that you were quite literally out in the open.

“What the fuck?!” You and Kaminari pulled away from each other, eyes widening at the sight of Bakugou distraught at the sight of two of his closest friends making out with one another right in front of him. You wanted to mentally smack yourself, forgetting that your room was right across from his.

“You idiots are dating?” Bakugou asked, blinking rapidly as he looked between you and Kaminari.

“Yeah… we’ve been dating for three months now,” Kaminari said, rubbing his neck as he laughed sheepishly.

Bakugou didn’t say anything, a disgusted look on his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“It’s just fucking weird… that you two managed to hide something from us, especially since dunce face is the biggest dumbass I know.”

“Dude, that’s just rude!” Kaminari whined, glaring at his friend.

“So… are you going to tell the others?” You asked, wanting to know exactly what Bakugou was going to do from here.

“Honestly I want to fucking gouge my eyes out so I don’t ever have to see that shit again. I just wanted some water and I got to see you two shove your fucking tongues down each other’s throats. I don’t give a damn what you do as long as I got nothing to do with it,” Bakugou said plainly, walking past you and Kaminari to the water fountain.

You both watched Bakugou as he proceeded down the hall, chuckling as his shoulders quaked as he was visibly shuddering due to the ordeal he encountered.

You poked your boyfriend’s stomach. “This is what happens when you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Kaminari smirked as he looked back at you. “I didn’t hear you complaining though, did I?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to laugh. “Guess our little secret’s been found out.”

Kaminari laughed along with you. “To be honest, I don’t know why we had one in the first place.”

Needless to say, you and Kaminari decided from that moment on to share your hidden relationship with the rest of your friends. All the times you spent sneaking around would come to an end but at the end of it all, you couldn’t remember why you kept your relationship a secret in the first place.

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Taglist: @pinkcowgirleggpanda @xtsundere-princess @wesparklebitch @hot-pocket01 @iamthe-leaf @ahrinine @kirisclementine @happygalaxymilkshake @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @entraptas-kid-sister @icy-hot @lmaobroccoli @anastar-legion @lowermoons @mykuronekome @susu-chan

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #bnha x reader

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

Text

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (10/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9]

The play wasn't horrible by any stretch of the imagination. It was the most fun Clarke had had in a long time. She laughed so hard at parts that tears sprung to her eyes and her cheeks started to hurt by the end of it. The 1920s décor and costumes were stunning, the performances captivating, and the story the perfect balance between humor and social commentary. Even Lexa, who already knew the jokes and twists, still laughed loudly.

Clarke took as much joy from the sound as she did the play. When the curtain fell for the last time and the lights fully came on, she looked over at Lexa and found herself captivated. Lexa was still clapping for her cousin’s success, her face beaming with pride, and Clarke couldn’t really explain why it made her adore this woman so much more.

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked her.

Clarke nodded mutely, unsure what to do with the intensity of her feelings. She let Lexa take her hand and lead her out of the theater, where the crowd spilled out of the great glass doors.

Cocoa Street was the longest street in Costial, cutting through the city in a curving fashion. Clarke's favorite part was the food trucks; rows of them on both sides with their own specialties and flair. You could very well order duck à l'orange with mashed pumpkin at one truck and a burger with fries at the next one. The Italian ice cream truck was between the rival crab cake trucks and the Noodle Brothers were right next to the Pizza Sisters. There were lines wherever you went, sometimes even street performers to soften the blow of the waiting time. It was absurd and it was wonderful.

They ate Chicago-style hot dogs and curly fries, slowly walking down the street as they laughed about the play. Lincoln had relied on alternate history to weave the visions into his tale, using them for comedic effect in the more dramatic beats. A secondary character had one in the middle of a monologue, suddenly passing out while a crowd rushed over to him. The visions were reenacted with tricks of light and masked characters, reminiscent of interpretive dances.

"Okay, I have to ask," Clarke brought up while they meandered down the street. "The castle on the hill - that's the Polis Hotel, right?"

Lexa nodded. "Lincoln has a complicated relationship with his heritage, to say the least. He's keenly aware growing up in a luxury hotel was a great privilege, but it also messed with his head. He basically shared a home with thousands of strangers for eighteen years."

"I'd always admired Polis from afar, but I can't imagine growing up there. Don't get me wrong, that was one hell of a party, but-"

"It's not a place for a kid," Lexa finished, in agreement.

Clarke ate the last bite of her chocolate waffle and threw the paper in the trash. “You must be pretty familiar with it.”

Lexa glanced at her and smiled. "The cat and I go back."

"Right. That night was a bit intense, even for you."

Lexa let out a laugh, looking away with a hum. "You know, you make me sound quite strange."

Clarke bumped her shoulder. "You pinned me against the staircase - you are strange."

"I didn't… pin you," Lexa replied with a huff. "I was drunk, high off an excellent game of poker… and I saw you. And I needed to be close to you."

Clarke stopped them in the street, grateful they'd left the busy part. "And the Gazette?"

“What about it?”

"You offered me a side job. Just like that."

"Oh," Lexa remembered. "I genuinely thought you'd be good at it. Still do. Your style would be perfect."

That was surprising, but Clarke wasn't convinced. "It wasn't because of your vision?"

"It was a way to talk to you, yes, but I meant it. I know the visions were… well, the reason for this, that they nudged us together, but I'd noticed you drawing before."

They walked a bit further before Clarke took a small breath. "I, uh, may have looked at the pages in older prints."

Lexa glanced at her. "And?"

"It could be fun. I'm just not sure-" Clarke scrunched her nose. "I'm just so rusty. Art is what I got into college for, but then I took up business classes and… I don't know, it just felt so much easier. Don't get me wrong, managing the café kicks my ass every day, but I like the challenges. With drawings, paintings, whatever… it feels like putting your heart on the line each time. And nine times out of ten, your heart ends up getting trampled."

Lexa took her hand to stop her. "I would never suggest you do something that makes you uncomfortable. If it's truly just a hobby to you, a way to pass the time, you should keep it that way."

It wasn't like Clarke hadn't considered it. Drawing, sketching; it came as naturally as breathing. She'd done it since she could hold a pencil and she still did it whenever the world became too loud. It was an escape; a different way of thinking. Her own little world. Illustrating short stories could be a welcome breath of fresh air. A way for her brain to snap away from bills, calls, deliveries, and the hundreds of post-its in her tiny office.

"And for the record," Lexa added as she stepped closer, her voice impossibly soft, "I would very much stand in the way of whoever or whatever would try to trample you."

Clarke grinned, very much aware that, not so long ago, these were not words she could have ever imagined Lexa Woods telling her.

* * *

As she had the last time, Lexa insisted that she walk Clarke back to her apartment. After a night full of laughs, great food, and Lexa's hand in hers, Clarke still didn't have her fill and so didn't tease Lexa too much for also wanting to enjoy every last second. When they made it to her door, Clarke turned around and leaned against it. Tonight couldn't end here.

"By the way, you were wrong earlier. My vision isn't the reason for this." Clarke waited a beat before playing her last hand: "It's not the vision I thought about that night after the rooftop."

Lexa's mouth parted open and she glanced at Clarke's lips.

"I was going to," Clarke continued, "but it didn't hold a candle to how you made me feel when you grabbed my hand."

Lexa swallowed when Clarke reached for her jacket to tug her closer. "How did I make you feel?"

Clarke pulled her in until their foreheads touched. "Warm. Dizzy."

"Dizzy on a rooftop? That's a safety hazard."

"Are you trying to turn me on or are you trying to make me laugh?"

