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desiredmalfoy · 4 years ago

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Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling.

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong.

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley.

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others.

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school.

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n).

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist.

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her.

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight.

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms.

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her.

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend. But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near.

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing.

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying.

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this.

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry.

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George? “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them.

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden.

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden.

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. .

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do.

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days.

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand.

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence.

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide.

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it.

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her.

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks.

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you��, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket.

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours.

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.”

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter.

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way. She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination.

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him.

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently.

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner.

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you.

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her.

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy

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comehomeducklings · 3 years ago

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Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

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1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

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“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #death eaters #voldemort #horcrux #hogwarts #harry potter #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #moldy voldy

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bucksblr · 4 years ago

Text

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you so much for tagging me @lan-xichens, I’ll try my best to explain how I made this set from start to finish hehe ♡ and also a big thank you to @suibianjie @highwarlockkareena @nyx4 @aheartfullofjolllly and you as well Kris for putting this all together! Content creators get a lot less recognition than they deserve for all the time they put into their content, so getting everyone to see the (sometimes excessive) process we all go through to put our content in our blog, I hope it creates a positive change!! 💖

1. Planning

The set in question was actually requested by someone so they could celebrate their friend’s birthday! At first I wasn’t entirely sure if I was going to be able to finish it on time (college is very hectic right now) but I was able to finish it three days before the deadline which was may 1st! ^-^

The first thing I did was decide what characters I wanted to use in the set, I first reached out to the person who requested the set if there were certain characters they wanted me to use but they said they didn’t know enough to really give me any directives outside of the quote. I decided, since the quote is applicable to the entirety of the show, that I would try to put in as many characters as possible.

Thus, of course, came the hunting for scenes. Those of you in the net discord surely know I came into the content help channel a few times to ask for certain scenes here and there, and eventually I had to download an additional 10 episodes to the back then 20 or so episodes I had in my CQL episodes folder.

As you can see I have 30 random episodes of CQL downloaded (slowly but surely getting to the point where I have all 50 episodes downloaded) and I think I ended up using scenes out of at least 20 of those episodes.

I planned out beforehand what characters I would use per gif. I knew obviously I would start out with Wangxian, them being the main characters of the show, and then would work my way down the list. The second gif consists of Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning. They’re all family pairings, two being siblings and one being a married couple. The next gifset consists of the Yi City characters, then the fourth gif consists of the juniors, and the final gif has Jin Guangyao, Mianmian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen in it.

I have to admit though that when I had made the first four gifs I’d forgotten who I would put in the last gif and the when I thought about it the first time around I could only think of Lan Qiren and the very cursed Yaoyang ship 😭 it was only at dinner time that same day that I remembered I hadn’t put Jiang Cheng in my gifset yet and that’s when I thought of the other characters as well.

I had already made my first two gifs when I went to check Hanyi’s blog for layout inspo and eventually I decided I wanted to try a triangle-ish layout, which I doodled below. I eventually ended up changing the layout of the last gif in the final design. It was also the first time I would work with a triangle-ish layout so I was a bit nervous as I was scared it wasn’t going to work out...

2. Creating

I use Avisynth 2.5 and Adobe Photoshop 2021 (the paid version, unfortunately, I need it for school except I didn’t need it this year but I wanted it so I paid for it with my own money ouch) to make my gifsets! I always start out with trimming down all the scenes I’m going to use into three to five second videos and putting them through Avisynth. This time around I did it separately for each gif I made, simply because I needed so many scenes. I would include a screenshot of my “gif vids” and “temp” folders but I’ve already deleted all the videos, which is what I usually do immediately after a set is posted.

I’ll try my best explaining this gif by gif since each one had a different layout!

2.1 Wangxian

I think I had up to five different designs of this gif 😭 it started out with the gif on the left originally being more centered and the quote right smack in the center but somehow it felt a bit too... empty? I changed up the design and pulled the gif over to the right and put the two closeups on the left, the exact opposite of the gif I eventually ended up with. I switched things around one more time and saved the gif as you can see it right now, except I didn’t include the lines yet. It was only as I finished up my fourth gif that I decided this gif needed lines as well so I added them ^-^

2.2 Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning

I got the inspiration for the font layout on this gif from this Wenzhou post! I hadn’t tried it before and when I did for this gif I was very happy with the way it turned out :D I wanted to portray that life is a pile of good and bad things, as the quote says, in CQL by mirroring these happy scenes side by side with the sad scenes

2.3 Yi CIty

My first time working with the triangle layout!! Putting in the lines and making sure they would line up with the second gif took me the longest of all actually 😭 I think once I got the line on the left in I just copy pasted it and flipped it horizontally so I didn’t have to fiddle around with angling it anymore :’) my original idea was to get a happy Song Lan scene and a sad A-Qing scene, but when I stumbled upon this A-Qing scene in ep38 I just had to put it in there because her smile is so precious 🥺 Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen in the center are also supposed to be mirrored, with Xue Yang embodying the “bad things” and Xiao Xingchen the “good things” ! I also think the Yi City characters fit this part of the quote very well!!

2.4 The Juniors

Ah yes, the junior quartet!! :D I had this planned out from the very beginning, that I would include happy versus sad juniors in the “vice versa” part of the quote, and I think it worked out quite well! My first idea was to put the “vice versa” completely in the special font and have it typed out over the gifs like I did with the “vice” but as I typed out the “versa” I realized it had one letter too much to be able to do that 😭😭 it took me a while to come up with how I would position the “but” and “versa” and after some moving around I decided to just place them the way I did in the final gif! For the font, I duplicated the “vice” and added a stroke to the duplicate, then I changed the fill setting to 0% so I could slightly drag the duplicate away from the original layer to create the effect that’s in the gif — also, finding a scene in which Jin Ling smiles is really difficult.... he barely even smiles in the scene I ended up using :(

2.5 Jin Guangyao, Mianmian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen

The final gif!! I feel like this might come a little across as “I promise I didn’t forget these characters” because they’re a very odd quadruplet to put together, but they were the most important characters left to put in the set! I was thinking of putting Nie Mingjue in here together with Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen, but I did feel he fit more with his brother up in the second gif. Mei @mylastbraincql cheered me on making this gif for which I was very grateful :D <3 the layout came to be after I googled “how to evenly split a rectangle in four” because I didn’t want a repeat layout in the set (*/∇＼*)

2.6 Coloring

For the coloring I pretty much did all of the tweaking on the first gif and then copy pasted all of it onto the second, third, fourth, and fifth gif. This is usually the way I go about my coloring, I will always edit certain gifs if necessary but I don’t think I had to change the coloring much on any of these gifs? Maybe I added in a curve layer here and there, but nothing major! This is really one of my preferred coloring styles, even though I try to step outside of my comfort zones with other sets ^-^

3. Posting

I will always upload sets into my drafts and edit the caption in there as well, clicking on “preview post” a couple times to check everything looks good on my blog as well, before I post a set. However, this time, since there was a deadline and I finished before the deadline, I put this set in the queue so it would automatically post on the 1st of may! Knowing myself, I would’ve forgotten to do so </3

Whew that was... a lot 😭 did it make any sense? Probably not, but it was fun to ramble （ ´∀｀）

I’ll tag

@blinkplnk with this set !

@wuxien with this set !

@wendashanren with this set !

@wanyinxichen with this set !

@yibobibo with this set !

@mylastbraincql with this set !

@sugarbabywenkexing with this set !

@yiling-recesses with this set !

@jiancheng with this set !

Please feel totally free to ignore this if you’ve already been tagged and don’t want to do it again!! <3

#showyourprocess #tag game #this got so long i'm sorry ;-;#very curious to see everyone else's processes!!#thank you for the tag kris <3

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renjuseyo · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a Lucas x male reader where Lucas is trying to ask reader to prom but reader always gets distracted by friends or is too busy with school activities. Then when Lucas gets the chance to reader says no. But reader surprised Lucas with a date at the place Lucas asked him to be his boyfriend. P.S. They are already together for 2 years. P.P.S. I love your writings stay healthy and make sure to take care of yourself

-🧍🏽‍♂️

prom ; lucas

group: nct / wayv / superm

pairing: wong yukhei / reader (male)

synopsis: yukhei only has one goal in mind: to ask you out to prom in the most perfect way possible.

genre: fluff

i had a bit of writer’s block with this one, but i hope this is what you wanted anon! ^^ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated~~

“my plan is absolutely foolproof. there’s no possible way it could fail.”

“that’s what fools say.”

yukhei climbs to a seated position on his bed, folding his arms in a huff. “why would you say that, dude? way to encourage a guy.”

yangyang doesn’t even bat an eye, adding details to a sheep he’s doodling on his economics assignment. “well, when you put it like that, it’s going to spite the universe and make your plan fall apart on its head.”

dejun nods in agreement, tapping on his phone. he’s probably texting that guy he’s been eyeing from his history class, or playing solitaire like the old man he is at heart. “the universe loves playing tricks on happy, unsuspecting people.” he sets his phone down to look straight at yukhei. “happy, unsuspecting people like you. i love your confidence, but i’m just saying. don’t get all mopey if something does happen.”

he crosses his legs, pouting. “i get what you’re saying, but come on, how can a simple promposal go wrong?” dejun and yangyang give him a knowing look, one that screams there are several things that could go wrong, actually. “if it were a big, extravagant one, maybe, but come on. i’m taking (name) out to sushi and bringing him a bouquet of flowers. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“well, he could get food poisoning from the sushi.”

“or he pricks himself from the flowers.”

“or he-”

“i didn’t literally ask you guys!” yukhei interrupts, exasperated. dejun and yangyang give him a mischievous smirk. “you two are horrible.”

yangyang blows him an air kiss. “just here to give you a reality check, my love.”

the two had originally gone over to yukhei’s house for a study party, but seeing how dejun was on his bedroom floor playing solitaire, and yangyang was doodling sheep all over his assignment, they were doing anything but. somewhere along their “study session”, someone had brought up the topic of prom, which was to happen in four weeks. while the two of them had no big plans for promposals (because dejun is waiting for the guy from his history class to make the first move, and yangyang is perfectly content being single), yukhei had constructed a plan to ask his boyfriend of two years to prom.

yangyang sets his pencil down and spins around from his seat. “what happened to your love for big, extravagant promposals? i remember you gushing about that kind of stuff all the time,” he comments.

“(name) doesn’t like being in the spotlight. i think i’ll just make him uncomfortable if i pull one of those stunts with people nearby,” yukhei explains. he would be lying if he said he’s never thought of creating the most memorable promposal for him. hey, it’s not his fault he just wants to flaunt his cute boyfriend for the world to see.

dejun and yangyang nod in understanding, except they don’t, because they relish in the spotlight. “well, prom is in four weeks. will you even have the time to ask him?” dejun asks. “your boyfriend practically drowns himself in homework. plus, he’s on the student council.”

“we both may be busy with school and clubs, but mark my words when i say i’ll get to him!”

“well, as taken as you and your boyfriend are, i hope you realize that there are still people who’ll be lining up to ask you two,” yangyang points out.

yukhei pats his chest, a confident smile making it way back to his lips. “i’m not worried that someone else will woo him. he has me, after all!”

yangyang gags. “gross. i feel sorry for him.”

dejun nods in agreement, cringing. “me too... yangyang, come on, let’s actually be studious and do our homework, unlike that one there,” he sneers, pulling out a pen from his pencil pouch.

yukhei looks at them, exasperated. “oh now you two choose to do your homework?! where was this attitude when i told you two to work on it earlier?!” he exclaims.

dejun shrugs. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. as far as i’m concerned, yangyang and i are students who actually focus on our work.” he gestures at himself and said boy, but the way he’s hunched over his economics assignment doodling more sheep completely contradicts his words. “seriously yangyang? work with me here!” he shrieks, smacking his back.

the younger hisses in pain, glaring at him. “leave me alone! let me draw in peace!”

the older snorts, swiping his pencil away from him. yangyang makes a noise of protest, lunging at dejun to retrieve his pencil, and soon the two are engaged in a fight, limbs tangled together. yukhei can only watch in disappointment. sure, he’s chaotic, but his energy is no match for them. their energy seems to multiply when the two of them are together.

yukhei turns his attention back to the calculus textbook on his lap, ignoring the fight ensuing before him. though his mind is mainly focused on the problems on the pages, a part of him recalls dejun’s words. there isn’t many reasons for him to be worried about his plans backfiring, but then again, the universe has always loved to meddle with people’s affairs. he just hopes it will treat him kindly this time around.

though it’s your final year of high school, you and yukhei only share one class together, to his dismay. even in the hour he gets to spend with you, you’re too busy focusing on the lesson at hand. there’s always lunchtime, too, but both of you have your own respective friend groups, so even if you two are dating, you two spend more time eating with your friends than with each other. he doesn’t really mind, but now that he plans on enacting his plan, not seeing you often will make things harder.

after the bell rings, signalling the beginning of lunch, he makes a beeline out of the door and dashes towards the cafeteria. thanks to a secret source (which is really just shotaro and really isn’t a secret), he learns that you usually eat lunch on the roof of the school.

when he pushes open the door to the roof, he’s relieved to see you with your friends. at the sound of a newcomer, you all turn to look at the door. “yukhei?” you ask, surprised.

his smile widens upon seeing you. “hey (name)!” he chirps.

your friend sungchan raises a brow. “not often we see you here, lucas. do you need something?” he asks.

“yeah, i actually need to talk to you, (name).”

you stand up, slinging your backpack over his shoulder. “sorry, can it wait? we kind of have plans,” you tell him.

yukhei gives them a quizzical look, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you or your friends. “it’s jisung’s birthday today,” jaemin explains. “we’re treating him to food later.”

he recognizes the name; jisung is a first year student who has become increasingly popular thanks to his position on the dance team. he’s also one of your friends and someone you tutor. now that he thinks about it, he recalls yangyang mentioning something about his birthday this morning, but he didn’t pay much attention. maybe he should have. “oh, okay. well, are you free later today?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look.

judging from your apologetic smile, he already can guess the answer is no. “sorry, we’re holding a surprise party for him later. i think i’m probably going to stay over at his house, too.”

renjun, who’s standing beside you, gags. “you two are so sweet, it’s kind of sickening.”

you turn to glare at him, who snickers at your look. “how? and you’re one to talk, mr. i-miss-jeno-even-though-i-saw-him-twenty-minutes-ago,” you spit. his expression is quick to contort to one of embarrassment, spluttering at the name of his boyfriend. yukhei feels like you don’t even realize his presence anymore.

to regain your attention, he clears his throat. “can you spare just a minute? i promise it’ll be quick.”

you turn to face him, but not before sticking your tongue out at a glowering renjun. “oh, s-” you’re cut off when your phone dings, and you glance at the screen to read the notification. a few seconds later, you look back up at him. “on second thought, i don’t think i can, sorry. chenle just texted me saying he and jisung just left mr. jung’s classroom. we should get going now.”

your friends nod and begin packing their belongings. once they’re all set, they walk towards the doorway leading back into the building, where he’s standing. they all pour into the small doorway, leaving you and yukhei alone. “sorry, how about next time?”

yukhei nods. it’s not like he can stop you from celebrating your friend’s birthday, unless he wants to be perceived as a jerk. “no worries, go celebrate jisung’s birthday. make his day a memorable one,” he reassures, smiling.

making sure your friends are far enough, you lean forward and peck him on the lips, catching him off guard. once you lean back, you smirk upon seeing his flustered expression. “catch you another time~”

and with that, you jog back inside to catch up to your friends, leaving a blushing yukhei behind. sure, his first attempt didn’t quite go the way he expected, but he’s not particularly disappointed, considering how he got a kiss from you. plus, there are plenty of other times to ask you again.

perhaps asking you to prom might be harder than yukhei had anticipated.

after jisung’s birthday, he had waited to catch you again when you were free, but you were occupied with homework, as well as duties of being on the student council. apparently jisung’s birthday was the only day you were free. as much as he sympathizes with you, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. he hasn’t even been able to talk to you, let alone treat you to a proper meal.

after several weeks of not talking to you, he decides it’s time to take matters into his own hands. if he can’t take you out on a proper date, then he’ll just bring it to you! after inquiring his friends yerim and mark for your schedule, he learns that fridays are normally your free days. he recalls the previous fridays where you were too busy to hang out with him, catching up on projects and avoiding deadlines, so he hopes that this friday you’ll be free.

after school one afternoon, yukhei catches you by your locker, talking to two people he recognizes from the student council. as soon as you see him, you wave the two farewell, and they go their separate ways. he leans against your locker door, smiling down at you. “hello my sweet~” he greets.

though you smile back at him, he can tell you’re drained, judging from the way your eyes flutter close and the yawn that rips out of your throat. “hi,” you greet. “sorry, it’s been a long week.”

he watches as you sluggishly shut the door. “tired?” he asks, draping an arm over your shoulder.

he hums in delight as you lean into his arm, warm and snug. “that’s an understatement,” you tiredly sigh. “i thought being the secretary was easier than the president, but i’m exhausted. all this filing and meetings can really kick a guy’s ass. i finally finished my biology report, but i still have to study for the history test that’s on tuesday. i don’t know how mark does it, being the president and captain of the basketball team. he doesn’t even have bad grades, either.”

yukhei laughs upon hearing you rant, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “i’m sure it must be hard. do you think your tired self is up for sushi, though?”

at the mention of food, you instantly perk up. “you know i can never say no to food.”

once you two walk out of the building, pushing through the swarms of students gathered by the entrance, you both head towards the bus stop. five minutes later, you both board the bus and are lucky enough to snag seats. in the ten minutes it takes to get to the sushi restaurant you two often frequent, he’s surprised to see you fast asleep on his shoulder. you really must be tired, because you don’t normally fall asleep so quickly.

ten minutes later, he nudges you awake (he has to refrain from pinching your cheeks at your dazed state), and you both step off the vehicle. five minutes of walking later, you approach the restaurant. for a friday evening, he supposes he’s lucky to have gotten there without it being packed.

you both greet the waitress by the entrance, who leads you both to a booth near the back. after serving you both your beverages and menus, she slinks away, presumably to attend to other patrons. as you browse through the menu, wondering what to order, yukhei glances at you, who seems too concentrated on the menu before you to notice him. he mentally reviews his plan for what seems to be the twentieth time today: order food, eat, pretend to go to the restroom and head to the flower shop next door, and woo you into going to prom with him. what could possibly go wrong?

(upon saying this statement, he learns that’s the worst possible thing you could say. at least, if you want the universe to mess with your plans.)

after discussing what you two will order, he waves down the waitress from earlier, who gets both of your orders. you two spend around five minutes catching up on your lives, talking about upcoming events and games at school. soon your food arrives, and you both dig in. he doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you until he sees the way your eyes twinkle as you happily recall the time the vending machine malfunctioned and gave you two bags of skittles instead of one. it’s endearing, seeing you get excited over the little things.

as you pluck some calamari out of a small bowl, he realizes it’s time to put his plan in action. “hey (name), i’m going to the bathroom. feel free to order some more food if you want, it’s all on me~”

“when you put it that way, it’s like you’re begging to go broke,” you joke, though you nod nonetheless. yukhei gets up and makes a beeline to the restroom. he stands in front of the entrance, peeking behind the wall to make sure you don’t see him. a few seconds later, he quietly sneaks back towards the entrance. luckily, you’re too occupied with the food to notice him.

he steps out of the store and heads straight for the flower shop next door. when he steps inside, the bell above the door jingles, signalling a newcomer. “welcome to yong’s flowers~!” a florist chirps.