"They're not mutually exclusive."

They broke into laughter anyway. Lexa leaned in to kiss her, only to stop just as their lips brushed.

"You never told me about your vision," Lexa pointed out. "Not… not exactly."

Clarke smiled, smug. "Oh you want details, hm?"

"I'm a journalist. A thorough account would be nice, yes."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her before crushing their lips together, unbelievably pleased when Lexa moaned and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Shut up, journo," Clarke husked between kisses.

Lexa kissed her with little restraint then, moving until Clarke was pressed against the door. Each one of Lexa's kisses felt like something special; like finally she'd shed her old fears. Clarke didn't even want to think of not being close to Lexa right now. The night couldn't end - not like this. She pulled back and gazed at Lexa, trying to catch her breath.

This close, Clarke could commit to memory every detail of her face. She'd always thought she got a good look at Lexa at the café, even with the counter between them, but it was nothing compared to this. Lexa's lips were full and at their most tempting when slightly parted, betraying her own desire. Her eyes were hooded now, longing, and Clarke had little doubt hers reflected the same want. She threw caution to the wind:

"Come inside?"

Lexa hesitated, visibly torn.

"We don't have to do anything. I have a nice wine we can try. Some of Gus's tartlets left over. We can even sit with the box between us. I just… I don't want tonight to be over yet."

* * *

It was not what she'd had in mind. She swore it. Nevertheless, when Clarke found herself straddling Lexa on her living room couch with the box of tartlets discarded on the floor (the tartlets well finished by then), she couldn't remember why the hell not.

Maybe the air had already been too charged by the time she wiped her thumb over Lexa's lip to catch a crumb there, and maybe Clarke had liked playing with fire, but now she was well on her way to being burned. Lexa's hands palmed her ass while they kissed, but it was the boldest she allowed herself to be and Clarke was quickly reaching her breaking point.

"Touch me," she pleaded between kisses.

Lexa let out a choked moan when Clarke reached for her hand and guided it to her breasts. She paused, looking up. The green in her eyes had darkened, especially in the dim light, and she breathed deeply.

"Clarke…"

"I know, I know, just - something. Anything." Clarke leaned her forehead against Lexa's. "I feel like a fucking teenager."

Lexa let out a small laugh before kissing her sweetly, slowly. It had the soothing effect she had intended, and before Clarke realized it, Lexa had lied her down on her back. She hovered over her, then looked down at her cleavage and pressed her lips against the exposed skin.

"Is that better?" She asked.

"Close…"

Lexa let out a hum against her skin, pressing another kiss lower. Clarke brushed her fingers in Lexa's thick hair, digging just slightly in her scalp, surprised when Lexa let out a small moan and then froze with wide eyes, like Clarke had just found her secret.

"Oh," Clarke breathed out, her smile widening. She repeated the gesture, pressing her fingers just a bit harder.

Lexa immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them down on each side of Clarke's head.

"Don't do that," she warned her, breathless.

Clarke smirked. "I think I will."

"It was just a reflex," Lexa blushed. "It's been a while."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, happiness bubbling in her chest at how comfortable she felt with Lexa's body slotted between her legs. "Well, I'm very happy to find out whatever draws out those sounds from you."

Lexa seemed to realize just how close they were, locked together with their fingers entwined. And just like the rooftop when she'd suddenly grabbed her hand, her expression changed. Confident. Eager.

She sat back, eyes trailing down Clarke's body before she let go of her hands to touch her thighs.

"You like control, don't you, Clarke?" She asked. She ran her hands up her thighs, caressing them slowly. "But not now."

Clarke nearly lost her breath, not expecting the way Lexa had shifted so quickly from embarrassed to self-assured. She watched as Lexa drank her in, from her bunched up dress to the fast rise and fall of her chest.

"Touch yourself," Lexa told her, and then leaned down to brush her lips against hers. "The way you did after the rooftop."

"Lexa-"

"I want to watch you."

Clarke nodded, her hand trailing down her own body to the bottom of her dress. Lexa watched as she reached beneath the fabric, eager to follow her command. She slid her hand beneath her tights, beneath her underwear, moaning at the relief when she finally touched herself. She knew Lexa could feel her heat; knew they were both reaching a point of no return. It had started when Lexa had kissed her at the start of their date, but Lexa's hands on her ass while they'd kissed had awakened her completely.

Lexa briefly glanced between their bodies, groaning when she saw Clarke's hand moving.

"Is this how you did it?" She asked. "Two fingers?"

Clarke let out an obscene moan, too far gone to care. "Three," she whimpered.

Lexa's jaw clenched, but her control was remarkable. "Did you imagine it on the rooftop? Me inside you against that wall?"

Clarke's eyes squeezed shut as she bit down on her lip. "Yes. Fuck."

She swiped her fingers over her clit, but the angle and her tights restricted most of her movements. She was fairly certain Lexa knew it. Lexa leaned down again, kissing her neck.

"How did I fuck you?" She asked by her ear, one hand reaching up to lightly brush against her breast.

Clarke panted, fighting the unbearable need to penetrate herself. She needed release, and fast, but a part of her was too stubborn to give in just yet.

"You pressed me against the wall," she revealed, burying her face in Lexa's neck. With her free hand, she dug her nails in Lexa's ass, feeling a thrill when Lexa bucked against her. "And then- I… I needed more. I needed you deeper."

"So I turned you around," Lexa guessed, squeezing her nipple over the fabric of her dress.

"I- oh, fuck, I couldn't stop thinking about you inside me; how well you'd fill me," Clarke said, her middle finger trembling from the angle, desperate to inch inside herself.

"Jesus, Clarke," Lexa breathed out in the space between her neck and shoulder. Her lips felt like heaven against her skin. Clarke couldn't get enough.

"Clarke," Lexa repeated, raising her head. "Look at me." It was softer then, more of a plea.

Clarke opened her eyes and felt her movements slow down. It was like experiencing déjà-vu, except of course that was impossible. They'd never done this. But she suddenly realized it had all started here. She'd had her vision on this very couch and here she was - not fulfilling it, exactly, but close. Yet what she'd seen and even felt had never been like this. It had been purely physical - an erotic thrill in her otherwise predictable life. But she hadn't felt her heart beating out of her chest. She'd had a sense it was more intimate than what she was used to, but hadn't been able to quite grasp what that meant. She knew now. Their intensity wasn't so much physical as it was emotional.

She felt safe with Lexa. They still had so much to learn about each other, but she felt safe. And Clarke had never realized the importance of it. Lexa had trusted her with her pain and her heart - that wasn't something Clarke took lightly. It was a feeling not even her vision could have conveyed.

"Fuck, wait, wait, stop," she abruptly panted, pulling her hand out of her underwear.

Lexa backed away immediately, but Clarke sat up to stop her from moving off the couch.

"Lexa, I… I want to be with you," she said, as if remembering her vision had suddenly clarified everything. "When you're ready, I want to be with you completely."

"I want that too." Lexa still seemed confused, or maybe surprised Clarke had done the equivalent of dunking ice cold water atop her own head.

“Right. And - this is fun. I-” Clarke’s eyes briefly closed as she bit her lip. “Fuck I really want to get off-”

Lexa smiled.

“-but not like this.” Clarke reached out to cup her cheeks. “Not without you.” She kissed Lexa briefly, barely a brush of lips, and watched as her eyes followed her every move so tenderly. “Not if I don’t get to touch you too.”

"Clarke…"

Clarke shook her head, kissing her way down Lexa's jaw and neck. "Not if I can't see all of you. Can't hear you moan my name." She licked over Lexa's pulse, enjoying the way her hips bucked against her. "Not if I can't taste you while you come undone."

Lexa pulled back and brushed away some of Clarke's wild strands of hair. "Such words… You should be a journalist."

"I hear they have egos."

"Oh yes, terrible."

"I'm glad I found one that's not so bad then."

They smiled at each other, then took a breath.

"Sorry," Clarke sighed. "I feel like I'm the one giving you whiplash now."

"No, it's only fair. If anything I admire your restraint."

Clarke leaned back against the arm of the couch. "Maybe you'll just have to work harder next time."

Lexa smirked. "I can do that." She glanced at her breasts. "At least I made new friends."

Clarke let out a laugh, enamored. "Alright, well, you and my tits can pick up this conversation another time. I need a shower and if you're not gone in two minutes, I'm definitely dragging you in with me."

Lexa hummed in agreement.

After Clarke walked her to the entrance and watched Lexa put on her shoes and jacket, they lingered in the doorway.

"Thank you for tonight," Clarke said. She had never felt like this before - a part of her desperate to find a way for Lexa to stay. A way to prolong the conversation. To ward off the night so that Lexa and her could just live in this moment a while longer. "The play, the food, this… Everything."

She hoped Lexa felt the same.

"Trust me, it was my pleasure," Lexa replied, her face still slightly flushed.

"You've set the bar high."

"You took me to a secret hike. I was just trying to catch up."

At Clarke's smile, Lexa bit her lip and toyed with the button of her jacket. "Anya used to say I reacted to everything with either fight or flight. I didn't prove her wrong when I left for Costial, but I don't want to run away again."

Clarke nodded in understanding.

“It just… creeps up on me sometimes,” Lexa continued. “I could be having the time of my life one second and the next my chest gets tighter and the world gets smaller. Suffocating.” She gave her a resolute look. “When I meant slow, I meant… I just need to be sure that feeling won’t come between us again." She glanced at her lips. "But… It also means that once we do cross that line, I intend to make up for lost time.”

Clarke swallowed, fighting the urge to drag Lexa back inside. "I'm a patient woman."

Lexa smiled. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Mm. Text me when you get home?"

"I will."

[part eleven]

#clexa #f: a bit of clarity #w #can you believe these two

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theweasleyslytherin · 3 years

Text

i knew you (ron weasley x reader) part 10

part 1/masterlist

summary: Ron inexplicably broke up with Cassiah Black just days before their final year at Hogwarts, leaving them both with broken hearts and no future plans, but too stubborn and too proud to fix things. The centuries-old rivalry between their Gryffindor and Slytherin houses only make things worse, and friendships are truly put to the test. Will they find their way back together before the year ends, or will the end of their time at Hogwarts be the last time they ever see the each other?

warnings: drug/alcohol use

CHAPTER 10 - cleaning up bottles with you

But I knew you, dancing in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight I knew you, hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better

cardigan, Taylor Swift _____________________________

This chapter is going to be an absolute monster, so get ready to read! xx

Ron and Cassiah's first attempt to hang out as friends went swimmingly, thanks partially to the presence of Seamus, who filled in any awkward silences with his running commentary and diffused any tension without even knowing.

From what the trio of giggling idiots observed from their hiding place under the window, Neville's date with Luna had also gone really well. Cassiah thought it was adorable how he seemed to have a confidence around Luna that she had never seen him have with anyone else. Of course, he was still sweet and shy and bashful, but he was also entirely himself and comfortable.

When she got home from her friend-date with Ron and Seamus that night, Draco and Pansy were both in the common room. Part of her wanted to leave them alone, knowing that Draco really wanted to progress things between them towards more than just friendship, but the day had been way too eventful for her to just go to bed without talking or analyzing it with her friends. Having Ron come up to her in the library and asking her to hang out was the last thing she had expected, and she was sure her friends would feel the same.

"Hey guys," she called out, announcing her presence so that the two had a chance to move a bit farther away on the couch. Draco had a smug look on his face that mirrored Pansy's. The two of them really were two sides of the same coin.

"Hey Cass," Pansy grinned, patting the newly formed space between her and Draco on the couch, "Come sit!"

Cassiah smiled back smally and plopped down between her two friends. She sighed really heavily and buried her face in her hands, shaking her head exasperatedly. "Oh my god," she muttered to herself before finally resurfacing and facing her friends, "You're never going to believe what happened today."

"Something with Weasley?" Draco asked cautiously.

Cassiah frowned at him, slightly pissed that some of the shock of the story was gone now, "How did you know that?" She shook her head again, clearing her thoughts, "Anyway, though. Yeah. He came up to me in the library and apologized for everything, and then I apologized, and then he said he still cares about me!"

Draco's jaw dropped, and he laughed in amusement, "Merlin, that is not what I thought you were going to say. So, are you two back together or–"

Cassiah shrunk back in her seat a bit, feeling small, and Draco stopped talking.

"Oh, I'm sor-"

"It's okay," Cassiah rushed a little bit too much to reassure him, "We decided we are going to try to be friends, and so I just got back from spending the whole afternoon with him and Seamus."

She told them all the details of their day of hanging out, but left out the way she still felt her heart melt when he looked her in the eye, or the way it made her feel slightly sick to her stomach when he no longer instinctually wrapped his arm around her or jokingly grabbed at her butt – all of the little things that had made them Ron-and-Cassie that no longer were. Now they were just Ron, and Cassie – two separate entities. She would give anything to go back to the way things were.

Pansy seemed to be really happy for Cassiah, her eyes gleaming as she listened to the stories about the trip to Hogsmeade and Neville and Luna's date, but there was a look in Draco's eyes that made Cassiah feel uneasy. She couldn't bring herself to meet the weight of his gaze.

"Pansy," he said once the girls had finished their gushing. The short-haired girl was seemingly unaware of the growing tension in the room, or the way Cassiah's demeanor had been shifting Draco had continued to say nothing. He put a gentle hand on Pansy's shoulder and looked at her with that commanding Malfoy look in his eye, " Would you give me and Cassiah a moment?"

Pansy frowned and scoffed at him, "Yeah, right. Very funny, Malfoy."

"Pansy, please give us a moment alone."

"And why should I do that?"

Draco stared at her, their eyes locked in a battle for power until after what seemed like forever, Pansy finally diverted her gaze. "Okay, fine," she huffed, grabbing her bag and heading out of the room, calling a goodbye to Cassiah over her shoulder. "I'm really happy for you Cass," she smiled softly.

Now it was Draco and Cassiah's turn to sit in silence until Pansy's footsteps faded away.

Cassiah couldn't stand the tension anymore, and she frowned at him. "What is the matter, Draco?"

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his cropped platinum hair. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way," he explained cautiously, "But do you... Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Handle what?" Cassiah questioned, but she already knew the answer, and Draco knew it too.

"C'mon, Cass."

She let out a shaky breath. Truth be told, she hadn't had time to stop and fully consider what being friends with Ron would mean for her. Sure, she had felt relieved just being in his presence again, and had felt some heartache at the way things had changed, but she hadn't really taken a moment to process what this would be like longterm. It was actually a very Ron-like approach to the situation – usually she was the one who sat back and pondered every possible consequence of her actions. This time, however, she was so desperate to have him in her life again, that she hadn't considered what "friends" really implied.

Draco's voice broke her out of her reverie: "I mean, if you think that you and Ron can go back to being friends the way you were before, that's great. But I know you, Cass, and I know just how serious things were between the two of you. Can you really just forget it all?"