“hey hyung,” he greets. the florist turns away from a pot of tulips, revealing a bright smile and even brighter hair. “i came here for the flowers i was telling you about.”

the florist nods, heading towards the back. when he returns, he brandishes a bouquet of red roses to him. “here you go!”

when yukhei moves his hand to his pocket, the florist waves a dismissive hand. “don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. i hope things go well with you and (name)~” he hums, giving him a cheeky smirk.

normally he would decline the kind offer, but he needs to get back to the restaurant soon, otherwise you’ll get suspicious. “thanks, taeyong-hyung. i’ll pay you back next time! wish me luck!” with that, he waves him farewell and exits the store.

he runs straight back to the restaurant, bouquet in hand. the waitress from earlier seems to notice the new addition, sending him a knowing smile. he pays no mind to it though, simply heading straight to you. he notices three new plates on the table, but hey, he isn’t complaining. you haven’t had the chance to properly eat the past week, if you count salads as a proper meal. when you look up from your salmon belly, your eyes widen at the roses in his hands.

it’s now or never, he supposes. he sits on his seat, bashfully sliding the bouquet to you. “i’ve been wanting to do this for the past week, but you’ve been pretty busy, so i haven’t been able to catch you alone. but (name) (last name), would you do me the honor of being my prom date?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look and a bright smile to top off the look.

silence envelops the room, save for chefs yelling and the stove roaring back in the kitchen. from the corner of his eyes, yukhei realizes that the lack of patrons means extravagant movements like his are bound to be noticed by everyone. plus, he wasn’t exactly quiet when he popped the question. he usually doesn’t care, anyways, thriving in the attention. even now, he has nothing to be worried about. besides, he knows what your answer will be.

apparently not.

eyes still wide, you slowly remove the wooden chopsticks from your lips, placing it on your empty plate. he assumes your eyes are still wide out of shock, but when the silence gets too loud for his liking, his smile falters. “(name)...?”

you rapidly blink back to reality. “oh, right, sorry. um...” you take in your surroundings, and he suddenly wonders if this was too flashy for your liking. he watches you with bated breath; you look like you’re doing some mental calculations, eyebrows furrowed like they are when you encounter a particularly difficult question on a test. after you ponder the several options laid out in your head, you take a deep breath, giving him your most sincere look. “i’m sorry, i don’t think i can accept this.”

those nine words and thirty-one letters are enough to crush yukhei’s spirit, evident by the way he visibly deflates. he quickly regains his composure, hoping the smile he has is enough to assure you he’s fine. but from the way you grimace, he can tell he’s doing a poor job at it. “it’s not your fault yukhei, i promise! it’s just...” your voice falters, and the same, contemplative look from earlier returns. “i have something important i have to do that day. i’m sorry.”

no one seems to have seen this rejection coming, and he mentally reprimands himself for thinking of every scenario except the one where you reject him. apparently he looks so devastated that the curious eyes from earlier immediately turn their attention elsewhere, probably not wanting to put him in the spotlight any further. sure, he feels embarrassed, but most importantly, he’s curious. what could you possibly have to do on prom? it’s a friday night, meaning you should be free... maybe you’re occupied with student council duties? but if that’s the case, you would just tell him that. there’s no reason to hide it.

maybe you just don’t want to go with him.

the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he tries to shake it off. “oh, okay. don’t worry about it,” he says, tone flat. you try to change the topic and compliment the roses and thank him for the food, but no matter what you say, the ugly feeling of disappointment still settles itself in his stomach.

the rest of your dinner is relatively uneventful. yukhei doesn’t want to make you feel more guilty than you already feel, so he tries his best to engage himself in your conversations. after you two eat your fill, he pays for you both (and is surprised to see that the waitress from earlier docks off the price of a few plates. does he really look that pitiful?) and leaves the restaurant. the sun has set, and it won’t be long before the sky darkens.

he approaches the bus stop, waiting for your bus to take you home. “well, i guess we part ways now. see you next week?” he asks.

you nod, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands. though you had rejected his promposal, he still pushed you to take the roses, claiming he wouldn’t have anywhere to place them at home when in reality, he just didn’t want to be reminded of his failure. “yeah.” you send him another apologetic smile. “again, i’m really sorry. i promise you it isn’t because of you, it’s just...” your voice trails off again. “i have plans.”

he makes the mistake of wondering if these plans mean you’ve accepted someone else’s offer. no, that can’t be it... we’ve been dating for two years. he wouldn’t just accept someone else’s offer. (name) isn’t like that, he attempts to reason. pushing these thoughts away before he says something he’ll regret, he nods. “don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” as if on cue, the bus begins to roll up in front of you two before coming to a halt. “well, your bus is here. get home safe.”

you smile, letting a few people off before boarding the bus. “you too. thanks for the meal and the flowers,” you thank.

he waves, making sure you’re safely aboard before beginning his journey back home. as he does, his phone goes off a few times, and when he checks them, he sees messages from taeyong, dejun, and yangyang. he assumes they’re texting to see how things turned out with you and him.

yukhei pockets his phone and continues walking.

after that failed promposal, yukhei distances himself from you for a few days. seeing you will only bring unwarranted frustration, and the last thing he wants is to blame you for something that isn’t your fault. he decides to distract himself by hanging out with his friends. while his friends prove to be a useful distraction, he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you.

no one knows why you’ve turned down his promposal. everyone who knew about his not-so-secret plan had fully expected you to accept with open arms. even your friends were genuinely shocked. as they chattered among themselves, wondering what could have prompted the rejection (because what secretive plans could you possibly have during prom?), he noticed that only renjun and sungchan remained silent. looking back, perhaps they knew more than they let on, but at the moment, he was too focused on getting answers from your friends to notice.

it’s been two weeks since that incident, and there are only two more weeks until prom. dejun and yangyang had came over for a sleepover, and right now he’s lying upside-down on his bed, listening to dejun rant about how history boy (who he later learns goes by hendery) finally asked him out to prom. yangyang’s sitting beneath him, scrolling through tiktok, unamused.

“it wasn’t anything extravagant. he asked me for a pencil like usual, and who am i to say no?” dejun begins.

yangyang shoots him an incredulous look. “anyone who asks you for a pencil everyday without making an effort to bring their own are just pathetic. didn’t you say he forgot to give you back your nice mechanical pencils for a week?”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah, but he paid me back by buying me a pack of twelve. and they were the nice papermate ones, too! anyways, as i was saying,” he continues, “i gave it to him like normal, and class went by as usual. but when he was returning it to me after class, there was a note attached to it asking me to prom-”

“and you’re swooning over that? i took you for someone who cried over love confessions in the rain, not promposals written on lined paper during history,” yangyang interrupts again. now that yukhei thinks about it, it does sound a little funny. like him, dejun has always liked romantic gestures. he never would’ve thought a written note would be the thing to sweep him off his feet.

he huffs in embarrassment, glaring at the younger. “be quiet. when you have someone to actually swoon over, you’ll understand what i mean.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “good thing i’ll be single forever.”

now that they’re on the subject of promposals, he makes the mistake of thinking back to two weeks ago. “i’m glad to hear that you’re happy. i hope you’ll have fun with hendery,” he comments.

at this, dejun and yangyang quickly turn to face him. they seem to have remembered the incident, too, evident from the guilty look in their eyes. “i’m sorry, i forgot...” dejun’s voice trails off, and yukhei suddenly wants to erase the pitying look in his eyes.

instead, he waves a dismissive hand. “it’s all good. if it comes down to it, i’ll just take yangyang with me, right?”

yangyang shrugs. “or we can just stay at my place and binge video-games and order pizza.” he pauses to ponder his suggestion before shrugging. now that he doesn’t plan on taking you, there’s no reason to go and spend the night dancing in a stuffy suit.

just then, his phone buzzes. when he glances to read the new notification, he expects everything except a message from you. since that event, you both hadn’t talked to each other very often. while it was probably because you were swamped with school and student council duties, he can’t help but wonder if you were avoiding him like he was with you.

(name) <3: hey! are you busy right now? [06:59 PM]

“who is it?” yangyang asks, sitting up to peek over his shoulder. yukhei doesn’t move his phone away fast enough, because then the younger frowns. “(name) finally texted you after what, weeks of not talking to you?”

he frowns. “in his defense, i was doing the same, too.”

“yeah, but you had a reason to. because you were upset,” dejun corrected. “did he seriously not once question why you suddenly stopped talking to him?”

he rolls his eyes. “you two make it sound more serious than it actually is. plus, he’s been busy with school. it’s not like his world revolves around me.” he pointedly decides to not add the part where it’s the opposite for him.

you: what do you need? :) [07:00 PM]

yangyang snorts. “with a smiley? dude, you’re whipped.”

“shut up.”

(name) <3: i was wondering if you could meet me at the gym at school in an hour? i’m pretty sure i left something by the bleachers, and i don’t really want to go alone;;; [07:04 PM]

yukhei raises a questioning eyebrow. did you seriously not notice how he had been avoiding you? you’ve always been sharp, so this was surprising. dejun, who’s now seated on his opposite side, seems to notice this, too. “wow, he’s really acting like nothing happened. if he knew you were upset with him, he wouldn’t have contacted you in the first place.”

“if he left something in the gym, it’s not a surprise he’d ask me. i have a spare key to the gym, after all.”

“why do you have it? shouldn’t that be mark?”

he shrugs. “he always loses his things, so he told me to hold on to it.”

yangyang nudges his shoulder. “well? what are you going to tell him?”

of course yukhei’s going to go. it’s almost dark, so it’s not safe for anyone to be out by themselves. plus, as disappointed as he is with his botched attempt of a promposal, it’s you. he can never get mad at people for long, much less if it’s you.

you: sure~ do you need a ride there? [07:06 PM]

(name) <3: no, but thanks for the offer ^^ see you then! [07:08 PM]

he turns off his phone and looks up at his friends, who are looking at him with an expectant look. “don’t give me that look. it’ll be quick, i promise.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “that’s what you said last time, and then you ended up sleeping over at (name)’s house. do you know how awkward it was, telling your mom that you practically ditched us?”

an hour later, yukhei waves farewell to dejun and yangyang, who decided to play video-games in his room to pass time. as he gets into his car and drives back to their school, he wonders what you could’ve possibly forgotten that was so important.

ten minutes later, he parks to a stop and gets out of his car. after locking it, he walks towards the gym, though he sees no signs of you.

you: hey, i just got here. are you here yet? :0 [08:20 PM]

not long after, you reply back.

(name) <3: hey!! sorry, i’ll be right there [08:20 PM]

unsure of what to do to pass time, yukhei leans against the gym doors. out of curiosity, he decides to rattle the handle to see if it’s actually locked. to his shock, the door swings open upon being pushed, leading him to a pitch black room. the alarms installed in his head, the ones from being tricked into a haunted house by his friends, go off in his head, but unsurprisingly, curiosity trumps his fear. thus, mustering all of the courage in him, he shakily turns on the flashlight on his phone and timidly steps into the gymnasium.

it’s dark and empty, like it should be. so why were the doors unlocked, he wonders? the janitor at school is quite meticulous, so he couldn’t have looked over unlocked doors. maybe...

no, this is not a horror movie, he stubbornly thinks to himself. don’t scare yourself like that! as if on cue, a loud thud echoes throughout the gym, and he stills, unable to move a single limb. this is it. oh my god, am i going to die?

from what yukhei can tell, there seems to be two - maybe three - guys, distinctly whispering among themselves by the corner. the alarms from earlier are urging him to bolt out of the gym and tell you he couldn’t make it, but fear takes over, and he’s frozen.

“...sungchan, you idiot! you’re going to give up our position!” a familiar voice hisses.

“it’s not my fault it’s too dark! you know long limbs and the dark don’t mix well together!” another whispers.

wait. now that he can hear them, the voices sound a lot like renjun’s and sungchan’s.

“renjun? sungchan?” yukhei nervously calls out. because as familiar as those voices are, they could very well be impostors that plan on killing him in the middle of the night. “is that you two?”

he can practically hear them freeze; if the lights were on, they’d probably be comically staring at each other with wide eyes. suddenly, a third voice can be heard. “i knew i should’ve asked jeno or jaemin instead,” he quietly grumbles.

he knows that voice all too well.

before he can say another word, the lights suddenly switch on, blinding him. a few seconds after he’s adjusted to the light, he blinks, and sees you standing underneath the basketball hoop, head buried behind a poster board and a bouquet of red tulips with rose petals scattered by your feet. renjun and sungchan are standing by the light switch, awkwardly waving at him. when he turns his attention back to you, his eyes widen at the poster. there are doodles of hearts and basketballs on its borders, but it’s the words in the middle that catches his attention.

will you go to prom with me?

“what... what is all of this?” yukhei asks, dumbfounded.

seeing how you’re flushed with embarrassment, refusing to remove your head from the poster, renjun steps up. “it’s a promposal. what else could this be?”

his eyes wander back to your shrunken frame, and he can see you timidly peeking behind the poster board. “um... surprise?”

still stunned, he slowly walks to you, shoes brushing against the rose petals. “i can tell... but, i thought...?”

knowing what’s to come, you sheepishly smile. “i spent a long time trying to come up with something that you’d like, since i know you like big, romantic gestures. i turned you down because i wanted to be the one who asked you,” you explain, fiddling with the bouquet.

“wait, wait. when you said you had plans that day...?”

“i was lying,” you laugh. “i didn’t expect you to ask me, so i just came up with a lame excuse on the whim. i’m really sorry for upsetting you, but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

now yukhei knows why renjun and sungchan were so quiet the day he asked your friends about your alleged plans on prom. there are still a few questions he has, but he’s relieved to see everything led to this surprise. at least now he doesn’t need to fret about his insecurities.

“how’d you get in here?” he asks, intertwining his fingers with yours.

you hum, relishing this newfound warmth. “i begged the janitor to leave the doors unlocked. i told him you had keys, and he knows that i’m more reliable compared to others,” you answer.

“so all of the times when you said you were busy...”

you laugh, throwing your head back. “that was the one thing i wasn’t lying about. school and the student council really was kicking my ass.” you point your chin towards renjun and sungchan, who wave. “they helped me with some of the preparations, like ordering the flowers and making the poster.”

yukhei nods. “everything makes so much more sense now... but i just have one more question.” you look at him with curious eyes. “why the gym of all places?”

you shoot him an incredulous look. “did you seriously forget?” judging by the confused look he gives you, you can tell he really did. “you remember the game against the jyp team two years ago, before basketball season ended?” he nods. “right before you guys played them, you pointed straight at me and asked me to be your boyfriend if you guys won.”

he flushes at the memory; in a stand jam-packed with spectators, he remembers only having eyes on you, the cute boy from algebra. prior to that game, you two were already acquainted, even going on a few dates here and there. there was an obvious attraction between you two, but no one had officially initiated anything until that day. he remembers you spluttering in embarrassment, having nearly everyone bore their eyes into you, as well as coming scarily close to losing against the opposing team. but alas, he and his team had triumphed, and while they celebrated, you bashfully accepted his offer and spent way too long making out in the back of his car.

he can’t believe he forgot that he had asked you to be his in this exact place two years ago.

he’s pulled out of his head when you clear your throat, brandishing the bouquet of tulips before him. “you never answered my question,” you whisper.

yukhei doesn’t even need to think about his answer. “of course it’s a yes,” he exclaims, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. you giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his neck. there’s cheering from across the room, but he only sees you. right now, you’re standing before him, suddenly brighter than ever, and he wouldn’t trade this sight for the world, even if it meant having to go through two weeks of unnecessary frustration to get here.

it’s only prom, not a marriage proposal. there isn’t a reason why they should be acting like newlyweds, yet here they are. but even if they’re only third year students in high school, he knows, without a shred of doubt that he’s in love with you. even if they don’t truly grasp the idea of what love really is, the sheer fullness he feels when he’s with you couldn’t possibly be from anything else.

“you know,” he begins, “i asked you on a simple sushi date because i knew you didn’t like big, flashy things. but here you are, pulling this stunt because you know i like them. we’re just a perfect match, aren’t we?” you roll at your eyes at his cockiness, as well as his suggestive eyebrows, but the smile on your face tells him you agree.

yukhei’s peppering your face with kisses, and all you can do is giggle as you take them. “they act like they’re getting married,” he hears sungchan comment from afar.

“they might as well be. god, couples are so gross.”

“you’re one to talk. you and jeno-hyung act like that all of the time.”

“what! sungchan, come on, don’t joke around like that. we don’t.”

“yeah right.”

“but we don’t, right? ...RIGHT?”

#nct #nct u #wayv #superm #kpop #cpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #wayv x reader #wayv x male reader #superm x reader #superm x male reader #lucas #wong yukhei #lucas x reader #lucas x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

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aellynera · 4 years ago

Text

The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder.

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday.

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor.

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.”

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing.

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves.

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

“Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

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masterhandss · 4 years ago

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HameFura LN5 - A Lady for Nicol (theory)

While we all love all the harem members for Katarina, but in the end she’s just one person and only one person can reign as the victor of her heart.

One of my most favorite theories/observations that came from the bakarina reddit discord is the importance of the “Lady” from Light Novel Volume 5, who was the main character alongside Nicol is their chapter in that book. The lady isn’t given a name or a physical description in her chapter which could indicate that her role is merely that of a plot device in order to prevent Nicol from giving up on Katarina’s hand. Her constant support and encouragement of Nicol’s feelings is what encourages him to continue pursuing her despite already graduating in the academy by Volume 5, cementing Nicol’s place in the harem, and yet for some people this chapter implied something else; feeling like this lady will be a contender for Nicol’s end-game love interest once Katarina chooses.

A few users on the discord pointed out how wonderful it would be for Nicol to end up with this Lady, given how strong and admirable her personality was build up to despite only appearing for a single chapter. She’s smart, honest, independent and can carry a conversation; which is a lot of traits that Nicol seems to like in a partner.

It is possible that this Lady will never be named and become her own character (unless the Second Season of the anime adapts his chapter and introduces her to everyone as a filler scene), but it is still possible for her to return as a future candidate for Nicol’s partner as the series eliminates the competition for Katarina’s heart.

Despite all this though, who could really say that we don’t know this character yet?

I propose that as of Volume 9 (the most recent JP release of the novels), we already know who the Lady from Volume 5 is!

It’s all just a matter of observation/elimination!

Spoilers for the light novels and a lil bit from the webnovel!

Edit (2/13/21): I added a lil more!

I believe that the identity of the Lady that Nicol met during his matchmaking meetings is none other than Fray Randall, the student council president of the Magic Academy in Volume 6.

Quick note, J-Novels translated Fray’s name to “Fray Landoor”, but its supposed to be Fray Randall. I mean without even pulling out the kanji for Fray’s surname, you read it out loud ‘Landoor’ as “Ran-do-ru” in japanese, in the same way you’d read ‘Randall”. Regardless if you pull out a raw version of the novels or google translate both surnames, you get the same characters of “ランドール“, proving that Fray is from the Marquis of Randall. The connection is even more undeniable considering the fact that Fray is described as a girl with black hair and blue eyes in LN6, just like Suzanna.

Part 1 - Fray and the Lady

First, lets establish what we know about the Lady:

She is from a high ranking family

She is a member of the Student Council in Katarina’s final year in the Academy (an underclassman that is close with Katarina)

She gives an allusive, strong and resilient impression

She is very intelligent, talented and has a high magical aptitude (evident in the fact that she is in the Student Council)

She is very curious and perceptive about other people

She admires Lana Smith (Suzanna Randall)

She is very supportive of Nicol’s feelings for Katarina

She has no intention of marrying and wants to work independently in the Magic Ministry

She is the 5th and last candidate for Nicol’s fiancee

Before going to Fray, I just want to establish something for those who do not know: Light Novel Volume 6 isn’t the first time we’ve seen Fray. She, as well as her best friend Ginger, are already well established characters even before the Volume 5 was published, because those two characters comes from an extra web novel chapter that was not adapted into the first arc (the first two books) of the novels. The extra chapter is called “About the Duke’s Daughter” which tells the tale of Ginger Tucker’s experience of meeting Katarina. The chapter itself doesn’t introduce anything new about Fray, other than the fact that the Randalls are a Marquis Family, but the chapter will come up again later.

Now, lets establish what we know about Fray Randall:

She is from the Marquis of Randall, a high ranking family

She is the next president of the Student Council in Katarina’s final year in the Academy (an underclassman that is close with Katarina)

She is well-mannered, polite and charming

She is very intelligent, talented and has a high magical aptitude (evident in the fact that she is in the Student Council)

She is quite perceptive when it comes to the feelings of her tsundere friend Ginger

She is most likely related to Suzanna Randall (as they share the same last name; either sisters or cousins)

She is very supportive of Ginger’s feelings for Katarina

I probably don’t need to make a chart to emphasize the similarities of these two characters (but i’ll still compare anyways). I know not everything lines up, especially when it comes to their personality. We haven’t seen too much of Fray to write a perfectly accurate description of her, all we know is that she behaves like a perfect noblewoman in front of others but is also quite cheeky when it comes to teasing her friend Ginger about her admiration for their Katarina-senpai.

That isn’t to say that there are no other similarities between them! Nicol has noted a few times how smart sounding and well-mannered the lady is, which while does apply to most ladies, it should still be considered. Both Fray and the Lady have perfect etiquette, but has a more energetic and outspoken personality. The Lady reminds me a lot of Suzanna Randall, and that comparison makes me feel like the Lady could be Fray, because of how likely it is that Suzanna’s little sister/cousin could be as brazen and independent as she is.

Both Fray and the Lady are open minded people. the Lady does not care about the existing culture of high society and wants to act independently. Fray does not care about the culture of high society and accepts Ginger despite her normal appearance and low status.

Both Fray and the Lady as very supportive of another’s characters feelings for Katarina, aka Ginger and Nicol respectively. Both characters insisted that their friends accept their feelings of love/admiration, and to act on them. Anyone who has seen either the web novel chapter knows that Fray and Ginger are very close to Katarina and the harem, which is important because the Lady specifically got all the tea about Nicol liking Katarina from Sophia.

Both Fray and the Lady are from high ranking families. Specifically, Fray is a Marchioness, which is a rank higher than Nicol.

Speaking of the Marquis of Randalls, the Lady has voiced her admiration about her idol: a woman who works for the Magic Ministry but isn’t of a high ranking family. She is most likely talking about Lana Smith (aka Suzanna’s alter ego). The Lady mentions that her family highly opposes her desires to work in the Ministry and insists that she marries instead.

Suzanna in Volume 3 and 4 implies the same things: despite her desires to study magic, she is forced by her parents to attend matchmaking events in order to find a fiancée (which ended up becoming Geoffrey) and it is not hard to surmise that her family is one of the reasons she hides her identity in the Ministry. If Fray is from the same family, then she will most likely be receiving the same treatment.

We cannot say whether of not the Lady admiring Lana Smith is an indication that she knows who Lana is. There is the possibility that the Lady admires Lana but isn’t aware of her identity at all, but there’s also the possibility that the Lady does know who Lana is and gave Lana’s fake story as to not blow her cover. If the Lady really is Fray, then both sides of the theory can do wonders for her character.

Both Fray and the Lady are smart and magically-talented, as you can tell by the fact that they are both in the Student Council. In fact, Fray is so smart and talented that she will eventually succeed Gerald as President in the Magic Academy! Doesn’t that remind anybody of a certain Randall who is also a prodigy?

Part 2 - Katarina’s Underclassmen in the Student Council

Speaking of the Student Council, one of my key arguments as to why I think Fray Randall is Nicol’s Lady from Volume 5 is because of the web novel chapter “About the Duke’s Daughter” featuring Ginger. In the light novels, Fray was introduced in Volume 6 while the Lady is introduced in Volume 5. Since the web novel chapter was never published, LN6 is the new introductions of Fray and Ginger.

In the anime and light novels, it is identified that in Sirius and Nicol’s batch, there were 7 members of the student council (Sirius, Nicol, Girl 1, Girl 2, Boy 1, Boy 2 and Boy 3), and in Katarina’s batch there is 6 student council members (Gerald, Keith, Alan, Mary, Sophia and Maria). With that we can assume that their is typically 6-7 new freshmens to join the student council every year (push it to 6-8 if you want but I’m going with 7)

First draft of my fan designs for Ginger Tucker and Fray Randall btw :DD

I made Fray look too sweet in this doodle, she’s a sass-pants I swear!

Like I already said before, both Fray and the Lady are members of the student council, who are close to Katarina. Knowing only the light novels, one might assume that it is impossible to determine how many members Fray and Ginger’s batch of council freshmens are, but in reality its pretty easy.

I’m not going to say that out of the freshmens, Katarina is only close to Fray and Ginger, since they are the only ones to show up in Volume 6, but I will agree that it is likely. If we go by the estimates of 6-8 council members per batch, we’ll go in the middle and say that Ginger’s batch has 7 student council members as Katarina is in her final year.

In the web novel chapter “About the Duke’s Daughter”, there is a scene where Ginger is being bad mouthed by 3 of her female peers in the student council room. Here’s the scene from the web novel chapter (in Ginger’s POV):

There was something I didn't understand in class that day so after visiting the teacher, I went to the student council room and arrived later than usual. Then some of the same classmates, who were members of the student council seemed to be ahead, and I heard voices talking from inside.

'What's with her attitude! I'm so angry at her, that Ginger Tucker." "Indeed! What can we even do about her?" "Being so prideful just because she's a little smart"

I unintentionally pulled my hand from the door handle. This is a scene I can't enter.

So it can't be helped. It was then that I thought I should wait a little before entering.

"I don't think Ginger is like that at all"

Perhaps she was there the entire time, as now a voice of a third-party spoke in between their angry voices.

"K-Katarina-sama? Were you here this entire time?" In a surprised voice, it turns out the those girls were not aware of Katarina's presence.

With this we can identify 5 out of 7 of the student council members, with the final two we can assume that they are either two guys or one guy and one girl (but its most likely the prior.

We would have <Ginger, Fray, Girl 1, Girl 2, Girl 3, Boy 1 and Boy 2>.

But that begs the question, who is the Lady? Is there only 1 male student in the freshmen batch of the student council, with the Lady filling that last spot, or is the Lady among the 5 girls we’ve established? Or are there 8 student council members instead? I don’t need to answer my own questions, you do the math :))

Of course there’s the possibility that the author is disregarding this webnovel chapter and creates a new freshmen batch from scratch, but while The Lady nor Fray has yet to be adapted into the manga and anime, i’ll take this as a win for me.

Edit (2/13/21): A thought just occurred to me while reading the japanese wiki!

Ginger, in the webnovel chapter, has made it perfectly clear that she wants to join the Ministry to become independent. The “Lady”, in Volume 5, has made it perfectly clear that she wants to join the Ministry to be like her idol, Lana Smith (Suzanna Randall).

With that in mind, doesn’t that increase the chances of the “Lady” being Fray Randall?? because the two best friends want to eventually join the Ministry and join their senpais and idols??? it wouldn’t make sense if it was Ginger and another character from the student council third batch that we don’t know of!

Anyways, that's it for this hamefura theory. I might edit this if there's new information to come around. With the announcement of the Second Season, there’s a very high possibility that this chapter will be adapted as filler. It is possible that we will meet this lady, or maybe even Fray, whichever comes first.

The Lady most likely is just the plot device though, but we do what we can with what we have lol.

Regardless if this theory is correct or not, I think I made a pretty strong case! Thank you for reading!

#mh talks #my next life as a villainess #hamefura #hamehura #bakarina #destruction flag otome #otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta #nicol ascart #katarina claes #hamefura theory #fray randall #suzanna randall #my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom

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lilacpotter · 4 years ago

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Lillaaaccc!!!! Your layout is soo pretty 😭😭 I love the purple so much and thr header with planets and stars fhdjsjs 🥺🥺

Imma in love 😌💕

Also.. pls post some drabble 😭😭 I miss reading your work. Pls. Short drabble would work too. I smile sooo much when I read your drabbles fjdjd 😭😭

Pls 👉🏼👈🏼

Okay bye. Love you 😌💕

Broooo!! First of all, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY DHARAA!! omgg ❤

And thank youuuUuU. <333

I’m so fucking sorry I’m this late but I got it finally done. And pleassseee, take this more than 8k words “drabble” as your birthday gifttt!! I’m not sure how it really is but I hope it’s gooddd aah. I had been writing and rewriting it for the past three days djhsfsf 😫😹

Here we gooo <3:-

5 and 7

“What if I stole your crown right now?”

Those were the last words little Isak got to hear before prince Even snatched the golden crown with a mischievous grin and started running away. He chased after him, screaming in agony. He was dramatic, yes, so what? He was five and he could throw a tantrum if he wanted to. And also, don’t you dare call him little. He was big for his age and smart too.

He sped up his pace, trying to run as fast as he could in this thorny garden with his little prince feet, his golden curls tossing here and there on his head. But Even was taller and faster than him, so he outran Isak within no time with his giraffe legs, and Isak came to a stop somewhere in the middle, panting and falling onto the grass backward with a dramatic sigh. He laid there star-fished and watched the sky instead for a while.

It was autumn and the leaves were falling on his small face and it was warm and Even was back here in Oslo after a whole year, at the Valtersen palace. Even’s parents ruled a small country named Phitogin in the east side, and even if it wasn’t nearly as big as Norsk was, they were really close to Isak’s parents since their own childhood. So, they always paid a visit to Oslo every year during autumn and that was the only time Isak ever got to see Even and play with him and make sandcastles and blanket forts.

He squinted up his eyes at the bright sun, as if commanding it to shine a bit lesser, but of course, that wasn’t possible. He knew the sun was way bigger than earth and way hotter than the royal soup that was served to him whenever he fell sick. He wouldn’t dare mess with the sun.

He was about to put a hand over his face to shield himself instead, surrender to the great sun, when a dark shadow blocked the light above him.

“Hello, my little prince,” Even was grinning down at him mischievously, his hands behind his back.

Isak narrowed his eyes and sat up straight. “Where is my crown?” he demanded.

“Who knows?” Even shrugged, still keeping his hands behind himself. And Isak knew he was hiding the crown there.

So he pounced up and tried to grab Even by the shirt, but Even was quicker because he moved away in time.

“Give it back to me!” Isak yelled, jumping again. Even grinned wider, dodging him.

“No, little prince. You will ruin my hard work if you see it.”

“Don’t call me that,” Isak said, offended. “I am not little!”

Even smirked. “Oh yes, you are. You are very little, tiny. Look, you are even smaller than me!” And then he burst out laughing.

“I am not!!” Isak glared at him. He was not little. So he launched himself on top of Even to attack him. They both wrestled for a few minutes furiously, punching each other’s stomachs before falling to the ground on top of each other, breathing heavily.

When Isak opened his green eyes back up again Even was hovering above him, putting his crown back on his head quietly. Isak frowned and moved his hands up to touch the crown and see for himself what Even had done to it, but he didn’t let him and instead removed the crown again.

“Even, show me my crown!” Isak complained, reaching up.

“No, you will ruin it!” Even refused, shaking his head.

Isak grew more suspicious, so with narrowed eyes, he warned Even, “If you broke it or put tiny worms on top of it then I am not going to share my space blanket with you tonight.” He poked his little finger into Even’s chest to tell him how serious he was being.

Both of them knew how much Isak loved his space blanket and how much he loved sharing it with Even and the people he liked. If Isak refused to share it with anyone then it meant he didn’t like them enough.

Even, instead of being scared of Isak’s warning, grinned back at him again, all teeth and crinkles.

“Oh no, little prince. I wouldn’t dare break it or do anything such horrendous to your precious crown!” He said, widening his eyes dramatically.

Isak squinted his eyes at him. “Really?”

Even nodded furiously before slowly bringing his hands to the front, holding Isak’s golden crown in between his palms. It was shining in the afternoon sun as usual, too bright and too lustrous, but as Isak leaned in a bit nearer he noticed designs of pretty flowers all over it. Even had doodled on his crown.

Isak took his crown gently before looking at all the doodles. There were so many colourful flowers and they were all really pretty. There was one of Isak sitting on a throne, and another one of Adolph, their pet dog, and another one of Isak and Even on the bed watching the stars above them. There were just so many of them and they made the crown look so much better!

Isak was smiling without even knowing, his heart was flying, but Even probably had noticed it because he suddenly asked, “Do you like it?”

Isak could hear the smile in his voice. So, he morphed his face back, trying to look more annoyed than pleased, and glared at Even.

“No, I hate it! You ruined my crown, Even.” He said to his face trying to sound furious.

But Even grinned at him instead. “Oh really? Then why is there a smile on your face?”

Isak widened his eyes, turning red. “What? No there isn’t!” he protested, but he couldn’t stop smiling. And soon within no time Even laughing loudly.

“Oh my god, you’re such a bad liar!” He giggled.

Isak rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Shut up! I am leaving.” He said, before turning away and stomping dramatically to the castle.

“Of course you love what I did to your crown, little prince. I do too. I’ll make you more of these the next time we meet!” He heard Even shout from behind him loudly and Isak ducked his head, picked up a tiny rock, and threw it back at Even, missing him narrowly.

7 and 9

“Ugh, why do we always have to sleep together whenever you visit me? Why can’t you sleep in your own separate room?” Isak complained loudly to the dark, sighing when he got no reply.

So, he shuffled closer and pushed Even’s chest. “Evennnnnn!” he whined when the older boy let out another soft snore and pulled Isak’s blanket much tighter around himself.

“Hmph,” Isak sighed in defeat before slumping back and resorted to just staring at the dark instead when Even finally spoke.

“Maybe it’s because they think you are too little to be sleeping on your own at night.” There was too much sarcasm in his voice and Isak turned to him in surprise and suspicion.

“You were awake?!” He screamed in offense.

Even grinned at him in the dark, his teeth shining bright. “Did you actually think I had been sleeping this whole time?!”

Isak couldn’t believe him. “Oh my god,”

“Yes, and what’s wrong with me sleeping here?” said Even, shuffling closer to Isak noisily.

“Nothing is wrong.” Isak huffed. “You just keep stealing my blanket and I get cold!”

Even shuffled much closer until he was almost hugging Isak from the side. “Oh, I’m really sorry about that, your grace. But look! Sleeping together is not really that bad because you get to cuddle me and I’m much warmer than your precious blanket.” Even said, wrapping Isak’s little body with his arms and pulling the younger boy into himself.

Isak squirmed against him, groaning. “Ugh, go away!”

“Never in a million years,” Even mumbled, shoving his face on top of Isak’s fluff of curls. They were a tangle of skinny limbs.

“ugh,”

Isak tried moving away but he was failing so hard at it. So he gave up a while later and slumped against Even’s chest, feeling his chest rise and fall back as he breathed. He felt oddly at peace a while later and drifted into sleep easily. The blanket lay forgotten by the corner of the bed.

11 and 13

“What if we sneaked into the kitchen right now?” Even suddenly said, sounding excited.

Isak groaned at him. “No way. We won’t be sneaking out to the kitchen right now in the middle of the night.”

“But we will!”

“We won’t,”

He saw Even pout at him in the dark. He had gotten a new haircut and he looked ridiculous and although it shouldn’t have bothered Isak, it did. He couldn’t get to bury his fingers into those long blonde strands of hair from now on.

“But I’m hungry,” Even mumbled. “Pleaseeee, let’s go.”

Isak shook his head. “No one is hungry at night, Even. Stop making things up.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are?”

But Even wasn’t listening. He got up and already started pulling Isak up by his hands. Isak let out a loud groan before giving in and following the older boy out of the room.

It was dark outside and so they tip-toed quietly down the stairs. At one point they were almost caught when a guard heard Even’s stomach growling in hunger. They giggled to themselves and sneaked through the corridors and halls until they finally reached the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, they both started shoving as many food items as they could in their pockets. Even tried carrying half-eaten raspberry cake from the day before but he slipped and ruined it instead. Isak laughed out so loud that he was sure he had woken someone up but thank god no one stopped them.

It was chaos. But they were finally done, looking more chubbier and puffed up because of all those food stuffed in their pockets. They were giggling silently as they walked back out of the kitchen when they stopped dead as they spotted a boy of about Isak’s age staring at them in shock.

It was Magnus. He was the butler’s son.

13 and 15

“Do you think any one of them will like me?” Magnus asked, sitting beside Isak and eating large ice cream.

Isak wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying because his eyes were trained on Even. Even had gotten much taller recently and his hair was longer and he looked even more prettier. Shit. No, not pretty. He looked good. But Isak couldn’t help but think it was such an understatement. Even had even started getting a bit of muscle.

Isak watched him smile and beam and flirt with other girls in the castle hall. A weird kind of jealousy was stemming up in his body and he had no idea why. It was weird and new and made him feel all jittery.

“They look so pretty, don’t they?” Magnus was saying beside him.

Isak nodded absently. Yes, he is really pretty.

“I have never even talked to them, forget about touching them. Their skin looks so soft, Isak. I just want to touch them once. Isak, are you even listening?”

Magnus’s voice snapped Isak out of his thoughts and he blushed. “Uh, what?”

“The girls!” Magnus whined, nodding over to the bunch of girls who all looked way too interested in what Even had to say. Isak hated them. “Aren’t they beautiful? Why are girls so pretty?”

Isak bit his lip and nodded. “Even, uh, boys are pretty sometimes, I think.” He said slowly before he realised what he had just said and his heart sped up. Oh no.

Magnus hummed beside him, considering. “True. Even is really pretty if I’m being honest.” He stated it as a fact and Isak snapped his head up to look at him.

“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

“What?” Magnus laughed in confusion. “Even is pretty. That’s why girls love talking to him, isn’t it?”

Isak’s mouth was parted slightly. He just stared at Magnus for a few seconds before looking down, his cheeks flaming. “I guess so, yeah, um, Even is really pretty.”

“I told you!” Magnus hollered in joy. “I want to be pretty too. So girls would want to talk to me too. Don’t you think?”

Isak nodded again, biting his lip.

“I’m really pretty, huh?” Even’s voice came over and Isak looked up to see that he was walking over to them both. Oh, God. Had he heard what Isak had just said? It was going to be bad.

Isak flipped him off instead of saying anything and that earned him an ‘Oyy’ from a very surprised and an amused Even.

“We have already started learning this kind of things, I see.” He nodded over to Isak’s middle finger which was still sticking out in his direction.

“Magnus taught me.” Isak shrugged and then watched Magnus hug Even tightly for a moment before letting him go.

“We were just talking about how pretty you are, bro.” Magnus said, looking excited and Isak blushed again. Gosh, Magnus. Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth?

Even looked at Isak with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, really? Yeah, I did hear the prince say how pretty I am. It’s an honour for me really.” He smirked and Isak wanted to combust right then and there. “You should start calling me ‘pretty prince’ from now on then, Issy. It’s a nice name, isn’t it? Just like yours is, little prince.”

“Why are you such a dick?” Isak said, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy.

Even laughed out loud and when Isak flipped him off again, Even blew him a kiss instead went back to join the girls, this time taking a very excited Magnus along with him, leaving Isak feeling all flustered.

Gosh, why was he feeling like this recently? Isak did not like it. It was weird and just strange. He had never felt like this around Even before. And the fact that recently most of his dreams consisted only of Even touching him in weird places was also not helping things at all.

What the hell was really happening?

14 and 16

“Even, are you even listening?!” Isak said tiredly for the fourth time that day, but Even still kept staring blankly in the opposite direction.

So Isak reached his hand out that held his wooden sword and poked Even in the stomach. “Asshole!”

At that finally, Even looked up at him in surprise.

“Should I tell the queen you have started swearing nowadays? Hmm?” He broke into a mischievous grin.

Isak sighed exhaustedly. “We are learning to sword fight and you keep zoning out all the time! What’s up with you? Stop thinking of your girlfriend all the time.” He said, spitting the word ‘girlfriend’ out with as much spite as he could muster. Yes, he was frustrated and annoyed and pissed right now, so what?

Even had gotten himself a girlfriend two months back. Princess Sonja of the realm of Sweden. And she was all he ever talked about. Of course, Isak had a right to be pissed.

Even rolled his eyes this time. “I am not thinking of Sonja, excuse me. I’m listening.”

“No you are not!” Isak countered back, waving his wooden sword around.

“I am! I am not thinking of her, Issy, now come on, let’s practice.”

“Yes, you are!” Isak said back, pausing his practice entirely. “You are always thinking of Sonja. You always spend your time with her, kissing her and complimenting her and telling her she looks good and I bet you wouldn’t sleep in my room anymore if your mum allowed you to sleep along with Sonja! Of course, she is always on your mind. You forgot about me. It’s as if I don’t even exist to you! And now you can’t even practice sword fighting with me because you are always only thinking of her.”

He exhaled deeply after his outburst, and he knew there were tears in his eyes, hot, burning tears. but he was keeping them at bay from falling down and making him look weak. He wasn’t weak. Even was watching him back with wide eyes, his mouth falling open slightly.

“That’s not true.” He whispered finally, after a beat. “I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you, Is.”

His eyes were blue, blue, blue.

Isak stared into them for a few seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore and had to turn away. His heart broke a little inside. He never thought hearts could break, he had always believed that was all bullshit. But apparently, it was true.

Oh gosh, he was being super emotional again. So he wiped his tears and tried to shed off his sad feelings. He wasn’t weak.

“Doesn’t matter. I am just gonna practice and you can just keep thinking about your pretty girlfriend.” He mumbled before swinging his sword onto the big loaf of meat hanging in front of him.

He gave it a couple more shoves. Up and down. Right and left. Hard and quick. He hit the sack again and again, at various spots, from various angles, with various tricks and moves. It was hard, but he knew it was worth it. If he was going to be a king someday, then he had to be ready.

Even kept standing beside him, and Isak hated that no matter how much he tried he couldn’t not pay attention to Even. Had he zoned out again while standing there? Thinking of Sonja?

But then Even spoke and Isak groaned, “What if we ditched dinner and went to the garden right now?”

Isak frowned deeply. “No way, I’m not coming.”

“Yes, you are.” Even smirked before walking up to him and snatching the wooden sword and throwing it to a pile on the corner.

No way. Isak was not going to agree to him this time.

Isak found himself laying on the green grassy ground and staring up at the orange-hued sky half an hour later. His head was on Even’s lap and Even was weaving his long fingers through his sweaty curls.

“Stop doing that. I smell gross and I’m sweaty.” Isak mumbled when Even started running his fingers all over Isak’s face. It tickled him so he laughed.

“You look so beautiful when you laugh,” Even said softly, staring down into his eyes and cupping his jaw.

“Ugh, stop,” Isak rolled his eyes, but he was blushing.

“Never, not in a million years.”

Isak smelled in the flowers’ scent and relaxed. “I can’t believe I am actually here with my head on your fucking lap of all places.” He scoffed quietly.

Even chuckled from behind him. But he was too busy to reply apparently because he was ruffling around the garden, plucking something off. Isak couldn’t see properly so he watched the sky again, at the birds and the clouds. Everything was going good.

When he felt something on his head a while later he looked up at Even, silently asking him what it was.

“I made you a flower crown,” Even said simply, resuming to arrange it on Isak’s head properly.

“But flowers are for girls. Not for boys. You should keep it on Sonja’s head instead.” Isak mumbled.