"Maybe I don't want to forget!" Cassiah fired back a bit too loudly, her heart beating out of her chest. Draco flinched.

He spoke carefully into the silence, her voice seeming to echo through the common room. "You don't mean..."

Cassiah ducked her head in shame. She hadn't realized it until now, but maybe she'd suggested being friends to Ron because in her mind, it was the first step on the path to winning him back. It was easier to make him realize how perfect they were for each other if they were friends than if they weren't speaking at all. If they were friends, he couldn't forget. And she couldn't stand the ide of him forgetting how things were being the two of them. Merlin knows she can't.

"N-No," she stuttered, embarrassed at being exposed for her true intentions, "I care about Ron and what's best for him. If this is all he can handle between the two of us for now, then that's what I'll do."

"Uh huh. What's best for Ron..." Draco replied. It was the simplest response, and yet his tone implied that there was a lot more that he wasn't saying. Cassiah knew Draco well enough to know that he wouldn't tell her even if she asked, but she still couldn't help but wonder...

___________

The week flew by quickly for Ron. It was crazy how much just having Cassiah back in his life had brightened his mood and lifted a weight off his shoulders. He had hated feeling like strangers. Now he could say hello to her in the dining hall, or chat with her before their classes together began. She even joined him and Dean and Neville for dinner one night. It felt good having the Slytherin girl at the Gryffindor table with him again – just like old times.

On Wednesday, he'd received an Owl from Fred and George telling him – not asking – that they were coming to visit him for the weekend and that he'd better be ready to show them a good time as his guests. He'd immediately been ecstatic; He and his brothers had always done everything together at Hogwarts, and being here without them the past few months just hadn't felt the same. He knew that he would have to throw an absolute rager if he was going to even come close to the parties that they used to throw in their time at the school.

He and Harry decided that they'd throw the party in the Room of Requirement on Saturday night after the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, fully anticipating having a win to celebrate. Ravenclaw house, they said, could still come despite their impending loss. In fact, anyone was invited who wanted come – even Slytherins, though they doubted they would. Ron wanted this to be the biggest party of the year to impress the twins, and he knew Harry felt the same way, as he'd always looked up to them, too.

Friday night, Ron came up to the Slytherin tables at dinner and personally invited Cassiah and her friends to the table. That was pretty big of him, he thought, considering the bad blood between him and Malfoy and his friends, but it was for Cassiah's sake. He knew she'd feel uncomfortable if he excluded her friends right in their faces, and he really wanted her to come. This was going to be the first party they went to post-breakup as friends. He even invited her to the pregame in his and Harry's dorm (he didn't invite Malfoy or anyone else to that, though).

As he headed back to the dorms, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of drunk Cassie he'd see the next night. It really was entirely unpredictable. Sometimes the alcohol wouldn't hit her no matter how much she drank, and she'd be practically sober the entire night. She'd drink him under the table and laugh at him as he did his haphazard cartwheels around the room and told all his friends how much he loved them after a few drinks. Those used to be the nights when they were unstoppable pong partners, and they'd come back to his dorm and eat junk food naked in bed and have dreamy drunk sex before passing out.

Other times, seemingly at random, she'd get knocked on her ass, absolutely obliterated. Those were the nights when she'd dance and scream songs at the top of her lungs, and grind up against him so shamelessly while other people watched jealously. She was crazy and while sometimes she was difficult to control, Ron loved her for it. They would be the fun couple, spinning around and around in the Gryffindor common room under the colored lights, exchanging sloppy kisses and falling all over each other. On those nights, Cassiah would suddenly be best friends with every single person in the room, playing pong with a random seventh year guy or chatting with some girl she'd never seen before in her life, and Ron loved to watch her sparkle. There was something so magical about her when she wasn't worried about what people were thinking for once. He had always wished she could be like that all the time.

He'd escort her back to her room and she'd be practically dancing down the hallway, a solo cup full of liquor she stole hidden underneath her jacket. A goofy grin spread across his face as he remembered one specific night from the beginning of sixth year when she'd pulled her drink and chugged it right in front of prefects that were patrolling the hallway. She was bloody crazy when she was drunk sometimes, so different now that they were older now than the quiet girl he'd met first year. She was his crazy.

If he remembered correctly, he'd yacked in the Slytherin girl's bathroom that night and she'd drunkenly nursed him back to health even though she was deathly afraid of vomit.

He wondered what tomorrow night would hold.

As he approached his dorm he shared with the other seventh year guys, he heard lively chatter that wasn't typical of this time of the day. It was seemingly chaotic. What the bloody hell was going on in there?

When Ron entered the room, his question was immediately answered.

"Ronald!" Fred and George both crowed, extended their arms in a warm welcome.

Ron picked up the pace, rushing across the room to greet his brothers.

"Hey!" he answered, smiling widely but slightly exasperated, "What's all the excitement about?"

"Besides our very presence?" Fred joked, raising an eyebrow.

"We were giving the boys a sample of our new line," answered George, gesturing to the boxes literring all the surfaces in the room. "Now, if everyone could give us a moment with the baby brother, we'd appreciate it."

Ron blushed crimson and swatted his brother in the arm for referring to him as a baby, but couldn't help but smile anyways, especially as he noticed his favorite mischievous look in the twins' eyes.

Fred smirked at him. "We were about to go see Hagrid and pick up some stuff, if you care to join?" he offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You know I'm in, Freddie," Ron answered immediately, "Let's get away from all these bumbling idiots, yeah?" He grinned. It felt good to have more of his family around. Sure, Ginny was here, and they got up to plenty of their own misadventures, but he always felt a vague sense of duty to protect her and be a good role model for her. That certainly had never been the dynamic with the twins. They were never interested in being a role model for Ron; they were interested in corrupting him, and he was definitely interested in being corrupted.

The three Weasley boys departed from the dorm and began the long trek down to Hagrid's hut. They chatted quietly for a while about the shop and their parents, and more than once ended up pushing and shoving each other playfully into the dirt.

"Why are you still buying from Hagrid?" questioned Ron as they approached the hut, "Surely you two would know a plug that's a bit easier to access."

"His stuff hits different, Ron, and you know it," George explained, "And for cheap, too, cause he knows he's selling to broke students."

Just then, the front door burst open and Hagrid appeared with open arms, "Fred! George! My boys! Get in here!"

All three red-headed boys shuffled into the little hut, where they were greeted by warm air and the comforting smell of fire. It was a bit of a tight fit with the three Weasleys and Hagrid all in the hut, considering that Ron was almost as tall and broad as his brothers now, but they made it work for old time's sake. As they gathered around the tiny table, George produced a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it to Hagrid in exchange for his goods, tucked carefully into a a pretty sizable leather pouch.

"That's a lot of weed," Ron commented jealously.

"Not just weed," Fred replied with a mischevious glint in his eye that Ron knew too well. He grabbed the bag from George and reached inside, producing a baggie full of mushrooms, and other drugs Ron couldn't be bothered to name.

"I hate shrooms," he said in response, wrinkling his nose at the memory of the first time he'd tried it. He hadn't had a bad trip or anything. It just was overwhelming for him.

"So you're not tripping with us when you come visit home soon?"

Ron scoffed, "Yeah, right. I never said that. Just don't tell Harry, you know how he gets."

The twins and Hagrid chuckled quietly at Ron's willpower (or lack thereof), before Hagrid sat up a bit in his chair to ask the twins about how things were going for them after finishing up their time at Hogwarts.