Even scoffed from above him. “There is no such rule like that. Who’s teaching you all these?” He sounded truly disappointed.

Isak shrugged, his shoulders shaking Isak’s legs beneath them. “The royal teachers? People? Isn’t it how it always is?”

Even made a small sound, disagreeing with what Isak had just said. “Flowers are for everyone, Isak. For boys, for girls, for animals, and for everyone and everything, okay? There is no such thing as only meant for girls, or only meant for boys. You can do whatever you want. Stop believing this stuff you hear, Isak. You have always loved flowers, what happened to you now?”

Isak shrugged again, his heart felt heavy. He knew he loved flowers even now. He had always loved them. But mamma had always told him to not like girly things, that he was a boy and that he was supposed to like wars and horses and rough things, not things that are soft and pretty. He wasn’t a girl.

“Do you really think it’s okay if I like flowers?” He asked, his voice small.

Even sighed quietly above him and then he bent down slowly before kissing Isak’s forehead. Isak inhaled sharply at that.

“You are allowed to like whatever you want, okay? No one makes rules here, Is. Stop believing what others are telling you to do. You are my valiant prince and you will be a great king. A great king does not fear liking what he likes.” Even murmured to him, weaving through his curls again. “A great king is not afraid to be himself. Will you be a great king for me, Isak?”

“For you?” Isak licked his lips.

“Yes, for me.”

“Yes. I would do anything for you.” Isak admitted out loud, and he was surprised by his own boldness.

He heard Even smile when he said. “So would I,”

Isak blushed at that and ducked his gaze down, away from Even’s face. And watched the early stars. He loved spending time like this with Even. He hadn’t done this in so long. It felt good that Isak could take his mind off Sonja for a while.

“You look really pretty in a flower crown, do you know?” Even hummed from above him.

He retreated his hand back from his hair and cupped Isak’s jaw again, tilting his head so that he could look into his eyes. “You are so pretty,” he said, making Isak blush again.

“Ugh, fuck off,”

“What? I’m not lying. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen,” Even said, widening his eyes in honesty but he was also grinning.

Isak wanted to punch him. “Even more prettier than Sonja?” He asked instead, averting his gaze away from Even’s intense gaze. He regretted it the moment it was out of his mouth. God, Isak.

He had no idea how long it was, but when they finally got up from there and got back to the castle, it was completely dark. The only thing that was shining were the moon, stars, and Even’s eyes.

Isak showered and got dressed in the softest pajamas before getting into his bed and reading some thick book that he had found in the library.

He wasn’t really expecting anything when Even finally climbed into his bed quietly an hour later and it was dark, pitch black. Isak pretended to be asleep, so he snored softly, and it also helped that he was turned away from Even.

Even tossed and turned around for a while, before cuddling Isak from the back. Isak tensed up a little in his hands before he melted against Even’s chest. Why was he being this tense? They did this all the time. So he leaned back and let Even cuddle him instead. It felt really good, and he felt warm and his eyes started fluttering on their own in no time. He wasn’t expecting anything even when he was just drifting into his sleep slowly, but then he heard Even softly murmur against his ear, “Even prettier than Sonja.”

It almost brought him out of his sleepy daze. Almost.

16 and 18

“Shut up,”

“What do you mean, ‘shut up,’ I’m just trying to fix your bangs. You look pretty when you are grumpy, you know?”

“Shut up!”

“Alright, but don’t you think it will be a bit too much if I pulled my shirt up right here at the hall?”

“Oh my god!”

“All the girls would start swooning at me because I am so hot- ouch!”

Isak punched him in the stomach before hastily pulling his hand back and smiling at the guests. Even watched him with wide eyes by his side.

“You don’t think I’m hot?!” He whispered in outrage. Isak didn’t give him the satisfaction of a grumpy snarky reply.

They were both in costly suits, standing at one side of the hall and greeting all the guests awkwardly. It was the royal ball and somehow people from many other countries visited here to have a nice time. Although most of them called him the ‘little prince Isak,” whenever they greeted him. Fuck you, he was not little anymore.

There was also this princess Emma who seemed way too fond of Isak because she kept looking over to him every now and then before turning away shyly.

Isak wasn’t fond of her.

“I can’t believe you just punched a prince in the stomach.” Even mumbled by his side.

Isak rolled his eyes at him. “I am a prince too.”

Even reached his hand out again and started fixing Isak’s collar with a concentrated look. “Yes you are, little prince.”

“ugh, stop,” Isak groaned.

“Never,”

“Hey guys!” It was Magnus, holding a tray of drinks and serving it to everyone. He looked adorable in his outfit.

“Hey, Mags! My bro.” Even greeted cheerily before hugging Magnus tightly.

Isak smiled at them both and took a drink off the tray. Magnus looked pleased to see two people he knew after all that crowd of new, strange, rich people.

“Bros, just look at all those princesses!” He said excitedly, leaning in and waving a hand over to the bunch of pretty girls with crowns on their forehead. They were all eyeing Isak and Even hungrily and Isak wished he could escape. But his mamma and papa were watching him, so he couldn’t do that. “They are all just eating you with their eyes. Isak, man, what are you waiting for?! Go get one of them!” Magnus hollered.

“Nah, Mags. Not yet.” Isak said, sipping his drink.

“What do you mean ‘not yet’, bro?! They all look so pretty though! Go get some, and tell me how it went.” Magnus demanded.

Before Isak could reply, Even jumped in. “Isak is waiting for the right moment to score with Princess Emma, Mags. That’s why,”

Magnus looked around and when he spotted Emma, his eyes went wide and mischievous. He wiggled his eyebrows at Isak. “Oooh. Princess Emma, Issy?”

Isak‘s jaw tightened a little but he nodded slowly. Emma caught his eyes just then and he waved back to her awkwardly. She looked pleased with that gesture while the remaining princesses were scowling at her.

“Fuck, man. She looks so into you. What are you waiting for? Go get it or she will go for me instead if you wait any longer!” Magnus yelled into his ear loudly before leaving them both to serve other guests.

Isak swallowed and looked up at Even, who was gazing back at him.

“I am gonna go get her then,” he said, fixing his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Even said instead, helping him fix his shirt. He tucked Isak’s shirt tightly into his dark pants making him squirm under his touch.

“Yes, but I want to.” Isak lied.

“Don’t lie, Issy. Do you even like her?” Even frowned at him, keeping a hand on the small of his back.

“I’m not lying!” Isak lied. “I really like her. She is very pretty.” And then he shrugged himself off from Even’s touch and headed over to Emma.

An hour later, he found himself trying to dance with princess Emma. It was tough because they were both only teens and none of them knew how to dance or where to put their hands so they kept stomping each other’s feet instead. It was awkward, to say the least. But Emma didn’t seem to mind so much, she giggled and kissed his cheek and touched his hair, so Isak smiled back at her and tried his best because both his mamma and papa were watching and they looked really happy and proud of him. He was going to be the heir to the throne, after all, it was his duty to form strong bonds with other country rulers, and what was a better way than stealing their daughter’s hearts.

So, Isak danced and flirted and got drinks for Emma wishing there was another better way.

When they both were done, Isak headed out to the corridor to breathe in a bit of air and hoping to get away from Emma for a bit, but she found him again within no time. That girl really was too much. Isak felt like she was breathing down his neck every time she got too close to him. She was way too loud and way too giggly and kept falling all over Isak and touching him everywhere she could.

He wanted to combust right then and there. But Even appeared beside him just then like a knight in shining armour.

“You both are having a good time, I see,” he grinned at them both, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We are! Prince Isak is really charming.” Emma giggled from where she had both her hands wrapped around Isak’s neck.

Isak blushed because for some reason he couldn’t stand Even watching him like this.

“What if I do something stupid to save your ass from princess Emma right now?” Even leaned in, whispering into Isak’s ear so quietly that only he could hear.

Isak widened his eyes at him at that, then shook his head minutely saying ‘no,’ but Even just shrugged and grinned back at Emma.

Oh god.

“Oh, he really is very charming. No doubt.” Even agreed, sipping on his drink and leaning suavely against the wall. “Girls all over the city have a massive crush on him, you know.”

Isak looked over to Even with wide eyes. But Even wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Emma.

“Oh,” Emma said, her voice was filled with surprise. “Really?”

Even hummed. “Yes, most of those girls are even ready to jump in to marry Isak if he asks them. They are that gone for him. He really charms them all well.”

Isak was barely understanding what Even was on about. This was totally not true.

“Charms them? What do you mean?” Emma asked, sounding suspicious.

Even blinked once and averted his gaze to Isak’s once, before looking back at Emma in amusement. A smile playing on his lips.

“You haven’t heard? He charms them all so well that many of them try seducing him right then and there. He says he refuses them but I know it’s a lie. Why would he refuse them when he just flirted with all of them, right? You can only imagine what goes on between him and all the girls over the city.” Even was full-on grinning now and Isak was blushing furiously even though none of it was true. “No wonder every girl is crazy for him.”

He then leaned in and whispered into Emma’s ear, “I heard he is also dating one of them in secret.”

What the fucking fuck.

“Shut up, that’s not-“

“-oh my god, really?” Emma interrupted Isak, her eyes wide as she looked up at Isak. She looked shocked.

“Wha- no! No, of course not-“

“Look, he is lying again.” Even said, smirking.

Emma removed her hands from Isak’s neck slowly and took a step back, making space between them. Isak felt like he could finally breathe.

“I- wow- I just uh, I am sorry my prince,” she cracked a laugh that sounded more broken than anything else. “I didn’t know you had someone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you this way-“

“-Emma, just don’t believe Even. He is an idiot. I’m not seeing anyone else.” Isak tried telling her, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“What? Oh, it’s okay, my prince. I don’t really care, but uh, I have some work, I’ll just leave I guess. Have a good time with uh, your secret lover.” Her face was comical as she excused herself from them both.

He watched her retreating back with his jaw hung open.

And Even had the audacity to speak. “You are seeing someone in secret? I’m hurt, Isak.”

“You fucking asshole.” Isak hissed at Even once Emma was gone.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t said that yet,” Even hummed, smiling.

“What’d you do that for?” Isak cried.

Even just shrugged at him. “Because you looked like you need help. Besides, that poor girl is gonna get nightmares of you every time she sees any other girl in the city. And you are mine so sorry, I can’t share you with anyone else.” He winked. He fucking winked.

“That was so fucking bad, Ev. I swear to god.” Isak groaned. “Ugh, I hate you so much right now.”

“No, you don’t. I saved you from a very clingy monster dressed like a princess.”

“Fucking hell, I am not talking to you again. I really liked her.”

Even raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? You liked her?”

“Yes. Why? Don’t you think I can’t like girls?” Isak said defensively, furrowing his brows.

Even only sighed at him. “No, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Don’t call me a baby. Then what, Even? Do you think only you are allowed to get a girlfriend but not me? That’s fucked up.” Isak spat, annoyed.

“No- fuck, I’m sorry, Isak.” Even’s eyes were wide, and he looked like he was really sorry. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Isak stared at him for a beat or two before turning away. “Whatever. Go fucking enjoy with your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

He knew he had over-reacted as he fell on top of his king-sized bed that night. He and Even weren’t sleeping together anymore and Even had gotten his own big room. He couldn’t even get the point of making them both sleep together for all these years only to separate them now.

He was regretting his words and his reaction right now and was thinking of just sneaking into Even’s room to apologize to him when he heard loud familiar voices from his right wall. It was Even and Sonja. They were sleeping together now?

But then he started hearing words and curses and he knew they were arguing. Even had invited Sonja over here as well last week and Isak hated watching her stroll around arm-in-arm with Even day and night as if she owned him. He hated it, and he hated everything that wasn’t Even these days.

Another string of arguments pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused on that now. They were clearly arguing, fighting even. He had never heard Even yell like this at anyone, but Sonja’s voice was even louder. They were having issues, and Isak had no idea about what.

A few minutes after the continuous bickering, someone slammed something hard onto the ground, and then there was this loud sound of a door shutting close. Isak knew it was over and someone had stormed out.

What was happening?

Were they breaking up..?

Isak’s heart was beating quick when the door to his room slowly opened and Even entered inside, looking worn out.

“I’m sorry, Is. Can I sleep in your room for tonight? Please.”

“You were right. I didn’t like Emma. I never liked her.”

17 and 20

“What if I can make it up to you?”

“Even, I just fucking hate you, alright? Leave me alone.” Isak said, slamming the room to his door loudly. He didn’t want to hear any more of Even’s bullshit so he went straight to his bed and fell on top of it, burrowing his face into the pillow Even always slept. He inhaled the scent and felt something stirring inside him.

A weight dropped beside him and the next second someone was cuddling him from his side. Fucking Even. Of course, he followed Isak back into his room. Even literally had no sense of privacy. Not when it came to Isak at least.

“Ugh, why are you here?” Isak groaned into his pillow.

“What if I can make up to you?” Even repeated, to his ear this time. It gave Isak chills.

“How?”

This year, Even was back only for a week or so and Isak was already anticipating him leaving tomorrow when today Even had the audacity to leave the palace and spend his more than four hours flirting with the village girls and boys.

Look, Isak wasn’t being possessive, or fuck it, he had no idea, okay? But he knew he was definitely not controlling like Sonja was. Sonja and Even had broken up and Isak really knew now what that whole argument or fight was about.

But that’s not the matter right now. He wasn’t usually possessive, but look, he hated that Even just left him like that on the last day he was going to spend here in Oslo before he would be back in Bergen. He and Even were supposed to spend their whole day together but Even had ditched him in the evening to flirt with some girls and returned back at dinner and he was going to leave tomorrow morning.

Of course, Isak was pissed and annoyed. Why couldn’t Even flirt with him instead?

Fucking Even.

“I just can,” Even replied smoothly and Isak turned to him suspiciously.

“No, you can’t. I’m really hurt right now. Nothing can mend my broken heart.” Isak said instead. “And I really, really hate you right now.”

Even rolled his eyes at him fondly before cupping Isak’s chin with his hand. Then he leaned in and slowly asked, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Isak shuddered at that. They were so close. “No, of course not, Even. You would know if I kissed someone. Stop asking all the weir-”

Even shut him up with his own lips, kissing him. Isak whimpered and let out a surprised squeak before furiously trying to kiss Even back. Holy fuck, he was definitely dreaming. He was kissing Even. And nothing had ever felt so right in the universe.

Even kissed him gently and softly, he wasn’t rushing it, like he was savouring Isak’s lips, memorizing the way it moved and the way it tasted. It felt like he was trying to please Isak and it definitely was working. Isak moaned and hummed around their lips. He couldn’t believe it. He went pliant in Even’s arms and let him kiss him again and again and again until Isak could only see and feel and touch only Even, Even, and Even.

“Did I succeed in making up to you?”

“Hell yeah,”

19 and 22

Isak was fucked. Literally. He just realized how much he was crushing on Even and how badly he wanted him that way. The way every boy wanted the girl. And he was fucked now.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Even’s naked back as he stretched and yawned in the early morning like a cat.

Isak watched his muscles flex and his spine stretch and shoulders move from where he was still pretending to be asleep with his blanket over his head.

Even looked good. He probably was one of the most handsome men Isak had ever seen all his life. Yes, Even was a man now and it made Isak swoon over him.

Just as Even got off the bed, he caught a glimpse of his collarbone, and Isak’s mouth watered as he imagined himself licking it. Gosh.

Even had returned back to Oslo again two years later and he looked so good. He had grown way taller and had gotten way more muscles. His hair was longer and swooped back on his head. It made him look so sexy and hot and Isak couldn’t breathe every time their eyes met. Someone kill him, God.

“Is it bad I want him to do every evil thing he can to me?”

He said out loud, still drooling over the new, tall and hot version of Even as he practiced his sword fighting while Magnus fed the sheep beside him in the shed. He was getting really good at it and he had even defeated and killed some of the sworn enemy’s sneaky conspirators a couple of times. This was his favorite sword and he named it ‘Illuminati,’ because it sounded cool.

He heard something clatter to the ground and turned to look at Magnus who was watching him with wide eyes. “What the fuck, bro?”

Isak nodded gravely, not even caring about the fact that he just said ‘he’ out loud instead of a ‘she’.

“Who are you even talking about?” Magnus squinted at him, looking shocked. When he looked at where Isak’s gaze was pointing to, his eyes widened.

“Fuck bro. Even?”

Isak nodded again. Even was there, riding his black horse and greeting everyone on the way with a huge beam. He looked so pretty.

“Mags, I think I like Even.” Isak couldn’t believe his own voice. How was the feeling this brave to admit that out loud? But he was also fucking tired of lying to himself. He liked Even that way and he had known it for a long time but he never let himself accept it. He couldn’t do that anymore though. He just didn’t think he could keep it in himself when Even had kissed the last time he was here. The only thing that was repeating in Isak’s head was their kiss and how good it had felt.

He had kissed many girls after that, but all of them felt wrong. He realized he didn’t like girls. He had never liked girls. It scared him, but also comforted him, made him realize why he could just never feel the same like all his other friends did.

“Seriously, bro?!” Magnus came over to him. He was almost as tall as Isak now.

“yes,” Isak nodded, licking his lips and aiming at the sack with his sharp steel sword. It cut it in two halves.

Magnus looked mind blown, as if he just discovered some great theory. “Fucking hell, bro. That is awesome. Shit, I think I always knew why you looked at Even that way.” He was beaming so huge Isak wanted to shut him up.

“What way?” He frowned instead.

“The way I watch the girls.” Magnus winked at him and Isak groaned, blushing furiously.

“Fuck off,”

“But bro. What about Even then? Have you told him about how you feel yet?” Magnus shuffled closer to him, lowering his voice so that no one could hear them.

Isak’s heart clenched at that and his jaw tightened. “No, Mags. He doesn’t like me that way.” He cast his gaze down and started fiddling with his fingers.

Magnus looked almost disappointed at that information. “What? But how do you know?”

“I just do.” Isak shrugged. If Even did like him, he would have told him.

“Bullshit bro. Have you ever seen the way Even looks at you? He looks at you like you are the most precious thing to him. Kid you not, I thought Even had a secret crush on you for several years after we became friends.” Magnus huffed. “He definitely fancies you, bro.”

Isak bit his lip, considering what Magnus had just said. Did Even really look at him that way? Did he really like Isak?

“We even kissed,” He admitted quietly.

A squeak. And Magnus was right in his face now. “Are you fucking kidding? You both kissed?” He yelled, making Isak flinch. A few of the guards watched them with a stone face and Isak slapped Magnus’s arm so he would shut up.

“Yes, we did. Two years back.” He said.

“Fucking hell. Who kissed first? Details, Isak. I need more details!” Magnus demanded and Isak let out a groan, slightly regretting telling Isak, but he started telling the story anyway. About him getting jealous whenever Even flirted with other girls or whenever he was with Sonja, about their kiss and how Isak couldn’t believe it was finally happening, about how they never talked about it again and Isak was too flustered to bring it up so he pretended that it never happened, about how even now Even would sneak into his room at night and slept along with Isak, about how Even would always call him pretty and it used to make Isak question his sexuality. He told him everything, every single thing. He poured his heart out. And when he was finally done, Magnus was full-on grinning now and Isak couldn’t believe he just poured his heart out to Magnus of all people.

“And now you can’t take your eyes off him,” Magnus concluded, looking back at Even out in the vast field.

“Now I can’t take my eyes off him.” Isak agreed.

“Fucking hell, this is like a fairy tale.” Magnus mused with a smile. Isak rolled his eyes.

“This is anything but a fairytale.”

Magnus waved him off and got up, dusting his dress and he went back to the shed. As he walked in, he shouted over back to Isak, “Looking at someone like they are their universe, kissing them, and sneaking into their bed every night doesn’t seem like something a normal friend would do, Isak. You should stop thinking so hard and tell him.” He winked before disappearing inside.

Isak stared back at him for several minutes before letting out a sigh. ‘A true king is not afraid to be himself.’ Even’s words rang in his mind after all these years.

He would have to do this then, wouldn’t he?

21 and 23

“Even, I swear to god if anyone hears and informs my parents-“

-calm down, baby. Just enjoy.”

“They are the fucking king and quee- ahh“

Even dived back in and Isak moaned so loud he panicked he alerted the guards outside. But luckily, none of them barged in. Even didn’t stop, he kept going up and down, up and down and soon Isak was panting.

When they both were coming down from their high finally, sweaty bodies on top of each other, Isak let out a giggle.

“Fucking hell,”

Even smiled down at him, then rolled back to his side. “I can’t believe I fucked the prince in his own room. I should get paid for this.”

Isak shoved him with a laugh before Even pulled him into himself and he rested his head on his shoulder.

“Did you know I begged my mum to let me sleep with you when we were younger because I liked you a lot and wanted to watch you sleep because you looked so adorable?” Even said, suddenly.

Isak widened his eyes at that. “What the fuck, really?” Even nodded back at him and Isak couldn’t believe it.

“Wow..”

“Yeah, I used to pretend that I was scared of sleeping alone here in your castle and somehow my mum believed it and your mum agreed to let us sleep together.” He laughed. Bright and loud.

And Isak laughed along with him too. Even rubbed his hand up and down his back and they calmed their giggles down after a while. They were together exactly for a year but only got to touch each other for two weeks and a half or so. Because they both got together the year before and Even had left again a week later and only came back here now one and a half week ago. So they were trying their best to spend as much time together as they could without making it more suspicious.

It was going fine, but they knew something had to happen first. They had to come out. They couldn’t keep living in secret like this forever. Isak didn’t want it and neither did Even. Isak was ready to die if he wanted, but he wasn’t going to let their love be imprisoned this way.

“What if we get caught one day?” Even said quietly, drawing circles on Isak's back.

“Then we explain to them. Tell them we are together,”

“And what if they don’t accept us?”

Isak shuffled closer to him. “We will flip them off and elope togteher.”

“Oh yeah?” There was a smile in Even’s voice.

“Yeah,”

“To where?”

“To a place where we are safe.”

“Okay. What if they torture Magnus over here because he supported us all this time.”

Isak scowled. “Then we take him along with us. Find him a girl. Marry them both.”

Even let out a small laugh. “That sounds really nice.”

“It does.”

“I’m so glad you asked me out that day, baby.” Isak lifted his face up and smiled down at Even.

“I am glad too. Or I wouldn’t be here with you right now, naked and kissing you.”

Even grinned up at him in the darkness. “And you wouldn’t have known how good I was at fucking you.”

“oh my god, you are so dirty.” Isak groaned, palming his face. They both laughed for another few minutes before Even resorted back to stroking his back softly.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted this. Us. You.” He said quietly, and Isak shook his head at him lightly.

“Trust me, I do. Because I wanted this too.”

Even stared into his eyes at that, a fond look on his face, and Isak did the same before they kissed each other again for a while. Isak slumped back into Even’s chest contently after that and they pulled the blanket tighter around themselves. It was a miracle no one ever came to check upon them.

“We really owe Magnus a lot, don’t we?”

24 and 26

They were in Bali. In fucking Bali, during the fuming hot, summer.

Isak couldn’t believe it. It had taken so long for them to arrive here. They had to spend so much time on various huge ships and here they were finally.

Relaxing on one of the finest beaches, shirtless and with lemonades resting on either side of them. Isak had his country to rule, his own palace, his personal advisor Magnus and most important of all, his lover, Prince Even. So yes, life was going great. Except for one small thing. But he wasn’t going to bring that topic up now.

Let’s talk about something else. First things first, Isak is a king now. Yes, he is a king but not Even. Because Isak’s father passed away two years back in the battle and now he was crowned the king of the Norsk. Even’s parents were safe and sound, thank you.

The year Isak became a king, he knew he had the power to come out as a homosexual and claim Even as his lover, openly and freely, and people wouldn’t object. Wouldn’t dare to. His own mum had accepted them both so of course, none of the people really cared very much. As for Even, it’s his story to tell, but in the end, he was accepted by his parents too.

And now, here they were, in Bali. Having a vacation after a successful battle the previous year. Even was Isak’s boyfriend and Isak was Even’s. It was good. Life was good.

Except for that one small thing that was bothering Isak for the past two months.

“I love it here so much, Isak, God.” Even whined from his side, interrupting Isak’s thoughts. He stretched and Isak stared at his beautiful, long body. His lover’s body.

His heart bloomed every time he referred to Even as a ‘lover’.

“What if we just stayed here for the rest of our lives?” Even asked, looking at Isak with a smile. He looked gorgeous in the sun. He had tanned a little in the past few days.

“Then we will.”

Even grinned wider and turned to his front before slowly making his way over to Isak with his elbows and finally stopping by his chest.

“No, because I want to see more of the world. I want to see the world with you.”

Isak stroked through his blonde hair and kissed him. “I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Even melted in front of him and his smile turned much softer. “I love you,” he mumbled, kissing Isak’s nose and then hovering above his lips.

“I love you too,” Isak murmured back, and Even was kissing him the next moment.

They made out for a while in the sun, rolling on the beach sand like two horny starfishes until they both had to come up for air.

Even was watching him and he was feeling good. They both were feeling good and Isak thought this might be the right time to tell his lover.

“Um, baby,” He started, watching Even’s face trying to see all his reaction as he sat up straighter. “As much as I love hearing people call you my ‘lover’,” he emphasized on the last part and saw Even frowning slightly at right now. “I wonder how it would be if they called you my ‘husband.’”

He wished he could just freeze the exact moment when Even’s eyes widened and he looked so surprised it made Isak’s heart well inside his chest. But he was also very, very nervous right now.

Even wasn’t speaking anything, but his face was filled with emotions. He was red and flustered and shocked and bemused and looked surprised overall. As if he wasn’t expecting this.

But then, his upper lip quirked up and there was a hint of a smile. A smile that contained just too many emotions. And that was enough for Isak to go ahead.

He faced Even and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He opened it and held it shakily to Even.

“What if I asked you to marry me right now?”

A beat.

“I would say yes.”

#evak drabble #skam #evak #This is almost 9k fgsdkhfdk #my drabbles

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quickspinner · 5 years ago

Text

Stuck On You (I’ll Never Not Know You)

This one was a suggestion in the comments on AO3 from Fern:

Soulmate’s AU where one can hear in their heads the song the other one is thinking about? Imagine Marinette’s headache when Luka gets stuck on a creative loop (and she doesn’t even recognize the song but it’s good damn it)

Marinette smiled to herself as the music in her head began again. It often started this time of day. It must be a boring time for her soulmate too, she thought as she doodled flowers in the margin of her notebook. At least he could get away with playing music. Maybe he had study hall or something and he could wear headphones.

She, unfortunately, had history, and while it could be interesting sometimes, it often wasn’t. Her notebook was as full of tiny sketches in the margin as it was notes. Really, she was grateful for the soundtrack her soulmate provided, since she wasn’t allowed to listen to music in class.

Marinette sighed wistfully. Of course, everybody hated the waiting. Well. Almost everybody. Aside from some chronically optimistic people who insisted that the anticipation was part of the “fun” and heightened the experience of meeting their soulmate at last (never mind that the people in question met their soulmates criminally early). Marinette knew that the waiting was something that everybody had to endure, so she tried not to think about it too hard, even as her curious mind went over the few things she knew about her soulmate. Which...wasn’t much, unfortunately.

His taste was eclectic. He preferred rock music but he listened to a little bit of everything. He really liked guitar music, that much was obvious. Sometimes the songs in his head that echoed through hers were nothing but guitar, electric or acoustic. She wondered if he played, and thus remembered the guitar parts of the songs he knew better than the rest of it. Unfortunately, she seemed to have a hard time recognizing the melodies without the other instruments, so it was a little frustrating. He probably didn’t know it, but he was the one who had first introduced her to Jagged Stone’s music, years ago, and Marinette was now a huge fan. She’d love to check out some of the other things he liked, but her attempts to find any of it were rarely successful.

Someday, when they met, Marinette hoped he would share all of it with her, because even with just the guitar part, she really liked what she heard most days.

She doodled another flower in her notebook and sighed again.

***

It had been four days of that awful XY song and Luka was about ready to lose his mind. He’d thought his soulmate, whoever she was, had pretty good taste in music until now, but...ugh. Luka tried not to judge, he liked a lot of things himself and he’d never want to be considered a music snob, but...XY? Really? The man’s music had no heart. It was bad enough hearing his latest single constantly on the radio, but to have it haunting Luka’s mind all the time was torture.

Luka put his head down on his desk and groaned. Enough was enough. He thought for a minute, and then focused on one of his soulmate’s favorite (he assumed, based on how often she was thinking about it) Jagged Stone songs, and began playing it mentally at full volume, fingers tapping absently to the rhythm as he tried to overwhelm that awful song. Hopefully whoever it was would forgive him for this but he just couldn’t listen any longer.

The XY song warped and twisted in a way that made him wince, but Luka was nothing if not focused. He visualized turning up the volume knob on his mental stereo, his left hand beginning to mimic the fingering for the guitar piece even as his right continued to drum. Eventually the warped tune began to follow his beat, and slowly the melody shifted as well, and there was almost an audible snap when they were back in sync again, the familiar Jagged Stone song playing without resistance.

Luka’s shoulders slumped in relief and he sighed, just listening to the song.

Then he gasped as he felt a sudden rush of relief and gratitude that definitely did not come from him. Luka sat frozen, his head still on the desk. Then a smile gradually grew on his face. “Ear worm, huh?” he murmured. “I knew you had better taste.” He closed his eyes and concentrated on the song again, falling into the flow of it. Then he tried to send his feelings back to her.

He didn’t know if it worked. He hadn’t even known it was possible to sense anything besides the music. Luka wondered if it was just him; he had a rather unique and intense relationship to music and the emotions it carried. Maybe that, plus being so intensely focused on the bond at that moment, was what allowed those feelings to come through.

It didn’t matter; that awful song was gone, and now that he knew his soulmate didn’t like it either, he’d be quicker to intervene if it came back.

***

“It’s gone!” Marinette cried, elated.

Alya looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“That stupid song Chloé kept playing!” Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm. “It’s been in my head for days and I couldn’t get rid of it. My poor soulmate must have gotten as sick of it as I was and somehow he made it go away!”

“Does that mean you’re finally going to stop humming it? Because if so then I owe that boy a coffee when you finally meet,” Alya said dryly. “And Nino might actually put him up for sainthood.”

Marinette just sat back in her chair and sighed, relieved and happy and very grateful.

She stiffened as she felt a wave of amusement and affection wash over her. It was a little overwhelming but also calm, steady. Comforting. Marinette sighed wistfully. She hoped it was a sign they would meet soon.

***

Luka growled and set down his guitar. He’d been so inspired once he’d helped his soulmate finally get rid of that awful song, but now he was stuck. Nothing felt right. He went up on deck and leaned against the rail, folding his arms and dropping his chin onto them. The cool breeze raised goosebumps on his bare arms and he realized he’d left his hoodie downstairs. He dropped his head on his arms and groaned.

He stayed at the rail out of sheer stubbornness a little longer, playing the melody over and over in his mind and trying to figure out where he was going wrong. Maybe if he...no, that didn’t work. He turned the pick still in his fingers absently as he considered the possibilities, but nothing spoke to him.

Luka groaned and chucked his guitar pick into the river in frustration. Or rather, he tried, the wind blew it right back onto the deck and he rolled his eyes. “Well that about sums it up my day,” Luka observed wryly, leaning down to pick it up and shove it back in his pocket.

He went back down and sat back on his bed, picking up his guitar.

“If you play that damn song again,” Juleka warned without looking up from her homework, “I’ll snap the neck off your guitar and stab you with it.”

Luka threw himself back on his bed and pouted.

***

Marinette was starting to wonder if something was wrong with her soulmate. He’d had the same song stuck in his head for a long time now. It was a nice song, she liked it, but...it always stopped around the same place, and it never felt finished. It was a consistent melody up to a point, and then it would vary before it either stuttered to a halt or...shattered, she supposed was the best word.

Marinette wondered if maybe her soulmate had heard the song in passing, but either hadn’t heard all of it, or hadn’t remembered how it ended. Unfortunately she didn’t know it either, so she couldn’t finish it for him. It must be frustrating for him since he kept dwelling on it.

Frowning, Marinette settled herself more solidly in her chair. Maybe she could help him the way he helped her. She paused to think of a song, and then concentrated, trying to play it over the song she was hearing.

It was harder than she expected; her mind wanted to follow the tune in her head and even finding the right melody for the song she wanted was hard. She didn’t make it very far before she lost it completely.

To her surprise, despite her failure, the song shifted immediately. When he’d done this for her it had taken some time and effort to replace the old song with the new one, the two competing at first before his overwhelmed hers, but when she tried, the old song yielded easily, even though she hadn’t managed to hold the right melody in her mind. Just like before, she felt a wave of feeling. This time, though, it was more like...remorse. An apology?

Oh, no, she hadn’t meant him to think that. She just wanted to help, but if this was something he wanted to be thinking about, she hadn’t meant to stop him.

She wasn’t conscious of doing anything, but she must have, because the next thing she felt was gratitude and forgiveness, tinged with amusement. The song gently shifted back to the first tune.

More perplexed than ever, Marinette just shrugged and sighed and went back to her sewing, grumbling at yet another mystery that wouldn’t be solved until someday finally got here.

***

“Ugh, I’m so not ready for this test,” Alya moaned, slumping onto the library table. Mylène patted her back sympathetically.

“That’s why we decided to meet up,” she reminded Alya. “At least we can all get slightly less unprepared together.”

“Actually...” Marinette pulled out her notebook. “Look, I’ve divided up the material. If we each take a section to review, we can cover everything on the test and then make copies of everything so we all have the notes to study from!”

Rose squealed. “That’s brilliant Marinette!”

Marinette grinned, shoulders hunching slightly as the other girls joined in the praise. “Okay, great, if you all agree, then who wants to take which section? She put her color-coded outline on the table and the girls leaned over it. It only took a few minutes to get the assignments settled, and then they all got to work.

Marinette was so focused on what she was doing that she jumped when Juleka spoke suddenly.

“Where did you hear that?” Juleka asked sharply.

Four heads lifted and stared at the normally quiet girl, whose eyes were fixed on Marinette. Marinette blinked as three heads swiveled to move their gaze from Juleka to her. “Sorry?” she said.

“That tune you were humming, where did you hear it?”

“Oh, was I humming?” Marinette straightened in surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Never mind that,” Juleka nearly snapped. “Where did you hear it?”

Marinette tilted her head. “I didn’t, actually.” She tapped her temple with her pencil. “My soulmate’s had it in his head for a while now and I guess he’s thinking about it again now. I didn’t even realize I was humming along. Do you recognize it? It keeps cutting off, and I’d love to be able to hear the end. Maybe if I could hear the end and—uh...think it for him? Maybe he’d finally get it out of his head. It must be driving him crazy.”

“It is,” Juleka mumbled, and everyone’s heads whipped back around so they could all stare at her again. “You need to come home with me when we’re finished here.”

“Oh...kay,” Marinette agreed, exchanging a look with Alya, and then with Rose, who just shrugged. Apparently she didn’t know what Juleka was talking about either. Juleka just went back to her work without any further explanation. After a moment, Marinette sighed and did the same.

***

Luka was in a mood again, sitting in a deck chair and still trying to work on this song. He’d actually thought he’d made a breakthrough a few days ago, and he did make some progress, but only a little. He was starting to wonder if maybe he should just give it up, but the song just wouldn’t leave him alone.

It was weird. He didn’t usually have this much trouble when composing. If something didn’t work, he let it go and worked on something else. He wasn’t sure why he was so set on figuring this one out. It was like...like he’d heard it somewhere, in a dream or something, so he knew somewhere deep down what it was supposed to sound like, but he just couldn’t find the notes to make it work.

He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, trying to just feel the sun on his face and the wind in his hair and the rock of the ship, but he wasn’t having much luck.

After a moment his lips quirked in a wry grin. Apparently his soulmate had his song on the brain now too, because he was still hearing it even as he tried not to think about it.

“Hey dumbass.”

“Juleka,” he sighed, not opening his eyes. “What’s up?”

“That new song you’ve been writing. Play it.”

“It’s not finished,” he grumbled. “I’m still stuck.”

“Don’t care. Play it now.”

Luka sighed, shifting the guitar in his hands. “Fine,” he muttered. Apparently the whole damn world was against him at this point, he might as well give in and play the stupid song one more time. He sat up and got comfortable and played that damn, frustrating, unfinishable song.

As the song trailed off at the same place that it always did, he heard a gasp behind him that definitely wasn’t Juleka. He craned his neck back over the chair, frowning. There was a girl standing next to Juleka with her hands over her mouth. “Oh, sorry,” he said, standing up and sliding his guitar to his back. “I didn’t realize we had company, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

He offered his hand to the girl, expecting Juleka to introduce him. When she didn’t, he added, “I’m Luka, I’m Juleka’s brother. Welcome to the Liberty.”

She still stared at him, without moving. “You...write music?” she asked, and Luka pulled his hand back and ran it through his hair awkwardly.

“I try,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Not having much luck with this one, honestly.”

“That’s why I never recognized your music,” she breathed. “You were writing it yourself. I’m such an idiot, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, of course you’re a musician…”

Now Luka was the one staring, or rather they were staring at each other. He was barely aware of Juleka turning and walking away without a word. The new girl’s words jumbled up in his mind and he couldn’t quite make them make sense—or rather, he was so afraid of being wrong that he didn’t want to admit what they meant.

But the longer he stood and stared into her eyes, the more certain he was, and he suddenly realized where this frustrating, insistent song had come from.

“Oh,” he said softly. “It’s you.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I guess...it’s me. Um, I’m Marinette. By the way. That’s my, you know...name.” She held her hand out awkwardly.

Luka took her hand, stepping nearer, but forgot to shake it as he gazed at her, his smile slowly growing. Marinette began to blush.

“What?” Marinette asked finally, hunching her shoulders slightly.

“I got it,” he said quietly, still smiling as he looked at her. “I know what I was missing now.”

Marinette blinked in confusion. Luka took another step toward her, and Marinette jolted slightly as he let go of her hand and brought both of his up to curl them behind her neck, resting his forehead against hers. Marinette closed her eyes automatically, and it was only a moment before she heard that familiar beautiful but frustrating song...only this time, it didn’t cut off.

She smiled delightedly, eyes still closed. “You finished it.”

He gave an affirmative hum. “I finally found what I was looking for.”

“It’s beautiful,” she sighed, bringing her hands up to rest on his wrists.

“It’s you,” he breathed, pulling back slightly and opening his eyes to look into hers, hands sliding up to frame her face, caressing her cheeks lightly with his thumbs. “You’re right. It is beautiful.”

For a long moment they just looked at each other, and then Luka’s eyes flicked down to her lips. He started to lean in, and then hesitated, glancing back up at her. Then he closed the distance and kissed her softly. Marinette closed her eyes, and as he pulled back suddenly there was a new song in her head, and it both made her blush and made her burst out laughing.

“Are you ever not thinking about music?” Marinette giggled, and had the satisfaction of seeing Luka blush. “Really, at a time like this?”

Luka shrugged, dropping his hands from her face to wrap them around hers. “What can I say? You’re inspiring.” He smiled at her.

“Are you idiots done yet?” Juleka yelled from somewhere out of sight. “Because you’re totally buying me dinner.”

Marinette giggled, and Luka hung his head with a sigh. “At least you already know her so I don’t have to figure out a way to explain her,” he chuckled. “Well, can I take you and apparently my annoying sister out to dinner tonight, Marinette?”

Marinette smiled. “I think that sounds like a good start.”

“A start,” Luka’s smile grew into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t you dare,” Marinette warned, laughter bubbling up as another melody began to form in her mind.

“Get used to it,” Luka chuckled. “I think it’s going to be happening a lot from now on.”

#quickspins #i'll never not know you #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #meet-cute #alternate meeting

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aquinoa · 4 years ago

Text

My Muse | ft. Tsukishima Kei

-`,dedicated to @hinaaspanda for her belated birthday! ⹁՛-

muse

/myo͞oz/; noun

(in Greek and Roman mythology) each of nine goddesses, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the arts and sciences.

a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.

something Tsukishima thought he’d never find, until you came along.

pairing: Art Student!Tsukishima x Art Student!Reader (female)

genre: Art School!AU, fluff, angst if you squint

word count: 6345

warning: swearing, drinking, like one instance of hinting at the devil’s tango

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for your class' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school.

"Could you explain your reasoning for that type of brushstroke?"

"The message is intriguing, but I'm not so sure about the techniques you used for the foreground portray what you intended."

"The colour scheme seems random." It's been over a month into the semester, but you could never get used to being in the hot seat and facing the criticisms of your peers.

"It looks like a lame Cy Twombly imitation to me. Did you do this in, what— five minutes?" This comment from a certain classmate particularly bothered you. You turned to glare at the culprit.

"Kei Tsukishima! Constructive criticism only, please." The art professor gasped. "How about you go next for your critique?" Tsukishima sighed and shifted his easel, revealing to the class his assignment.

As always, his canvas contained a masterpiece. His technical skills were insanely advanced and the whole class knew it; they could not keep quiet it about it during his crit. His own explanation for it, however, was lacklustre. Most of his responses to comments were the likes of "I don't know," or "I just felt like it." To you, that might've been what aggravated you about Tsukishima the most—he was so gifted, but he treated his pieces as if they were mere doodles. If only you had even a percentage of his technical skills.

You ruminated in your thoughts, as other students continued with their critiques until class ended. In the midst of the class packing up and leaving the studio, your eyes glanced over to Tsukishima a couple of seats down. His eyes eventually meet yours as he passed by, noticing how irritated you still were.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"I'll have you know that painting took a long time to make." You began. "What you said during my crit stung a bit."

"It's called a critique, pipsqueak. What else do you want?" He rolled his eyes, turning his back to you and headed toward the exit.