"Things are getting more serious with me and Angie," confessed George, looking a bit bashful.

"He's being modest," Fred interrupted, "She sleeps over just about every night at the point. Even brings him coffee at the shop when we're working weekends. It'd be sweet if it wasn't so downright obnoxious."

"You're just mad she switched twins."

"For the last time, I never had feelings for her, you git!" Fred replied back, smacking George on the back of the head playfully.

Ron watched in bewilderment before gesturing for Hagrid to pass the joint and taking a long pull.

"So how are you doing, Ronnie?" George asked Ron, who looked at him, puzzled.

"You know, with single life," Fred supplied.

Ron was so flustered by the question that he coughed, spewing out smoke like a chimney. His brothers were always the only people who would ask him the questions he didn't want to answer, but somehow he hadn't been expecting it. He was honestly a bit annoyed at first. Why did they have to go and ruin a perfectly good time by talking about Cassie? He felt good about where and Cassiah were in their relationship now, with being friends, but he knew that his brothers wouldn't like it. He knew they'd have an opinion about it, and he wasn't super interested in hearing it.

"Still single," Ron huffed, diverting his eyes to the floor and hoping that he'd be able to successfully avoid the topic altogether. He felt Hagrid eyes watching him, but he knew the giant wouldn't say anything.

The twins, however, would say something.

"And that makes you feel?" George pushed, half-joking, but also clearly interested in hearing a real answer.

"I feel bloody brilliant," Ron replied matter-of-factly, "Cassie and I are friends, just like before, so there's not really anything to be concerned about."

Fred and George, for once, were dead silent. Ron watched warily and his brothers turned to look at each other, and he couldn't read the silent conversation that was happening between them. From the incredulous looks on their faces, however, he knew that he'd definitely set himself up for a lecture.

"I'm sorry, we must have misheard you. Because it sounded like you said that you and Cassie are 'friends like before,'" George said.

"And that simply cannot be the case because you're not a bloody idiot," Fred finished.

Ron felt his jaw clench and his blood pressure rise. He was sure that if there'd been better lighting, everyone in the room would have seen his ears turn red because he could almost feel steam coming out of them. It was just so bloody frustrating for everyone to always have an opinion on his relationship, whether it be his friends in the past thinking he and Cassie should be together, or his brothers thinking they shouldn't be friends now. He had so many other people's opinions about their relationship flooding his brain that he felt like he was drowning in them. It was maddening to the point that he didn't even know what his own opinion was anymore. All he knew was that being friends with Cassiah made him feel good, and not being friends with her made him feel bad.

He had to get his anger under control. He hated this hot, bubbling feeling he got in his chest sometimes. It was hard to remind himself that people were all just trying to look out for his best interests when they inserted their opinions, but it was hard.

Deep breath.

"I'm not a bloody idiot. We were friends before, and we– we talked about it and this is what works for us. I mean, you guys are friends with her. You know how good of a friend she is," Ron rushed to explain, and then waited expectantly for the group's response. He couldn't help but let out a little snort when he remembered Hagrid's presence here. All the giant wanted to do was get super high and talk about magical creatures and debate the existence of basic human concepts, and now he here the poor lad was at this impromptu family therapy session. One more angsty red-head in the room and it would be Sunday dinner at the Weasley's house instead of a smoke circle.

Fred was nodding and Ron was suddenly aware that his brother was talking, "Yeah, I get that. I do love Cassie. We all do."

"We miss her, even," added George.

"Well, good thing you'll be seeing her tomorrow night at Ron and Harry's party," Hagrid said out of nowhere.

All three boys turned to look at him in surprise.

"How do you know about the party?" Ron asked incredulously. He hadn't been down to see Hagrid in a good two weeks and hadn't mentioned the party or even the twins coming to him. Based on the twins' reaction, they hadn't told him either.

Hagrid smiled knowingly to himself, rocking back in his chair, "You think you're the only one who comes down here to vent about their bullshit? Who do you think Harry babbles to about how in love with your sister he is? Because we all know he's smart enough not to tell you."

___________

It was a weird feeling to be getting ready for a Gryffindor party without Hermione and Ginny. That's the way things had been for the past year – the three of them getting ready before meeting up with the boys. As if that wasn't unsettling enough, now Cassiah was getting ready to show up to this pregame alone – none of her Slytherin friends would be there until another two hours later. Suddenly, she was feeling a nervousness she hadn't felt in a long while. What if she felt out of place at the party? What if things were weird with her and the Gryffindors? With her and Ron?

Ron seemed so... comfortable; confident. He never stuttered asking her to hang out, and he talked to her like being her friend was the most natural feeling in the world. For him, it seemed like nothing had changed at all, like they'd never dated and they'd always just been good friends. She knew she was doing a solid job of acting and matching his nonchalance about the situation, but inside, she still felt uneasy. She wasn't sure what was okay to say or do around him anymore. On the contrary, he seemed to know exactly how to act. It wasn't fair how he could just not overthink things, and she'd be stuck reliving their interactions when she lay in bed at night. Thank God they were getting drunk tonight. Maybe she'd be able to shut her brain off and feel normal around him for once.

And if she spent a little extra time on her hair and makeup for Ron's sake... No one could prove that. So what if she knew that straight hair and a smokey eye was his favorite on her, or a certain pair of tight, black jeans got his mind going in certain ways? That if she wore a low cut top he'd spend the whole night pointedly staring at absolutely anything else? None of that was her problem.

She did feel a little bit better knowing that Ginny and Hermione weren't going to be at the pregame. She had been nervous that they would be, especially considering that Ginny was Harry's girlfriend, but it turns out they wouldn't be getting to the party until late because they had a club meeting.

Cassiah also felt better knowing that she wouldn't be forced into any awkward conversations with them once they did arrive. She'd told Ron that while she didn't have any bad feelings towards the girls, she also wasn't really interested in rekindling their friendship at the moment and wanted to keep her friendship with him separate. He understood. He always did.

She must've stood outside the door to the boys' dormitory for a good three minutes before finally getting up tue nerve to push it open. She was immediately met with a draft of cold air – the boys must've cracked open a window to smoke – and the smell of muggle-beer and Firewhiskey.

"Cassiah!" Dean called to her, "Fred and George are here, come say hey!" He grabbed her by the arm and ushered her in. Immediately, she felt herself relax a bit. If things were this comfortable with Dean, that was a good start. Although she was nervous to see her ex's brothers for the first time, they had been her friends, too, so...

"Cassiah Black!" Fred broke into a huge grin at the sight of her and pulled her into a huge hug. She squeezed him back tight, taking in the smell of intoxication already lingering on his clothes.

He passed her off to George, who offered her an equally enthusiastic hug and burying her into his shoulder before releasing her. When she looked up from George's warm embrace, her world seemed to slow to a stop. Standing there, waiting for his turn to greet her, was Ron. He was wearing one of her favorite t-shirts of his, from some old muggle band that his father had shown him – the Who. It clung to his arms and his body just right in a way that made Cassiah want to reach out and squeeze... The way that his eyes met hers for a moment made time move slow.

And then the moment was over.

"Hey Cassiah," he smiled, holding out a solo cup in greeting. He'd made her a drink. It wasn't lost on her, however, how he called by her real name and not his old nickname for her.

"Thanks, Ronald," she said, trying to act like her heart was beating out of her chest. She lifted the cup up to her nose and examined the contents. "Bloody hell," she scoffed when she got a whiff of it, "What did you put in this?"

"Everything," Ron smirked at her, reaching out to clink his cup against hers in a cheers, "Just how you like it."