"I'm not a pipsqueak!" You shrilled, jolting up from your seat. You took a deep breath. "At least be more considerate in my critique. Like—give me a specific thing to improve on?" The boy paused just before the doorway, his back still to you.

"Y/N, was it?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Work on your hatching or something. Gives it more depth." He muttered before walking out. You glanced back at your piece for a second before tucking it away in your case and exiting the studio.

—&

Your body shivered from the evening breeze as you walked back to your apartment. As you rummaged for your keys in front of your door, a cheery voice greeted you from the next door down.

"Oi, Y/N!"

"Yamaguchi!" You beamed. Yamaguchi, your neighbour, was always a ray of sunshine. "How's your essay coming along?"

"Actually, I just submitted it earlier today! So, fingers crossed for that coveted C+!" The boy chuckled before he glanced at your discouraged look and raised a brow. "What happened to you? Rough day?" You nodded, letting out a sigh.

"We had group crits today in studio class. I was able to respond to the comments, but it was obvious what they thought about my work: my technique isn't good enough. God, there was this one particular guy in my class who was just so— so insensitive about it!"

"H-hey, don't mind the haters!" Yamaguchi butted in to calm you down. "He's probably just jealous of you." You raised a brow.

"Jealous of what? It just felt like he was punching down." You looked down, letting out a sigh. "I put a lot of thought into this piece and I thought it would show."

"You're talking about that piece you worked on last week right?" You nodded, Yamaguchi's mouth gaping open. "Wait— that one is so good! I've seen art galleries where they feature a white canvas with a singular black line painted! If those can end up in galleries, you're absolutely fine!" You chuckled, before he continued. "The message behind the art piece is just as important as the piece itself, if not more. And Y/N, you put a lot of thought to the message behind each of your pieces, which is awesome! Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Thanks, Yamaguchi." You grinned. "I honestly am beyond lucky to have ended up with you as a neighbour."

"Hey, I feel like I'm the lucky one having such a talented artist as a neighbour!" The boy grinned back before bidding you goodbye. You waved back and stepped inside your apartment.

—&

"Alright, folks. Now that we're a couple of months into the semester, it's about time to talk about your final term project." The studio professor began explaining the logistics and requirements of the final project. It was essentially another painting but with higher stakes. "Keep in mind: while the technique is absolutely important, your projects also need depth and meaning. Otherwise, you are going to have quite a rough critique. Let me tell you, the other professors can be ruthless!" The professor chuckled. "Now, on with the class." You groaned. The only thing worse than being criticized on the spot by your class was getting criticized on the spot by a group of professors—actual artists. If you were gonna ace the final project, you were gonna have to grind hard.

In the middle of the period, you placed your brush on your easel to take a quick break. You took a deep breath and rolled back your shoulders before letting your eyes wandered around the class—from the wide window pane wall on your left as it welcomed the sunlight throughout the studio, to your classmates on your right as they either quietly worked on their next pieces or chatted amongst each other. Your eyes eventually fall on Tsukishima, a couple of seats from you, as he's quietly slouched over his canvas with a Filbert brush in hand.

"He's probably just jealous of you." These particular words from Yamaguchi left you baffled even after a few days since that interaction. Why would Tsukishima—that gifted asshole—be jealous of you? What could you have for him to be jealous of? Compared to his skills? If anything, you should feel jealous of h—

That was not a thought you wanted to finish. You must've stared at Tsukishima for too long, since his attention has suddenly shifted to you, with a puzzled look.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I—" You stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. "I...was just wondering if you could...share more brush technique tips...?" You grinned feigningly. The boy glanced over at your canvas then back at you.

"Figures. Looks like you really need it." He snickered, causing you to scoff.

"God, you are hard to talk to."

"Oi, I didn't say no." He rebutted. "I can't be bothered by explaining it to you, though. Since you're already slacking off anyway, just watch me." He adjusted his glasses before focusing back on his own canvas. You rolled your eyes at the ego of this guy, but was puzzled at his odd offer. You kept your eyes on his brush and took mental notes as he continued painting. You were fascinated by the advanced brush techniques he applied as if it was child's play. After watching his brush for a while, your eyes eventually wandered over to his hand. Then to his broad shoulders. Then to the pale nape of his neck. Then to his short, ruffled, blonde hair. Then to the golden-brown eyes behind his glasses, a little sorry that they a lack a glint to them.

"Tsukishima! Do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" The professor asked as she walked up to his easel. It was more than enough to snap you out of your gaze. You darted your head back to your own easel and continued to work away at your canvas, with your flustered confusion blocking out Tsukishima's conversation with the professor. Why did he leave you in such a daze just now?

When the clock signaled the end of class, the class began to pack up. As you put your paint away, you glanced over at Tsukishima once more as he quickly packed up his supplies. This time, he looked more annoyed than usual.

"Oi, Tsukishima." You called to him. "What did the professor talk to you about?"

"None of your business." He retorted without batting an eye as he grabbed his bag and walked out of the studio without another word. Quite rude, but he seemed in a bad mood, so you disregarded it. You grabbed your things and left the studio to continue with the rest of your day.

—&

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You jolted awake from the knock on your door. You reached for your phone to check the time—it was noon. It was only mere hours ago when you finished pulling an all-nighter to work on an assignment because your inspiration apparently likes to strike at 3am. The knocking continued. You groaned as you sat up and grudgingly made your way over to the front door. You opened the door and peeked out to find a tall, familiar figure standing off to your left.

"Tsukishima?!" For the last few classes, your interactions with Tsukishima have been scarce. He'd somehow manage to insert an insult whenever you'd ask him a question. There were also moments in class where you swore you felt a glance coming from his direction, but when you turned your head to him, he was occupied with his canvas. Seeing him now at your doorstep was a surreal experience.

"Y/N?" He looked at you quizzically. "You live here? Whatever. What do you want?"

"What do you mean "What do you want?"," You mocked sluggishly. "You knocked on my door— what do you want?"

"Wait, you thought I knocked on your door? Dumbass." He snickered. You rolled your eyes and hit his arm.

"I'm too tired for this, Kei." You retorted, leaning against the door frame. "Who are you here to see, then?"

"I'm here to see a friend." He pointed over to Yamaguchi's door and—as if on cue—his door opened and a frantic Yamaguchi stepped out.

"S-sorry, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi shrilled. "My readings took longer than I expected!" He caught sight of you and waved. "Oh! Hi Y/N! I see you've met Tsukki…shima." He chuckled softly.

"Hey Yamaguchi!" You waved back. "Wait, you call him Tsu—that's so cute! I wanna call him that too!" Tsukishima furiously shook his head.

"No way I'm letting anyone else call me Tsukki. I only make an exception for Yamaguchi." He sighed, turning to Yamaguchi. "She's in my studio art class."

"Unfortunately." You muttered under your breath.

"Oi, I heard that." Tsukishima glared.

"Hey Yamaguchi, how do you know Tsukki?" You asked, teasingly emphasizing the latter name. Yamaguchi chuckled.

"Oh, I've been friends with Tsukki since we were young!"

"That's insane. You're way too nice to be hanging around Tsukki."

"Y/N, I will tell Yamaguchi you thought I was knocking on your door, if you don't stop calling me Tsukki." Tsukishima threatened.

"You just did though." You furrowed your brows.

"Wait Y/N, did you just wake up?" Yamaguchi asked.

"Yeah, Tsukki woke me up." You pouted.

"Serves you right, pipsqueak." Tsukishima scoffed.

"Oi, I'm no pipsqueak! It's not my fault you tower over everyone, you bean pole."

"I'd rather be a bean pole—if it means not being caught in public with those on." He pointed down at your panda slippers. You gasped theatrically.

"How dare you insult my precious pandas?"

"Alright, you two!" Yamaguchi finally chimed in. "I get it. You two fight like a married couple. Horribly, I might add." He chuckled, causing both you and Tsukishima to scoff. "Anyways Tsukki, let's get going and let Y/N get some rest." Yamaguchi bid you goodbye, while Tsukishima gave you one last glance before he turned around and followed the other. "Seriously, Tsukki. Just use the doorbell next time!" You chuckled, hearing your neighbour lecture the bean pole as they walked away.

When you stepped back into your apartment, you rubbed the nape of your neck. You've almost forgotten why you've antagonized Tsukishima so much. Aside from the rocky start and the constant teasing, he's never been inherently bad to you. It's almost as if he's nice to you in his own, subtle way.

Nah. It must've been the sleep deprivation talking. You let out another yawn and went back to get some more shut-eye.

—&

The deadline for the studio class' term project was approaching. For the past couple of weeks, you've often found yourself spending late evenings painting away alone in the studio after class. The warm, quiet atmosphere of the studio with golden rays shining through the window pane as the sun set was where you've lately felt the most motivated. One particular evening in the studio, you were stuck on how to execute a certain portion of your painting's foreground. If you were going to impress the professors during your term project critique, you had to go above and beyond with your technique, considering your track record of your mediocre group critiques. You leaned your head back along with a sigh. You tapped the handle of your paintbrush on your temple, wishing for an idea.

"Y/N?" Startled, you turned to the familiar, baritone voice stood by the studio doorway.

"Tsukishima? H-how long have you been there?"

"Relax, I'm just here to pick up some paint that I forgot." You sighed and turned back to your canvas. He walked over to the supply shelves behind you to grab a few tubes of paint, placing them in his bag, before turning to you. After a while, you couldn't help but feel irked by the boy looking over your shoulder from behind.

"So—" You decided to break the silence. "It's still a work in progress, but what do you think of it?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" He snickered, causing you to groan. At this point, you've grown desensitized of his teasing.

"I'm serious. I want to do well for the term project. I'm just stuck on how to paint this part of the foreground." You motioned to the portion of the canvas before the boy stepped closer to take another look at your painting.

"Give me your brush." You reached out your brush to him without batting an eye, expecting him to take it. To your surprise, you instead felt his hand firmly gripping onto yours.

"Ts-Tsukishima?" You froze, bewitched by his sudden touch. His hand guided you and the brush throughout the canvas, using colour combinations and brush strokes foreign to you, but seemingly simple to him. Your eyes couldn't help but focus on his hand that was clung onto yours. You held your breath. At that moment, it felt like time stood still. When he finished, he gently released your hand. The warmth of his touch lingered on your hand—and on your mind—for a bit longer. He briefly explained the techniques he applied, when he noticed your still flustered reaction.

"Huh— oi, don't get the wrong idea. It was the only way I could've done it without you getting in trouble for cheating or something." He rebutted, seemingly unfazed by his actions. "Besides, you probably wouldn't have been able to do it if I just explained it to you."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes, any flustered feelings you felt faded away. You looked back at the portion of your canvas just painted. As usual, Tsukishima's methods were impressive and helpful. "Thanks." You uttered under your breath, before continuing to work. He nodded before looking out the window.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't you head home?" He asked as he picked up his bag, about to leave.

"It’s fine," You shook your head, keeping your eyes on your canvas. "I've gone home later than this in the past. I have to work on this." The boy sighed and paused before reaching for your portfolio case.

"I didn't know you were this stubborn too." He dangled your portfolio case and made his way out the studio. "It's time to call it a day if you want this back." You turned to him as he slung your portfolio case over his shoulder with a sly smirk before stepping out the studio. You groaned.

"Oi! Come back here!" You shoved your supplies into your bag, slipped off your apron and grabbed your canvas before rushing out the studio to catch up to him as he kept his leisurely pace. Panting, you caught up to him and snatched your portfolio case back. "What the hell, Tsukishima?" He snickered.

"I'm heading over to Yamaguchi's place anyway, so I wasn't actually going to run away with it."

"You better not have. Wait— why are you headed to Yamaguchi's so late?"

"I'm staying over. My brother's bringing his girlfriend over to our house tonight, so you already know what's bound to happen." He shuddered. "Frankly, I don't want to hear any of that shit." You chuckled.

—&

A serene silence fell upon the two. Before you knew it, you found yourself walking back to the apartment complex together. As you walked, you leaned your head back and took a breath of the evening breeze. You turned your head to Tsukishima, who's engrossed himself in his music, a bit of which you could almost hear from his headphones. You felt your cheeks warm up. Walking beside him right now made you reminisce of the countless romantic scenes you've read where the boy walks the girl home. You shook your head. No, this wasn't one of those tales.

"Why are you looking at me this time?" Tsukishima raised a brow at you, slinging his headphones around his neck. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"Oh—" You scratched your head. "I swear it's just a coincidence. Maybe you're just looking at me all the time." He rolled his eyes before another silence fell upon the two. A thought suddenly crossed your mind. "I was just wondering, remember when you stormed off after the professor talked to you?"

"Hm."

"What happened? Did she say something bad?" The boy suddenly grimaced. Your curiosity grew, but regretted asking him. He let out a sigh.

"She's concerned about how I'll do in the final term project. That my track record of 'shallow responses' during my crits indicate the kind of work I'll bring to the final critique. And that I didn't feel 'inspired' enough." He shrugged. "As long as I paint something impressive to my audience, I should do fine."

It dawned on you that he has the exact opposite dilemma as you. While you lacked the technique, yet strived in the depth of your pieces, he had insanely advanced skills, but struggled to find drive.

"Don't you want to do more than 'fine', though?" You began. "I mean—isn't that the point of art? To express that of which your muse—let's say—has inspired you?"

"My muse?" Tsukishima raised a brow.

"Yeah, your muse! Something—or someone—that is a source of inspiration for you." He paused, gazing at you before he tsked.

"Odd."

"What do you mean 'odd'?" You furrowed you brows, mocking his tone. "You must have a muse. Something you like that makes you go 'I want to paint something based on that'?" He shook his head. "I don't buy it. Tell me, Kei. You like music, right? Doesn't it make you feel things and envision things when you listen to it?"

"I guess, but it doesn't make me want to paint it."

"Scratch that, then. How about, I'll give you an example of a muse of mine:" You pointed upward. "that."

"Huh—" He looked up as well. "The sky?" You nodded.

"I love the sky. It gives you something different everyday. From the glint of the stars out tonight, the funny shapes you make out from clouds, to the gorgeous colours that sunsets reveal—which is a personal favourite." You sighed in glee.

"Anyone can paint a sunset, though." He rebutted. "I just don't see how the sky would impress the professors. Wouldn't it make you a more worthwhile artist to show off the most challenging techniques you can pull off to succeed?" You gritted your teeth.

"It's not about what you paint—it's why you're painting it!" Your plead echoed around both of you. This took Tsukishima aback. You lowered your head, your heart sinking. It was as if every small, condescending remark he's said has piled up and overwhelmed you. "Not everyone is as gifted as you, Tsukishima." You whimpered softly. "I've always admired your talent." Silence fell once more.

"Y/N, I—"

"You know I have been practicing the things you've taught me. I know I'm not the best at them, but at least I'm improving. At least I'm trying." There was a shakiness growing in your voice. "I don't know if I'm upset at you or at myself, but—" As you two approached the apartment complex, you turned to the boy one last time with a pained look in your eyes. "but can't you be even the tiniest bit considerate of me?" You turned your back to him and marched back into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

Tsukishima lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and cursed under his breath as Yamaguchi let him inside as well.

—&

For the next couple of weeks, you and Tsukishima ceased talking to each other, not even looking at each other's way. It perplexed you why you've been as affected by him as you were that night. Maybe it was your confusion from how he constantly teetered between belittling you and helping you. Maybe it was your disappointment that you've invested yourself to him but he never reciprocated in the end, but never again. You've convinced yourself that he was nothing more but a mere classmate from studio class—always has been and always will be.

The end of the term was nearly approaching and the stress continued to pile up. You've been dedicating much more time into perfecting your art pieces for the final project. One particular weekend, cooped up in your apartment while trying to finish up your painting, you hit upon some good ol' artist block. You scratched your head as you tried to find inspiration. You peeked out your window. Nothing but gray clouds today. You turned back to your canvas, frustrated at how you feel you're so close to finishing, yet so far. Eyeing the details, you noticed the particular spot that Tsukishima added that evening in the studio. Your flustered feelings began to creep back into your mind.

Nope.

You ruffled your hair furiously before wailing out a long, exasperated scream for what felt like forever. Once you calmed down, you leaned back onto your seat. Oddly enough, screaming helped you clear your thoughts and frustrations. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

The silence was broken by a sudden, frantic knocking on your door. You walked over and opened the door to find a concerned Yamaguchi.

"Y/N! I heard screaming. A-are you okay?" He asked frantically.

"Yamaguchi! I'm fine, sorry about that." You laughed nervously as you rubbed the nape of your neck. "I was just blowing off steam from the stress of school, I guess." Your neighbour sighed in relief.

"Man, Y/N. You scared me!" He complained. "It's getting that tense, huh?" You nodded. He took notice of your messy hair and your weary demeanor. "You sure look like you need a break. " He chuckled.

"Gee thanks, Yamaguchi."

"Oh!" His eyes suddenly brightened up before placing a hand on your shoulder. "Come over and have a drink or two! It's the weekend, you should let loose!" A drink was probably what you needed right now, anyway.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty nice." You conceded. Yamaguchi beamed in response. You closed your door and followed your neighbour into his unit.

"Make yourself at home." Yamaguchi made his way to the fridge. "I'll grab drinks. Any preferences?"

"The hardest ones you've got." You both laughed.

"Gotcha." You sat down on the couch and leaned back. You glanced around. You spot a familiar set of brushes and paints—the ones from the studio. You looked around once more until you spotted him sat by the balcony.

"Tsukishima?" You caught the blonde boy in the middle of ogling at you, seemingly somewhat buzzed already. His eyes widened the moment your eyes met, and quickly looked away. He placed his headphones back on and took another swig from his bottle.

"Sorry, Y/N." Yamaguchi chimed in as he headed towards you with two red cups. "I figured if I mentioned Tsukki was staying over tonight, you'd refuse to come over." You shook your head, smiling reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Yamaguchi. He didn't hurt me or anything." You sighed. "I overreacted a bit too." He handed you a cup and sat down beside you.

"Tsukki told me what happened. He regretted being so brash with you."

"He did?" Yamaguchi nodded, glancing over at Tsukishima.

"You want to know how he's gotten so good at painting?"

"Sure."

"The thing his professor told him—that he lacks inspiration in his work—it's not unfounded. It's something he's struggled with long before he started art school. He figured that if he explored more techniques—that if he got better—he'll eventually find something to inspire him. He's gotten so talented, but he rarely feels fulfilled from his work. It's made him feel like an inadequate artist, which is why he's resorted to teasing and such."

"Oh." You frowned. "I never thought of it like that."

"Don't worry! I believe he's recently found that source of inspiration. You should see the painting he's done for your term project!" Yamaguchi leaned back on the couch. "Tsukki's never been the best at being positive or open, so you'll have to forgive him. The teasing get annoying, surely, but he means well. He's teased me since we were kids, but I've come to realize that that's how he shows he's invested in someone."

"No way—I don't buy it."

"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true! You'll see." He grinned. "I'm not sure if you'll see Super Drunk Tsukishima tonight, but he can be quite sentimental." He chuckled.

"Now that would be a sight to see." You snickered. "What kind of drunk are you, Yamaguchi?"

"There's only one way to find out, right?" He snickered as you both clinked your cups and guzzled down your drinks.

A few drinks later, it didn't take long to find yourself drunk and beside a passed-out, mumbling Yamaguchi on the couch. Zoned out, you let out a couple of hiccups. You suddenly caught a moving figure from the corner of your eye. You sluggishly turned your head to find Tsukishima stumbling to grab another bottle from the fridge. You sneered loudly.

"Tsssukki—can I call you Tsukki? I'm gonna call you Tsukki—someone should cut you off."

"Cut me off? I paced myself—" The boy rebutted, flimsily pointing at you. He hiccuped. "unlike you. Take a look at yourself, Y/N. And look what you did to Yamagusshi!"

"Pffft. He did that to himself." You cackled. He groaned before opening his bottle and shuffling back, sitting down on the balcony floor. After a second, you decided to follow him out and plop down beside him. "Tsukki, I'm sorryyy—" You turned to him and pouted. "I yelled at'cha that one time. I didn't know y'were sad tooo." Taken aback, the boy furrowed his brows, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who upset you." He pointed the neck of the bottle to himself, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I'm the asshole here." Your drunk ass couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Asshole! You said 'asshole'!" You continued to cackle, leaning back too much as you began to lose balance. Before you knew it, Tsukishima reached out, catching you with one hand grasped onto your wrist and his other hand wrapped around your waist.

"Oi, be careful." He gently pulled you back upward as you continued to giggle to yourself, still seemingly unaware of his actions. You finally realized what just occurred the moment you felt his hand pull away from your waist. Flustered, you looked away for a moment and grumbled.

"You sure are an asshhole, Kei." You muttered, trying hard not to slur your words. "Y'know—you i-insult me all the ti—"

"I know, and I'm sorr—"

"But y-you also do these things that make m-my heart skip a beat—"

"Y/N—" He stammered.

"A-and I get all confused about you, and I never know what to feel—"

"Y/N."

"I mean—w-why me? Why aren't you like this to other people?"

"Because I don't care about other people." Tsukishima's words finally cut you off. You gazed at him as the moonlight lit up his flustered face. You felt his grip on your wrist slide down as he gently held your hand. He locked his eyes onto yours. You hoped your flushed cheeks from the alcohol were enough to hide your blushing as he slowly leaned his face closer.

THUD!

You both turned your head back into the main room to find Yamaguchi on the foot of the couch.

"Tsukki..." He groaned. "Bathroom...puke...n-now..." Tsukishima sighed. He looked at you once more before he stammered.

"I should go help him..." You nodded, still flustered. He released your hand as he rose to his feet and clumsily headed over to Yamaguchi to help him. You gently hit your cheeks with the palms of your hands. You figured those two would be occupied for a while, so you decided to trudge back to your apartment without bidding them goodbye. You felt as if your emotions were at their limit, anyway. It was going to be one hell of a hangover the next day.

—&

You couldn't remember a lot from that night at Yamaguchi's place, but the feeling of Tsukishima's hand grasped onto yours still lingered on your mind. You weren't sure if you were imagining it or not—or if you just wanted it to happen. None of that mattered right now; there wasn't much time left before the end of the semester. For the remainder of the time, you focused solely on schoolwork, determined on creating the best final product for your studio class' final term project to your ability. You knew you still had ways to go, but you've surely improved your technique. You were grateful to Tsukishima, but you didn't have the time to entertain anymore confusion from your emotions.

"How could I have forgotten the varnish?" You grumbled as you paced your way to the studio one day, picking up some supplies. Right before entering, you took notice of the figures already in the studio: Tsukishima in front of a small panel of art professors. You gasped and hid behind the door. His critique for the term project must've been today. You peeked your head out the door to take a closer look inside.

Your eyes couldn't help but focus on Tsukishima, surprised by how much more devotedly he seems answering the professors' comments; a huge contrast compared to his previous demeanor during previous crits in class. You smiled. It was admirable seeing him like that. You glanced over to the painting he presented. It was a beautiful depiction of the sky at dusk: a gorgeous mix of colours at sunset with an ethereal sky of stars above. Even from a distance, it wasn't hard to appreciate his mastery of technique. Another detail of the painting caught your eye: the female figure in the middle whose presence was subtle, yet significant. As you pieced together her features, you slowly realized that the figure in his painting strongly resembled you.

"Hold on—" The sound of applause and chairs scraping on the floor interrupted your train of thought. You gasped as you hid around the corner, waiting for the studio to clear. You heard the voices fading off as they walked out of the studio and waited a few moments before deciding the coast was clear. You snuck into the studio, only to find one more person across the room.

"I saw you peeking, you know." Tsukishima remarked, packing up his artwork. "You're not stealthy at all."

"I figured." You sighed. "I'm just here to pick up some varnish for my project. How did your crit go?"

"I think it went well." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "I never talked this much during crits, but it was easier since I had some inspiration to drive me."

"Hey, that's awesome! I knew you had it in you!" You grinned. "It was a beautiful painting, by the way. It's funny—for a second, I thought the person in your painting sort of looked like me." You laughed awkwardly. The boy raised a brow.

"I painted Urania, one of the Nine Muses in Greek mythology. The Muse of astronomy. So yeah—don't flatter yourself."

"I guess you took my advice literally, huh." You replied, grimacing. You went over to the supply cabinet to pick up the varnish. The boy took notice of your change in tone and scratched his head.

"Sorry. That was unnecessary."

"it's fine." Silence fell upon the studio. Tsukishima finally cleared his throat.

"I mean—that's at least what I told the professors who she was. There's a hidden layer to the painting that I didn't mention."

"What do you mean?"

"What you said earlier—that you thought Urania resembled you. It's because I painted her to resemble you, and the way you admired the sky. Did you think it was a coincidence she looked like you in a painting where I also painted what you said was your muse?"

"W-why paint me, then?" You stammered. He sighed. You sensed a change in his demeanor.

"It baffled me how each crit in class, you're always so adamant on the message of your paintings. It was something I admire about you— and something I wanted to be able to do. Through you, I learned to find inspiration from even the most mundane things." He slowly made his way across the room to you. You grew flustered.

"Tsukishima..." You took a step back, getting backed up by the wall. He stopped right in front of you, towering over you. You felt your cheeks warm up. He took the jar of varnish from your hand and tucked it in his back pocket.

"I meant what I said back at Yamaguchi's place—that I didn't care about anyone else but you. So hearing what you said that night..." A deep, golden shade of sunlight shone through the window pane and onto you as the sun began to set. You reached for Tsukishima’s shirt and gently tugged on it. He reached for your other hand and held it. He cupped his other hand on your cheek and tilted your head upward towards him. "You said you didn't believe I didn't have a muse, but I swore on it. Now—now it's different, because I've found you, Y/N." He leaned his face closer, your eyes fixed onto each other's. "You're my muse." He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and kissed back. As your kisses grew deeper, you tugged on his shirt a bit stronger to pull his body closer to yours. He intertwined your fingers together, holding each other's hand tighter. This all felt right. Eventually, you lightly pulled away from each other, panting softly. You fixed your gaze on his golden-brown eyes once more. There was now a strong glint to them, unlike before. It made you happy.

"I'm honoured to be your muse, Kei." You softly replied, grinning widely. Hearing your reply, Tsukishima let out a soft laugh—it was the happiest you've seen him look. You liked seeing him this happy. He sighed.

"Here." He let go of your hand to reach for his back pocket and return the jar of varnish. "I’ll walk you home. I'm staying over at Yamaguchi's tonight." You took the jar and tucked it away in your bag. He followed you out of the studio and you began walking back to the apartment complex together.

"Your brother brought his girlfriend over again?" He nodded. "That's been happening more frequently. Doesn't it get annoying?"

"A bit. It's fine, though—" He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. "Soon enough, I might have to kick him out this time." He smirked. Growing flustered again, you gasped.

"Tsukishima, you pervert!" He sneered before speeding up his pace and leaving you behind. You scoffed, chasing after him. "Oi, get back here!"

—&

You gently slapped your cheeks with the palms of your hands—psyching yourself up. Your critique for your final term project is mere minutes away. You muttered to yourself as you paced back and forth in front of the studio.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."

"You can do this." Tsukishima repeated, having your painting in hand. "You have nothing to worry about."

"What if it's not good enough?" You fretted.

"You've worked so hard this whole term. I mean, look at this." He took another look at the canvas. "It's both meticulous and insightful. They'll love it."

"Are you su—" He promptly handed you back the canvas, interrupting you.

"They'll love it." He repeated once more. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "There. Only because you can't reach me from down there." He snickered, while you rolled your eyes. You heard a voice from the studio call your name. "Go knock 'em dead." You smiled at him once more before stepping into the studio. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for the professors' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school. However, now with better faith in your skills and in your muse, you figured you'll be alright.

#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #art school au

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shinidamachu · 4 years ago

Text

Ours

Summary: The stakes are high. The water's rough. But this love is ours. Word Count: 10.816 Genre: Fluff? Angst? Who’s to say? Certainly not me, the author. Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

“Sota, put this thing away. I won’t ask you again.”

“Fine!” The teenager let out in exasperation, putting the phone back into the confinement of his pocket.

His grandpa was making him lose his mind. In the interlude of fifteen minutes, the old man had managed to rant about how kids these days always had their faces stuffed into some kind of screen twice.

The bit about damaging the sight and going blind by the age of thirty-five because of it? A lecture all of its own.

“In my time,” he began, making Sota fight the urgency to groan, “we treated the elderly with respect and behaved at the table. It’s a sacred moment!”

“We’re not even eating, anyway! Kagome and her stupid boyfriend are late.”

“Sota! Manners!” Intervened his mom. “We don’t want InuYasha to think Kagome’s family is made up of inconsiderate barbarians, do we?”

Sota rolled his eyes, but remained silent. It was gonna be a long night.

There they were, in Earth’s lamest restaurant, waiting for his sister to arrive with her new boyfriend, who, going with the odds, was probably a goody-two-shoes nerd, just like that Hojo guy.

There was no one his age within the radius of a mile.

He was starving.

And to top it all off, bored to death.

It wasn’t like Sota didn’t love his family. He really did. Besides, seeing Kagome again was something he was looking forward to. Since she had moved out for medical school, they hadn’t spent much time together and although the boy would never admit it, he had quite missed their daily bickering.

He just wished they could met at home, in company of his TV and video games, where he could actually avoid his grandpa’s constant scolding in the holy peace of his bedroom.

“Look! Look, look, look, look, look.” As if on cue, the man in question elbowed Sota’s arm, coaxing him to eye the restaurant entrance. He silently snorted, wondering why his grandpa felt the annoying need to repeat the same word grumpier and more demanding each time. Didn’t he know Sota could hear him just fine from the first one? Nevertheless, wanting to get it over with, the boy did as he was told. A silver haired gentleman stayed awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, his attention torned between the salon and the outside. Even from afar, his demonic heritage stood out, but the dog ears crowning his head wasn’t the only remarkable feature he carried. “See his arms? What a disgrace, to dishonor his own body like that. I pray you, my boy, that you never inflict such disappointment on your old grandfather. I couldn’t bear the pain of seeing my only grandson grow into mafia scum.”

Sota didn’t respond the overdramatic affirmation. He was wonderstruck.

In spite of the anxiety the guy irradiated, he still looked pretty cool, dressed on dark jeans and an elegant white shirt. He had his sleeves rolled up to the biceps, displaying an impressive amount of tattoos. They covered all of the skin, from his wrists to his forearms, possibly ending at the shoulders. It was hard to make out the different shapes, given the distance, but every single one was drawn in black ink.

“Stop staring, you two.” Sang his mom. And Sota was about to obey.

But then, in entered his sister.

Kagome clung to the tattooed, supposedly criminal man, causing him to relax on the spot as her gaze scanned the room.

When the girl finally found them, her face lighted up in an excited smile. She said what, reading her lips, Sota interpreted as ‘there they are’ before taking him by the hand and heading right to their suddenly silent table.

It seemed that the night wouldn’t pass by without its share of emotions, after all.

“InuYasha,are you ready? I don’t want to be late!”

The hanyou sighed in front of the mirror. Did she mean finished with dressing up ready or psychologically ready? It didn’t matter. The answer was no for both.

InuYasha had tried on almost every clothe he had. It served him right for letting piles and more piles of worn-out band t-shirts compose his wardrobe.

His mother had a point. He could definitely use a little makeover.

Every piece felt either too ordinary or too odd, so InuYasha gave up and went back to the button-down shirt he had put first — one of the few decent things he had to wear.

Now closed in their bathroom, determined to pay his mother’s atelier a visit as soon as possible and obsessively aligning the outfit, he couldn’t help but think the reflection staring back didn’t look like him at all.

“Actually, can we reschedule?”

“No way!” Squeaked his girlfriend, her steps louder and louder in her approach. “We’ve been postponing this for too long. Okay, I’m coming in!” She announced, opening the door at once.

“Whatever happened to privacy?”

“It moved out when I moved in.” His girlfriend threw him her best heart stopping smirk and walked in his direction. “Don’t you look gorgeous?”

“Keh. You always say that.” And he had yet to hear it without blushing.

“It’s always true.” Kagome wrapped her arms around his neck. With the extra inches the heels provided, she was nearly his height and her rose lips hovered temptingly within the reach of his. “Won’t you get hot on this shirt, though? We’re in the middle of summer.”

“I’ll be fine!” InuYasha burst out before he could bite back his tongue. Kagome considered him attentively, her narrowed eyes growing wide in realization.

“You’re hiding the tattoos, aren’t you?”

InuYasha looked away.

“I want them to like me.”

It was a difficult enough task to achieve. Being a half breed, he was despised by demons and feared by humans — apparently his ears, fangs and claws, not to mention the unusual color of his eyes and hair, were a lot for them to take in. The absolute last thing InuYasha needed was for her family to think he was some sort of delinquent too. Which, of course, they would.

He figured, since people would be afraid of him either way, he might as well took it to his advantage and do whatever he wanted, consequences be damned. As a result, whoever wasn’t scared of his demon blood sure pissed their pants at the sight of his tattoos, taking him for a criminal. InuYasha couldn’t care less. There was a good amount of fights against human opponents he won that way.

But that was before her.

Not caring is easier when you have nothing to lose.

InuYasha didn’t doubt his actions would blow up on his face, eventually. It was all they ever did. But never, not even in a million years, he could have predicted Kagome. Now consequences were here to bite him in the ass.

Her folks had plenty to unpack the way it was. At least with the tattoos he could do something about.

“InuYasha…” Her slender fingers caressed his chin, demanding his focus entirely for herself. He complied. “You don’t have to do this. I want you to be yourself.” She grabbed his right arm and rolled the sleeve all the way up, revealing the intricate mosaic of figures, doodles and forms he collected along the last decade. “They are going to love you.”

“Easy for you to say, now that my family worships the ground you walk on.”

It had only taken a mild sunday lunch. By the end of it, Kagome had Mr. and Mrs. Taisho eating from the palm of her hand, just like she had their son. That was the day his mother had furtively handed him the engagement ring she inherited from her mother, claiming Kagome was the one he should give it to when the right moment comes. There was no falter from his part.

A month had passed, Kagome and his mom texted one another on a daily basis, and the damn thing still weighed deep inside his pocket. InuYasha carried it with him everywhere, waiting for the perfect occasion and concerned that she might find it if he left it lying around.

“Well, worship is such a strong word...” Said Kagome, doing with his left sleeve the same thing she did with the other, but this time allowing herself to trace the black marks of his arm, lingering on the newest, the little sakura flower InuYasha had gotten solely for her. He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, maybe your parents do it a little bit, but your brother hates my guts. You gotta give me that.”

“Nah, Sesshoumaru hates everyone. You ain’t special.”

“Huh… Thanks?”

InuYasha smiled at her adorable grimace, but it was short lived.

“What if they don’t? Like me, I mean.”

Both of them knew it was a real possibility.

If they were being honest, they hated each other at the beginning themselves. Most of it, undoubtful, due to repressed sexual attraction. Still, they were constantly jumping at each other’s throats before starting to jump at each other’s bones.

Attracting and repelling like magnets, they have been through a crazy amount of screaming, crying and slamming doors. Once it was clear that what they had was much more than sex, the need had risen to protect that love at all costs.

They had to.

Every odd was against them.

He was a half demon. Most people hated him at worse and tolerated at best — and that had a lot to do with his family’s money, Kagome being one of the uncommon exceptions. In fact, she was the exception to essentially every rule he had.

She was also a human. No, not only a human. That would be too easy. The girl was a priestess. Her family was responsible for a fucking shrine.

Their relationship was the epitome of taboo.

So they had kept it on the low for as long as they could, adopting a discreet profile even after she moved in with him. They didn’t want to risk it, didn’t want to jinx it. It wasn’t worth it.

Their love was theirs and theirs alone, too precious to fall into the cruel claws of the world.

It was a shame it couldn’t stay that way forever.

Sooner or later they would have to leave the safe heaven inside those walls and he was terrified of finding out whether or not they could take it.

Kagome’s kindness, her unprejudiced beliefs... They had to come from somewhere, and she affirmed it was from her family. How would her folks react, however, once those beliefs were put to the test? InuYasha learned from experience that, sometimes, people struggled to stick to their morals the second they stopped being convenient.

“Then it will be just another bump on the road. What’s one more?”

Her hands flew to undo his top button — and nothing more. Tensing involuntarily when her digits contacted the exposed skin, InuYasha let out a shaky breath as she retreated to explore his chest over the shirt, shamelessly going lower.

“Weren’t you the one in a hurry just now?”

“I am.” She defied.

“I’m not.”

InuYasha placed his hands on her waist and pressed her against the nearest wall. He couldn’t help it, not after the things she said. Especially when she said them with that dress on — light blue, contrasting with the darkness of her hair, the skirt hugging her waistline, widening at the bottom. No sleeves. Only provocative, unbelievably thin straps. So different from her everyday white clothes.

It was his favorite and he had no doubt it was intentional.

“InuYasha…”

Her mouth was off limits. InuYasha knew better than to mess up her makeup mere minutes away of such important event. Her neck, on the other hand…

“Don’t you look gorgeous?” He asked, nose burying on her skin.

“Uh, uh. D-don’t you sweet talk me.” Kagome tilted her head, giving him unrestrained access and grabbing a handful of his hair as he hooked her leg around him, fingers lifting her skirt up, venturing further and further.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She was limp in his embrace. InuYasha recognized by instinct when his body was the only thing preventing hers from melting to the ground.

“We… We’re doing this.”

“I know.” He eagerly kissed her collarbone, downing to the start of the cleavage.

“It’s just a harmless dinner...” She was panting now, nails traveling through his back, applying sufficient pressure to make quite the damage had he been naked. InuYasha went up her throat, his tongue wandering free.

“Hmmm.”

“...And then… T-then we’ll go... to my childhood house.” Kagome paused and he knew it was to hold back a moan as he relentlessly kissed his way up to her chin and jawline, finding destination at her earlobe. “You’ll get…” He bit it. “... T-to see my old bedroom,” bargained her. InuYasha smirked.

“I’m listening,” he whispered, returning to her neck. InuYasha had every intention to suck on the inviting flesh until it left a mark, but restrained himself. Something told him her family wouldn’t be fond of it.

His resolve not to claim her lips, though, were increasingly fading. Whatever. Better beg for her taste now and for her forgiveness later.

Reading his thoughts — as she often did —, Kagome gently pushed him away. Good. Their proximity, allied with the escalating scent of her arousal, wasn’t making them any favors in the ‘getting out of the house’ department.

“Come on,” she tapped his hand, subtly pleading for him to release her leg, a lead that InuYasha followed with extreme reluctance. He observed as his girlfriend regained composure. The fingers that not long ago were mapping, grasping and scratching every inch of him now fixed the dress strap he had no memory of pulling down. To a newcomer, it would look as if nothing had ever happened. “We’ll have a wonderful time.”

“To be fair, I was having a wonderful time just now.”

“Oh, I can tell you were. That’s exactly why we better get going.”

“Fine.” InuYasha sighed, letting himself be dragged out of their bathroom as she giggled at his less than thrilled disposition.

And there was something about her laughter — so vibrant and carefree — that, combined with the welcome comfort of her hand on his, made InuYasha feel invincible. Having Kagome by his side was like entering the boxe ring already ten points ahead.

“Do you want to go through the basics again?”

Crossing the living room, InuYasha recited his mental notes without missing a beat, the perfect picture of an A+ student, even if for the most part of his life, he had been a solid C+.

“Don’t swear. Don’t bring up your father. Don’t mention we live together.”

“Good! Unless...” Kagome stopped and turned to him. Half hesitant, half hopeful. “Do you think I should tell mom I moved here?”

InuYasha was conflicted. It was only fair that she did. His parents had heard the news the day she brought all of her stuff in. And in spite of knowing he’d give her the world if she so wished, Kagome never asked for much.

Yet, he was scared. Scared that Mrs. Higurashi disapproved the arrangement. Scared she would tell her daughter to leave.

What, then?

He had forgotten how his apartment — their apartment — used to be before the bright colors and pout-porris. Before the plants, the second toothbrush on the sink, the pictures frames and the intoxicating scent her body left all over the sheets.

And he didn’t want to remember.

According to Kagome, however, her mother was an understanding, open-minded woman, who put her children’s happiness above everything else. Which certainly worked in his favor, since InuYasha had turned making Kagome happy into his daily mission and, modesty aside, he believed to be doing a pretty damn good job so far.

InuYasha starred at their fingers, still interlocked, and reminded to be brave.

“If you feel like you should...”

“I do! I honestly do. We used to tell every little thing to each other. I miss that.”

“Then go ahead.”

“Really?” She thanked him with a tight hug, her palpable excitement coming off her in a giant wave that almost washed all of his doubts away. Almost.

“What about the others?”

“Sota is a child, it’s not of his business.”

“And your grandfather?”

Kagome moved within his embrace, revealing pursed lips when she did.

“Yeah... He’ll definitely need more time. Let’s give it three to five years!”

A surprised laugh left his lips when he saw the truth behind the joke.

“You’re freaking out about telling him, aren’t you?”

“Am not!”

“You totally are!” He said, deflecting from the fact that he, too, was panicking and that waiting five years or more to have that talk was actually a very appealing idea.

“It’s just… He can be a tad traditional sometimes.”

“Awesome!” InuYasha said, with every drop of sarcasm he could gather. “We both know I’m all about traditions.”

Smiling, she reached for his hand again.

“Shall we?”

They call it ripple effect. It’s the situation in which one event produces a certain impact, inevitably spreading and producing further consequences. The concept usually comes with the classic example of throwing a rock in a steady pond, which InuYasha thought fitting. Whenever the half demon first stepped into a crowd of strangers, he pretty much felt like that rock.

Heads would turn straight to him in cascade. Surprise. Terror. Disgust. Condescension. Pity. As years went by, he had gotten it all.