Cassiah giggled softly at that, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks at how well he still knew her. "I'm a grown woman now, Ron. I don't mix my liquors anymore," she chided. She swirled the contents of her cup, and then stared at his, which was definitively less full than hers. "Merlin, who am I kidding?" she shook her head, exasperated, "Down the hatch. Match me?"

"Always."

With that, Cassiah wrinkled her nose and brought her cup up to her lips. She took huge gulps, not even tasting Ron's horribly awesome concoction but feeling it burn all the way down, but fell short of finishing her drink by just a few sips. When she took her cup away from her lips, Ron did the same, and then leaned over to examine her work.

"Pussy," he teased, showing off his empty cup.

"You know bloody well I'm bad at chugging things," Cassiah replied, pouting slightly, "Plus, you had a head start, cheater." She glanced around the room, watching all the boys and the few girls who were invited interact with each other. She was painfully aware that she was the most sober person there, and that simply wouldn't do. Especially not when everyone else was busy and it was just her and Ron, alone in a crowded room. She didn't trust herself to act socially normal. She got awkward sometimes and Ron was always so cool, so casual.

"Looks like I've got some catching up to do," she joked, "Take a shot with me, and then we can play some games or something. Oh! Can we play Kings?"

"Yes to shots – plural – and yes to Kings," Fred interrupted, inserting himself into the conversation.

After convincing Cassiah to do a few more rounds of shots than originally intended, everyone gathered in a small circle on the floor with a can of muggle-beer and a deck of cards in the middle.

"It's easy," Seamus was explaining to a sixth year girl Cassiah had never seen before, "Each card is a different rule, like 6 means girls drink, 5 is guys, and so on. Once we do the action the card says, you put the card under the tab of the can. If it pops, you chug."

Cassiah purposefully positioned herself in between a big, broad wall of Weasley twins so that she wouldn't have to sit next to Ron. She was so happy to be hanging out with him but sitting this close, she knew her skin would be on fire. She wouldn't be able to resist reaching out and touching him.

Sitting next to the twins probably wasn't her wisest choice because that gave them a bit too much power in their personal mission to get her a drunk as possible (They had kept cheering, "Black out at the pregame!") but she wasn't mad about it. Although admittedly, she'd nearly drowned when she'd had to follow George in a waterfall.

The first time the can popped, it was Harry who'd had to drink it, and he hadn't complained. Then, they restarted the game. Ron was the first person to pull a card.

"Eight," he stated, staring at the card, "Merlin, I can't remember all these bloody rules. What's eight mean?"

"Eight, pick a date. Your date has to drink whenever you do, and vice versa," Fred readily supplied.

Harry looked at Ron expectantly and asked, "So, who's it gonna be, Ronnie?," making it very obvious to everyone in the room he wanted Ron to choose him as his partner.

Ron glanced around the circle once and then peered over to where Cassiah was tucked between his brothers, hidden from view.

"Cassie," he declared, smiling warmly at her and raising his glass in salute.

Cassiah smiled back and took her obligatory sip of her drink, but in reality, her throat was closing up. Ron had picked her as his date. Obviously, not a real date, but there had to be some significance there. He could've picked anyone in the room, and he'd actively picked her, and so confidently... And he'd called her Cassie. She thought her stomach was going to explode from all the butterflies.

She'd assumed that Ron being so casual about their friendship was a sign that this was what he really wanted out of their relationship, but maybe he was acting, too, just like she was. Maybe he secretly wanted more.

Either way, as partners – or dates – she and Ron successfully managed to get decently drunk before it was time to head down to the Room of Requirement for the party – drunk enough to the point that as they were trying to fill up cups with water at the pong table, they were dropping empty cups to go clattering loudly all over the floor and wheezing laughing so hard that they had to lean on the table for support. Everything just felt so right, being like this with him.

People showed up right on time and in huge amounts. Apparently, none of them had ever heard of being fashionably late, Cassiah noted. She knew, however, that the Slytherins would should up at least 40 minutes after everyone else.

Cassiah, Dean, Neville, and Ron had been sitting on a couch while Ron showed off how he could burp the alphabet when the doors opened and in walked Ginny, Hermione, and Cho.

Ron looked nervously between the group of girls and Cassiah, and she knew that terrified look in his eyes all too well. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel like he had to choose. She gave him a knowing, soft look that immediately set him at ease.

"If you lads will excuse me, I've got some business to attend to, people to entertain," Ron said as he rose to his feet, albeit a bit clumsily, and swaggered across the room. Cassiah didn't want to watch, feeling a weird sinking feeling in her stomach at the sight of her old friends, but she also didn't want to look away. She couldn't help but laugh at how Ron immediately fell into big-brother mode and was apparently teasing Ginny by purposefully messing up her hair.

Cassiah had always loved seeing how Ron was with his family. It let her get a little sneak peek into how he would be with their own family one day. Would've been, she corrected herself.

But there was no sense in dwelling on such things. Her relationship with Ron was looking promising after the way he'd been acting at the pregame, so she might as well just let loose and have fun with her friends for the night. For once, maybe she could stop worrying about it.

She busied herself with a game of beer pong with George as her partner, and they won. they actually ended up winning the whole tournament. She and George were doing a clumsy, probably-embarrassing victory dance when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She turned around and broke into a huge smile when she saw platinum hair. "Draco! You came!" she shrieked, flinging herself into her arms.

"Cass! You're so drunk!" he mimicked in reply, giving her a playful pat on the back, but his pupils were so blown out he couldn't really judge her for being a little messy at the moment.

"Are the others here?" Cassiah asked, rising onto her tiptoes as if that would possibly help her see her friends over the massive crowd.

Draco nodded, gesturing absently behind him, "They're somewhere around, if you wanna grab a drink and try to find them."

"Yes! Of course I do, I have sooo much to tell you," Cassiah giggled in response, grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco's button-down and leading him towards the bar.

Once they got their drinks, Cassiah momentarily abandoned the idea of finding the other Slytherins and forced Draco onto the makeshift dance floor with her, determined to make the boy dance. He didn't dance like Ron, who would be acting like an idiot and shaking his ass, but danced in a very Draco way, stiffly shifting back and forth as he sipped his drink. He and Cassiah were quite the contrasting pair.

"Don't you think the strobe lights make you feel drunker?" Cassiah absorbed, moving her hips to the music and feeling it take over her body.

"Definitely. I have to admit those Gryffindor pansies through a pretty decent party," Draco replied. "So what did you have to tell me?" he asked curiously, sipping on his drink.

Stacy's Mom started playing out of the speaker and Cassiah knew immediately that Fred had gotten control of the music.

"Things are definitely improving between me and Ron!" Cassiah gushed, feeling more confident than she has since the breakup.

When Draco looked skeptical, she explained, "Seriously, Malfoy. You should've seen the way he was acting towards me at the pregame. I think he wants to be more than friends, too. He- He was so attentive and making sure to include me. And he kept looking at me with this look in his eye, like I was the only girl in the room, and I–"

"Cass, please–"

"He picked me as his partner in our game and I can't help but think, you know, that has to have some significan–"

"Cassiah, turn around."

Not thinking anything of it, and not picking up on the serious tone of Draco's voice in her drunken state, she immediately turned on her heels and glanced around the room. She didn't see it at first. That is, until she did.

There was Ron, leaning up against the bar, talking to a pretty blonde girl who was perched on a stool. The girl was very clearly enjoying his company, laughing cutely at one of his signature jokes. Ron had such a magnetic personality, Cassiah couldn't blame her. And Ron? He had that flirty grin on his face and he looked... happy. So happy.

Cassiah felt bile rise in her mouth and blood rush to her cheeks. "I– nevermind," she stuttered, immediately looking away to turn back to Draco.

"Cass, I'm sorry," Draco soothed, reaching out to grab her arm, "It might not even mean anything. I mean, they're just talking. I shouldn't have said anything. N-Now you're gonna overthink everything. Merlin, it's probably nothing."

Cassiah had never heard Draco say so many words. He was totally rambling and definitely drunk. But that didn't change the sinking feeling of dread she felt in her chest. She'd made the whole thing up in her head. All Ron wanted was to be friends, and she had to be mature and accept that. At least it was an open bar.

___________

The room was spinning in the most magnificent way. Ron truly was on the perfect level, especially after shotgunning muggle-beers with Harry and hearing everyone cheer. Everyone seemed to be having an amazing time at the party, although it was clearing out now. Neville and Luna had left about half an hour ago, and Dean had been with some Hufflepuff girl last time he checked.

He thought he'd also seen the interesting combination of Draco, Cassiah, Fred, and George on top of a table dancing to Hotel Room Service. It was a funny sight to see Draco dance so uninhibitedly but he kind of liked it. His favorite off was watching Cassiah go off, knowing it was her favorite song. She was singing every word at the top of her lungs, alternating jumping up and down and then dropping it to the floor. He gulped at the sight of her arse in those tight, black jeans. He couldn't look at that. But when he trained his eyes upwards, all he could focus on was her deep cleavage in that top. Bloody hell, it was so not okay for him to look at her like this. But the way she moved... Why was she so sexy when she was like this?

But that had been about twenty minutes ago, and he didn't know where any of them were anymore. The night was winding down, and he felt instinctively drawn to her. It felt natural to find her at the end of a party and clumsily clean up empty cups and talk about the events, like old times. He wasn't sure what that implied about what the "new times" were, but he didn't care. He was living in the moment, and he wanted to do what he wanted to do.

He made his rounds around the party but found no Cassiah. He did find Draco and Pansy – a rude way to find out that they were back together, but whatever – and finally Fred and George in the center of a small mosh pit.

"Hey guys, have you seen Cassiah?" he asked, not thinking anything of it.

"Nah," Fred answered honestly, "What's it to you, though, Ronnie? She's not your girlfriend."

Ron knew his brother didn't mean it in a rude way, but it still pissed him off to walk away without saying another word. He didn't want to ruin this amazing night by fighting with Fred.

And then he saw her, sitting on top of a pool table and playing absently with a pool cue. That was also when he saw him. He was standing in between Cassiah's legs and talking closely with her, tucking a strand of her messed-up hair behind her ear.

He didn't know who he was, but Ron's chest instantly flared with white-hot jealousy. But as he watched the interaction further, that jealousy turned into something else – anger. He had a bad feeling.

"Hey, Cassie," he said as he approached, gently placing a hand on Cassiah's shoulder. She looked at him with an almost annoyed look in her eye, but he ignored it. "How are you doing?"

"Who the hell are you?" the boy asked, his tone harsh.

"I'm Ron Weasley, and this is my party," Ron fired back, glaring at the other boy. Ron towered over him.

"I'm good, Ronald," Cassiah answered, and Ron would've almost believed her if it weren't for the slight slur in her words or the way she swayed slightly in her seat.

"She said she's good, mate," the guy reiterated with a stupid smirk on his face, "Nothing to worry about."

"I'll decide when there's something to worry about," Ron growled through gritted teeth, "Do you really think she looks sober enough to make this decision?"

"Merlin, chill out–"

"I will not chill out," Ron cut him off harshly, "Please. Just walk away while you still have the physical ability to do so." And he meant it. He felt that familiar, almost uncontrollable anger bubbling in his chest. As he felt the other boy leaving, he took a deep breath, grounding himself. When he looked up at Cassiah, her hazel eyes were hardened.

"What was that for, Weasley?" she spat, pushing his hand off of her arm from where he hadn't even noticed it still had been.

"Cassie, I was just looking out for you–"

"Stop calling me that!" she yelled, her voice shrill, and Ron recoiled in alarm, completely not expecting that reaction. "You have no right to look out for me anymore," she said, and even though her voice was calm, this new tone was even worse, Ron decided.

"I'm sorry," Ron huffed, trying desperately to get her to look into his eyes, but failing, "I just didn't want him to take advantage of you."

"Maybe I wanted to hook up with someone else," Cassiah shot back, and even she must've realized that she was being a little mean because her eyes softened. "I-I'm sorry. You're right. I'm too drunk," she stammered, embarrassed.

Ron decided to ignore the stabbing pain he felt in his chest when she said she wanted to hook up with someone else. That was a later problem. He pushed the feeling down.

He suddenly felt very small, like a little boy, and he knew his voice sounded like it, too, as he said, "Y-you're obviously allowed to hook up with whoever you want. I just wanted to make sure you weren't too drunk to be doing that."

"You're right," Cassiah shook her head, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment, "God, this is humiliating. Can we please pretend that this never happened?"

I mean, we're already pretending that a lot of things didn't happen, so what's one more? Ron thought. Out loud, he chuckled quietly and said, "Of course. Now let's get you home."

Cassiah would just barely remember the walk home, but she did remember the way they'd stumbled through the hallways, laughing and making fun of each other and holding hands, and the way Ron kept a careful eye on her to make sure she was okay. Because if he couldn't be hers, he still cared. ___________________________________

Hey guys! I know I made you wait a LONG time for this chapter, and I'm so sorry. But here it is, a 7100 word monster. I really hope you like it. I spent like a whole week writing it after I plotted it out lmao.

Anyways, my semester is winding down, so hopefully after finals are done, I'll be able to be a little more active/consistent.

all my love, XX

tag list: @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @girl22334 @mariellelovescupcakes @lateautumn @heartofcanvas

Published on my Wattpad (halebscallison) and my Tumblr (theweasleyslytherin).

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ardentmuse · 4 years

Text

Chalk and Leather (Murphy McNully x Reader)

DISCOVERING AMORTENTIA SMELLS LIKE MURPHY McNULLY TO YOU

Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery - Murphy McNully x fem!Reader

A/N: Since we just finished up the valentine’s day quest, got to give some love to the characters we can’t date. :)

Masterlist

“What do you smell, Y/N?” Skye asks you as you stand what should have been a safe distance from the cauldron Snape has bubbling in the middle of his classroom. Streams of pink smoke loft occasionally into the air as your professor’s voice continues to cut through the crowd, droning on about how you need to study amortentia to know how to identify it and therefore avoid it. A better policy seems to be just don’t touch any potions you don’t know.

You try hard not to lean forward but it is intoxicating. Skye elbows you and raises her eyebrows; clearly hoping your nose might provide some juicy gossip.

“I smell chalk and freshly cut grass and—“

Your eyes find the real thing you are smelling on the other side of the room. Murphy McNully, one of your dearest friends, is beside Rowan, the two chatting in hushed tones about something or the other. He laughs — the kind of bright, full laugh that consumes his whole face — and you feel the warm trickle in your chest you haven’t been able to explain for weeks, at least until this very moment.

“Leather and shoe polish,” you finish with a whisper. The words flow from your mouth like they’re the solutions to a riddle because they are. You are in love with Murphy McNully and somehow you hadn’t put two and two together until it was right under your nose.

You take another whiff and enjoy the fragrance you associate only with your rambling friend. It’s a pleasant blend of masculine comforts, rustic and warm like the boy himself. McNully catches your eyes across the room. He smiles, always so friendly, though something in your face must be off because he frowns soon after, returning his attention to Rowan and the rest of your class on his side of the room.

“That’s an odd collection of scents,” Skye muses. “I just smell the pitch.”

“Predictable. Maybe I’ll give those bludgers some amortentia next practice and see if they’ll chase after you like some lovesick puppies so I can take the day off.”

Skye cackles even though your joke wasn’t that funny and Snape snaps at the both of you.

“Is this stuff getting to your head, Parkin? Making you dumb?”

“No, Professor.”

“Then I advise you keep your voice down and pay attention,” Snape says, speaking to Skye but looking at you as well.

“Yes, Professor.”

Snape turns on his heels and heads back towards his desk. Skye lets out a breath, shaking off her scolding. You wish you could shake off your feelings, too: joy, fear, anxiety, doubt, hope, and love above all the others.

As the class ends, your quidditch crew prepares to leave and head to the pitch for practice. McNully usually never misses an opportunity to come with you all and practice his announcing skills but when Skye calls out his name in the corridor of the dungeon, he mumbles something under his breath. He doesn’t even meet your gaze as he rolls down the hall and out of sight.

“Someone’s a little grumpy.”

The worry fills your chest like a balloon, making it hard to breath.

“Isn’t that odd, though? He’s always chipper.”

“So are you and you look like a house elf denied her supper,” Skye laughs, patting you on the back as she runs ahead to catch up with Orion and the rest of the gang. But you can’t join in the joyous run. McNully is somewhere less than pleased about whatever he saw on your face during potions.

You arrive at the locker rooms and change into your quidditch gear, a little slower than usual. Your brain won’t stop replaying images of the dinners spent playing wizard chess with the dimpled blond currently getting situated in the announcer’s booth, the late nights in the common room, your legs up on his lap, memorizing quidditch strategy, and the after-match hang outs where you often found excuses to be close to him, grab his hand, and congratulate him on commentary you arguably didn’t hear given your focus on the match. How had you not seen before just how much he meant to you and just how many of your tiny fantasies about how nice it would be to have a boyfriend involved soft blue eyes just as you closed your eyes to be kissed or running your hands down crisp white collars as you snuggle close in front of the fire, or the pleasant warm laughter of mirth-filled lungs as warm hands run through your hair, just as soft and strong as McNully’s? Everything you hoped for had been right in front of you for well over a year.

When the team assembles and takes to the air, you heard the faint calls of Murphy’s voice from the booth as you bat at the first bludger. He had come to practice after all, just not with you.

“And Y/L/N whacks the bludger away from Parkin with a—“

There is an odd and long silence that follows and it seems the whole team notices. The entire friendly slows, each broom taking to a lazy bob as your team’s statistician stands in stasis.

“… some level of accuracy,” he finally says with a cough.

Murphy is struggling with numbers? That’s odd, you think and it seems everyone else is as confused as you, that is at least until Orion screams for you to focus from the other end of the field, clearly not wanting to lose practice time. But he doesn’t even need to call you from your daze. A rogue bludger is already heading for your team’s latest addition, Oliver Wood.

You fly as fast as you can, swooping down towards the goal posts in hopes of intercepting the ball as the rest of the team resumes play. With a great push, you dangle down from your broom and swing low, just hitting the edge of the wall and knocking it back towards the pitch below.

“And with an impressive show of athleticism, Y/L/N managed to protect our young keeper from a bludger that was—“

Murphy coughs like there is a frog in his throat. It’s alarming and your heart pulls for him. Without a thought for anything but wanting to make sure he is okay, you fly down towards the box where Murphy is sitting. His head is in his hands and his face is redder than it normally is. When he sees you, his eyes bug out a little, but he looks away. His attention is back on the game. He straightens his shoulders and begins commentating again.

“And Parkin shoots for the upper left and misses! A rare miss for the ace chaser, whom this season alone has scored 92.4% of shots on open goals in sunny weather.”

Wait, how come that stat was not an issue?

You hover a bit and stare at the boy who is proving quite the enigma. Your chest heaves a bit as you consider what might be happening, but out of the corner of your eye a stream of black comes barreling through.

Instinctively, you press forward and swing your bat just as the bludger enters into Murphy’s commentary box. The bludger flies away to the east just as McNully covers his face, prepared for a sure to be painful smack right to the noggin. Your momentum however doesn’t stop just because you managed to knock the ball away. You pull up on your broom but can’t stop and land right down on top of Murphy, curling up in his lap as his wheelchair slides back into the wall. His arms wrap around you protectively, covering your head as the house banners fall down upon you in a giant crash.

Once your crash ends and the chaos subsides, you realize exactly where you are; seated on Murphy’s lap with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, canopied in the privacy of fallen tapestries. Murphy’s breathing is hard as his hands curl into the flesh of your back.

And for the first time since potions, he smiles.

“Y/L/N with the greatest save of the day,” he whispers, his hand reaching up to wipe a bit of dust off your cheek.

You face is hot as you look deeply into Murphy’s eyes, unable to stop the smile on your face, too. And somehow, suddenly, everything feels right.

“And what were my chances of making it?”

He slides his hand into your hair as he tilts your face up to him.

“I haven’t a bloody clue.”

He shakes his head and laughs, his cheeks turning the brightest red you’ve ever seen. You start to speak but his voice interrupts you.

“I can’t think of a single thing but you when you’re near, you know that?”

“I— I can’t either.”

Murphy laughs, the hearty kind you missed just a little, and the matching smile on his face only makes it better. He pulls you closer to him, letting you rest your head against his chest. He takes a deep and stabilizing breath.

“Lilac,” he says more to himself than you, “And fresh clean linens.”

And now it is your turn to smile as you realize Murphy knows your scent, too— two people attracted by nothing other than each other. It’s impossible to resist the urge, just like this morning in Snape’s classroom, to draw closer to the source of such joy. Every part you longs to lift upward, to taste the thing you’ve been craving so intensely, the thing you didn’t know you needed.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay?” Skye is screaming from somewhere near by. You hear the scrambled sounds of brooms dropping onto the deck and footsteps rushing to your aid.

But McNully doesn’t care. His hand takes your chin and he kisses you full on, not wasting a moment to seal your newly-declared affections. And all you can do is melt into him.

A faint breeze hits your face and you look up to see Skye standing now under the banners, her eyes filled with mischief as she takes you in.

“That chalk smell makes a whole lot of sense now.”

Murphy’s eyes bug out of his head as he pushes back on you.

“I smell… like chalk to you?”

“Among other things.”

He laughs, “I’ll have you know my spell for the chalk board reduces chalk use by 68.3% over traditional writing methods.”

You can’t help but smile. He’s back in all his quirkiness and something about the fact that he can be himself with you in his arms, open about your feelings, brings you more joy than you can say. And that joy is the kind of joy you hope to have every night moving forward with the boy who smells like chalk and leather by your side and loving you fully.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt, @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills, @hazelandcoconuts, @yallgotkik, @amberkay284, @the-new-galahad, @13ofjuly, @daft-not-punk

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot, @eldritchscreech, @luckyvirgo, @hellizhelusive2, @lexrius, @sapphireorchid, @amazingwonderlandnapkin, @garbdump

#hphm #hp hogwarts mystery #hphm imagine #murphy mcnully #murphy mcnully imagine #hphm murphy #mcnully #hp hogwarts mystery imagine #harry potter #hp #reader insert #x reader

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