Be as it may, soon enough the staring would abruptly get directed anywhere else and be replaced with whispers they didn’t know he could hear. Eventually, the waters would settle, but after the initial contact, the pond could never go back to the way it was. Neither could the rock.

His father had taught him to keep his chin up no matter what. The hatred of lesser men was an irrelevant price to pay for being unique. He should be proud of who he is. His mother had told him not to seek validation from others when he already had people who loved and cared for him unconditionally. Those were the guidances InuYasha religiously lived by. Still, sometimes, the hanyou wished he was allowed to just be.

That night was surely the case.

The restaurant was crowded. It should be, in such a busy hour. The habitual glaring didn’t go unnoticed by InuYasha when he walked in — it bore holes on his flesh and broke into his bones. As usual, he brushed it off.

His focus oscillated like the flames inside the ornamental lanterns that provided warmth to the place in shades of red, orange and yellow.

Before him, undistinguished buzz raised above the background music and the pervasive smell of food served as a cruel reminder that he hadn’t put anything in his stomach since lunch. The lights, the sounds, the people, the scents. It was an overwhelming sensation to contemplate it all. In another day, in a calmer state of mind, he would have spotted her family in a heartbeat. Kagome, the loving daughter she was, had shown him enough pictures of them for the task to be a child’s play. Still, he didn’t dare to look. Not yet. Not when he was so unsure of what he might find written all over their faces. The same phrases on different pages.

Behind him, a delighted Kagome chatted in the staircase with the woman she had introduced as her middle school history professor. InuYasha had promptly forgotten her name. In no mood for engaging the conversation and wanting to save all of his small talk for dinner, he had politely excused himself, opting for walking ahead while the two of them reminisced.

Obviously, he had underestimated her communication skills, because a considerable amount of time had passed until Kagome caught up to him. Her arm tangled up with his quite easily. All at once, everything was gone, reduced to the speck of dust they were. There was only Kagome, searching the room in concentration. And there was only him, dazed by the smile that accommodated so well on her face, by the colors dancing on her cheeks and lights glittering on her eyes.

“There they are!” Kagome announced, breaking the spell.

His throat went completely dry. On his brain, sirens ran off, telling him to run for his life. How disappointed would she get if he grabbed her and fled? InuYasha also wondered, in vain, what the opponents he had faced would think, if they discovered what a coward the man who had ruthlessly knocked them out truly was. Kagome guided him towards the table where her family awaited, dispelling the intrusive thoughts away.

“Sorry we’re late!” She sat down and so did InuYasha, taking the free spot by her side. “We got caught up in traffic.”

“That’s alright, honey.” Mrs. Higurashi reassured with a tone as sweet as her smile. “I’m just glad you’re here now. We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. So much!” She replied, drinking each component of her family in, as if to carve their features into her memory so she might have something to hold onto until they met again. After a brief pause, Kagome kicked off the introductions. “Everyone, this is InuYasha. InuYasha, this is my family.”

Her grandfather was a perfect materialization of the pictures InuYasha had seen, with his wrinkled skin, grey hair and stoic expression. Her mother, too, matched up his expectations. The woman portrayed an effortless type of beauty, all dimples and heart-shaped face framed by wavy, short brown hair.

It was Sota who surprised him the most.

From Kagome’s descriptions, InuYasha was under the impression the boy would be way smaller than he actually was — although he was small, considering he was still a child. The half demon couldn’t decide if Kagome was oblivious to Sota’s growth due to her crazy student schedule or if it was her big sister bias that affected her judgement, but it was clear that Sota was gonna be taller than her in the near future. The boy also looked very clever for his age — even to someone in InuYasha’s case, who knew little to nothing about kids — and stared at him with something suspiciously close to expectancy.

InuYasha cleared his throat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The reciprocal is hardly true.” Whipped a dissonant baritone, so rigid it cut the air. “I haven’t heard much of you, that’s for sure and certain.”

There was no naivety left on InuYasha to believe the lack of reciprocity the man mentioned had anything to do with whether Kagome had told them detailed stories about her new boyfriend or not.

Apparently, Mrs. Higurashi had picked up on how shallow his last sentence sounded as well, because she was quick to swoop in and smooth things over.

“You were, indeed, a mystery, InuYasha.”

“I told you why.” Intervened Kagome, in an apologizing tone. “We were still figuring things out.”

“Well, if you two are done with figuring things out, can we please eat?” Sota retorted. InuYasha had no complaints there. Unfortunately, the elderly man interrupted them with the unapologetic conviction of someone who wasn’t aware a conversation was being had, or that simply didn’t care.

“Are you a Yakuza member?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by the hanyou that the man had addressed him twice without calling his name once. Nonetheless, the question was absolutely directed to InuYasha. Even if the word ‘Yakuza’ wasn’t instantly associated with the tattoos he carried, there were other indications. The abrupt silence that followed, one step away from a cliff of awkwardness, for instance. Or the hawk eyes of Kagome’s grandfather, studying his every move.

Luckly, he had warned his girlfriend in advance something like that could happen. More often than not, it did. To the point where he was used to it. And as much as she didn’t like it, he resolved to brush it off, at least for the night.

“Because of the tattoos?” He asked, playing dumb. “I get that a lot, but no. I just think they’re cool.” InuYasha shrugged, then felt the uncontrollable need to over explain himself: “The tattoos, I mean. Not the mafia.”

That earned him a laugh from Sota and a chuckle from Mrs. Higurashi. Kagome and her grandfather didn’t find it so funny.

“Grandpa, tattoos are very common thing all around the world! Don’t you think if everyone who had one was a Yakuza member, we’d be in serious trouble by now?” InuYasha observed her spit the acid comeback, thrown off to see their parts inverted. Usually, he was the one starting fires left and right and she was the placid source of water that always put them down. Again, the man ignored it.

“Then what do you do for a living?”

InuYasha almost smirked. That was precisely the sort of cliche interrogatory he was expecting — no, that he was wishing. After walking on so many eggshells, they were finally entering known territory and, as he felt the firm path of a parents pleaser answer forming under his feet, his confidence boosted.

“I’m majoring in business administration. My father wants my brother and I to learn as much as we can, if we’re gonna run the family company someday.”

It was extremely satisfying to watch the guy trying and failing to come up with any judgemental thing to say. His mouth sealed into a thin line.

“But what InuYasha really wants is to be a boxer.”

His head snapped to Kagome, astonished that she would turn him in there and then. The girl was not kidding when she demanded him to be himself.

“No way!” Sota exclaimed the words in the precise way his sister did when she was excited.

“Isn’t this dangerous, dear?” Mrs. Higurashi was genuine concerned. Her cinnamon irises studied him carefully, as if already searching for wounds. It reminded him of his own mother.

“Actually, InuYasha is undefeated.” Kagome replied for him, not bothering to hide the pride tone in her voice.

So it’s chill when you brag about it, but when I do, I’m a cocky jerk. He amused, simultaneously deciding it sounded better when she did, anyway.

“Awesome! How come I have never seen you fight on TV?”

At Sota’s crescent interest, InuYasha answered in a bursting of atypical modesty.

“I didn’t get there just yet.”

“I’m sure it’s a matter of time.” Encouraged Mrs. Higurashi. Kagome’s grandfather scoffed. “I must ask you, though: how did you two met?”

“My sister isn’t the most athletic of girls.” Agreed Sota.

“I can’t believe I missed you.” The girl fired back.

“That’s true. But I can tell you first hand that she’s got a mean right hook.”

Her brother was thrilled. Her mom, not so much.

“She punched you?”

“Oh, my.”

“No! I gave her a couple of self defense classes, that’s all.” InuYasha hurried to explain.

“Oh!” Mrs. Higurashi seemed visibly relieved her daughter didn’t walk around purposefully breaking the criminal code. “Well, in that case I really appreciate it. Thank you, dear.”

“So that’s how you met? Self defense classes?”

“Not quite.”

The self defense classes came way later, in what InuYasha labeled as the ‘denial’ phase.

It started on a random night. They were arguing over something stupid, for a change. Things escalated rather fast and, against his better judgement, they had angry sex on her couch. He hadn’t thought much of it back them, telling himself they were just blowing off steam, that it wouldn’t happen again.

Only it did.

Over and over.

It was useless to fight it. No way to escape it. After a while, InuYasha had stopped trying and accepted the fact that every road lead him back to her bed. What he couldn’t, wouldn’t, refused to acknowledge, however, was that somewhere along the way, an invisible line was crossed and, as animosity gave space to awkward cordiality and awkward cordiality gave space to unlikely fondness, Kagome became much more than a mind-blowing fuck, even if at first he was too stubborn to say so.

And so, InuYasha came up with socially acceptable excuses to spend more time with her without it coming off as a big deal, hence the self defense classes. They were perfect for them, once it was something he mastered and it involved lots of physical contact. Besides, the half demon slept better at night, knowing Kagome could throw a proper punch at anyone who got too handsy. It wasn’t part of the ordinary self defense program, but then again, she was no ordinary girl. Although her spiritual powers assured no youkai would lay a finger on her, the priestess was on her own in terms of human threats. What InuYasha did was making sure that was enough.

They’ve been inseparable ever since.

“We’ve met through Miroku long before that.” Kagome clarified, conveniently leaving the petty behavior and childish arguments they had that first day out of it. “InuYasha is his roommate. Also, Sango has been friends with him since he was ten.”

“Oh!” The table nodded in understanding, working the math for themselves. It wasn’t a difficult calculation to make.

Miroku was a close friend of her family. Quite literally, given they were neighbors for as long as the bastard could remember. His family was spiritually gifted like no other and took to themselves the responsibility to help little Kagome Higurashi to improve her abilities to the fullest. As a result, they grew up together. People often confused them for siblings and at heart, they were.

InuYasha met the nuisance of a friend several years later, when both of them entered college. Graduation certainly wasn’t his biggest goal in life. Far from it. It was more like a boring thing he had to do in order to conquer his deserved space in the real world. Regardless, the half demon was eager to enjoy his first shot at independency.

He found a great place right outside campus, but the extent of time he could afford it without resorting to his folk’s pockets was limited. Doing all of the domestic chores by himself wasn’t appealing, either. He needed a roommate.

A river of candidates flooded his inbox — it was truly a fantastic deal — Miroku stood out for being the only human to reply to his advertisement. Curious, InuYasha booked an interview. The man was clearly a womanizer, appreciated a good booze and was the farthest thing from what he claimed his family to be. Or from what InuYasha looked for in a friend.

And yet, to his total bewilderment, they hit it off right away.

How was he supposed to know Miroku would fall for Sango?

His best friend Sango.

The same Sango who helped him to train under the correct and outraging pretext that she had always been faster, that his defense was pathetic and that she would hate to see him get his ass kicked.

Gorgeous, confident, heart of gold Sango…

Yes, standing back from it now, InuYasha was a fool for not seeing it coming, since that was the obvious part.

The not so obvious one was that the two lovebirds would engage into a very loving, very serious relationship and that when Sango’s turn came to move out for college, Miroku would suggest an old friend to fill the vacant roommate position in her new apartment. A freshman as well, named Kagome.

And so InuYasha’s undoing began.

An unplanned dinner with mutual friends was hardly the most remarkable way to meet someone, but whenever InuYasha thought about the exquisite series of coincidences, about all of the incidents bound to happen in order to put them face to face in that distant autumn night… Well, he couldn’t shake the feeling it was meant to be, even if he had never had much faith in destiny, soulmates or any of that corny crap, there was no denying that suddenly every love song started making sense.

Flash forward and Miroku switched places with Kagome to better attend the living situation for the four of them. And that was that.

“What a… Delightful turn of events.” The venomous remark of the Higurashi patriarch brought the hanyou back to the present. This polite facade was what bothered him the most and InuYasha wanted the man, just for once, to say what he actually meant to say.

“Isn’t it?” Said Kagome, her enthusiasm palpable. If the girl had noticed the sarcasm hidden in that comment — and InuYasha was willing to bet so —, she made a point to disdain it, landing one hand on his knee, a discreet act of support.

Her grandfather clenched his jaw.

“InuYasha, you mentioned your family owns a company.” Mrs. Higurashi changed the subject unapologetically. “Any chances we have heard of it?”

He clung to the distraction like it was a life jacket.

“Probably, yeah! Taisho Inc.?”

“As in Toga Taisho?” Sota asked, his chin dropping. “Toga Taisho is your dad?”

“And Izayoi is his mom.” Kagome added, fixing a knowing gaze on her own mother, whose bewilderment now mirrored her son’s.

“The Izayoi?”

“The one and only.” The hanyou nodded, accustomed to the heated reactions his distinguished bloodline got him. For better or for worse.

“Oh, her brand is fantastic! I read somewhere every clothing collection is environment friendly. And they’re so affordable, too!”

“Mom, you’re jabbering.” Interjected Sota.

“Sorry.” She said. More to be polite than anything else. “I’m a huge fan of her work!”

“So I’ve been told.” InuYasha glanced at Kagome, who stared at him right back. It was all it took, and he would be able to draw a meticulous picture of what she was thinking: both their mothers, chatting and enjoying a cold cup of tea under the setting sun like long date friends. Knowing his mom — and now Mrs. Higurashi — that was quite a possible scene.

“I’m sure the two of you will meet at some point.” Proclaimed Kagome. “Anyway… You won’t believe who InuYasha and I bumped into when we arrived—”

“Miss Kaede.” Sota and Mrs. Higurashi simultaneously answered, and at Kagome’s questioning expression, the boy shrugged. “She saw when we got here and came to say hi.”

They ordered minutes after.

The meal was hot and tasty, one of the best InuYasha had ever had. It helped that having dinner with her family, as it turned out, had been an overall pleasant experience. Light. Breezy. Sota and Mrs Higurashi did a wonderful job at keeping him comfortable. InuYasha would go as far as saying they had liked him, and for that he was insanely grateful.

Kagome’s grandfather, however, was a whole other story. The guy despised him and didn’t lift a finger to cover it, but he had spent the rest of the night relatively quiet about it, so InuYasha labeled it as progress.

He had offered them a ride home and they had accepted, just like Kagome said they would. It was funny, the speed in which he grew accustomed to their dynamics. Kagome and her brother mindless bickering, their mother pretending exasperation while secretly pleased, the drive filled with childhood tales and life updates, a innocent joke every now and then. It was decidedly something InuYasha could be a part of.

Their property was a rustic piece of land inserted between one urban construction and the next, refusing to be touched by modern convenience. Kagome’s enchantment for the place was justified. Growing up in there couldn’t have been anything less than magical.

“It’s not much,” Mrs. Higurashi apologized, “but it’s home.” She opened the door and turned on the light.

The house seemed bigger on the inside. Not fancy big. Cozy big. On every wall, past and future merged themselves in harmony. The decoration, simple and of good taste, spoke anecdotes of the merry family living there.

As they entered the living room, a movement alarmed his senses, and in a quick motion InuYasha dove in just in time to grab the falling ornamental vase before it hit the ground. The responsible for the almost disaster meowed and jumped off the glass shelf, making a point of stepping on InuYasha with indifference to then greet the others.

“You must be Buyo.”

“Nice catch!” Congratulated Sota.

“Oh, my! Thank you, InuYasha. This vase is very dear to me.” He handed her the adornment, which was immediately restored the its rightful spot. “Kagome, why don’t you show your boyfriend around?”

Obediently, her daughter let go of the purring cat and played the role of guide, giving him a comprehensive tour through her former home. Truth to her word, she saved the best for last.

“Before we get in, I want you to remember I was young and didn’t know any better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He established, gesturing for her to rush and turn the knob.

Her bedroom was a gleeful explosion of pink and purple. From the roof to the floor, most of the surfaces were bathed in different shades of the combination. Sheets. Teddy bears. Carpet. Alarm clock. Curtains. Posters that could now pass for vintage. InuYasha was impressed. Despite all reason, the aesthetic actually worked.

He barked a laugh.

“What did you have against the other colors?”

“Shut up, I was five!”

InuYasha ignored her in favor of snooping around. Objects that dared not to stick with the pink or purple agenda were inevitably highlighted by it. He went after those first.

“So many CDs!” InuYasha contemplated, inspecting her collection attentively. Music was a passion they shared. Even though she was a pop kind of girl and he fell more into the rock line, they had been able to find common ground, eventually. Like Rihanna. Or The Beatles. “Are you kidding me?”

Kagome acknowledged his raised brows and the copy of a NSYNC album he was holding with a giggle.

“I stand by it.”

Books also filled the room. For starts, there was the Biology ones, piled up on her writing desk in a greater amount than what could be considered healthy — and more worn out than the math editions. On the main bookcase, he ran his claws through the good stuff. Jane Austen. J.K. Rowling. Stephen King. He wasn’t much of a reader, himself. His relationship with literature came down to the bedtime stories her mom lulled him to sleep with and A Song of Ice and Fire, which Kagome was currently reading because of him, albeit they had binged Game Of Thrones together.

Among her personal, reduced library, there was one book that gave the impression not to belong. It was larger, made of aged, tawny leather and no inscription was printed on the spine. Curious, InuYasha pulled it out, discovering the item to be a photo album. He pointed to its cover.

“Can I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She paid no attention to him as he sat on her bed and cautiously flipped through the pages, too lost in her own nostalgia.

The compilation began at a hospital room. A younger Mrs. Higurashi exhibited a teary smile to the chubby newborn nestled against her chest, the arms of an equally jubilant man involved them in a hug. Mr. Higurashi had elongated traits that narrowed his chin and pronounced nose in a gentle manner, like time had purposefully left his boyish attributes untouched. He resembled Sota. In everything except his wavy, dark hair. InuYasha grinned. Kagome had her father’s hair.

The photograph below showed three pair of legs, lazily lying on white sheets. A woman, a man and between them a baby, the size difference contributing to make the latter even cuter. Next to that, a picture of baby Kagome old enough to sit up, dressing onesie pajamas and chewing on a pacifier. Her grandfather appeared every now and then, feeding her porridge, kissing her tiny palm, exasperated at the paint mess she had done on the hall.

InuYasha watched her grow up the deeper he advanced. From crawling to standing behind Mrs. Higurashi, wrapping her little arms around the long skirt of her mother as she did the dishes. From that, to climbing onto a chair to help her father with the baking, covered in flour in front of the kitchen table while he proudly cleaned her up. Picnics. Beach trips. Birthdays. Every milestone was documented. After her first day at school — a big red ribbon on her hair —, new characters came to scene. Miroku, by her side on the backyard, one of his teeth missing and autumn leaves sticking to the two of them everywhere, twin wide smiles on their lips. Buyo, only a kitten napping on her lap as they sat on a tyre swing. She was wearing a beautiful dress and sneakers, her feet inches away from the ground.

There was a significant passage of time when InuYasha turned to another page. He knew it because, abruptly, Sota was there too, even though Mrs. Higurashi had been pregnant just a few images ago. The subtitle read Kagome, giving her baby brother a bath. In reality, she had used shampoo to pin all of his hair up. Her growth was perceptible as well.

There were no pictures of Mr. Higurashi anymore.

Instead, Sota, Miroku and some other friends conquered a little more of space, as Kagome got closer and closer to become the woman InuYasha came to know. The final picture was of her high school gang. Ayumi, Eri, Yuka.

And Hojo.

She had dated him back then and they were friends to this day. Naturally. Because Kagome was fundamentally a good person. And the fucker was unabashedly still into her.

The worst thing was, he couldn’t even bring himself to resent the guy. As a matter of fact, the hanyou pitied him. If InuYasha was in his shoes, he doubt he could ever move on from Kagome. Be that as it may, he much would have preferred they had held a grudge, blocked each other on social media and called it quits. Like normal people did.

Kagome was staring out the window by the time InuYasha shut the album and returned it to its shelf. He let his face fall into the curve of her shoulder — a flawless fit — in the process of embracing her waist. She leaned her head to him, her fingertips caressing his forearms.

Out of respect, they had left the door open, but it was just for show. His keen senses ensured they could get away with innocent displays of affection without having to worry about unexpected interruptions.

“What are we lookin’ at?”

“The Goshinboku.” The view of her bedroom was composed by a stunning garden, a mighty tree standing tall in the center of it. “When I was a little girl, there was a tyre swing attached to it. My dad built it for me. And grandpa almost had a heart attack because the tree is supposed to be sacred.”

The fresh memory came rushing back, of a lovely girl, her sleeping cat and a tyre swing.

“He sounds like a good man.” InuYasha let it out, mentally kicking himself at the same time. Don’t bring up her father, remembered his inner voice, a second too late. Damn it, he thought, I was doing so well. But they were alone. And Kagome was the one to raise the subject.

“The best.” She agreed, the longing painfully distinguishable in her timbre. “The colors are his fault, actually. He let me pick them and insisted I’d help him painting, saying it was my room and therefore I should be an active part of its making in order to truly look my own. I felt like such a grown up, with that brush in my hand! It wasn’t until years later I realized he had done most of the heavy work, of course. My enthusiasm about the colors decreased with time, I gotta admit. But I never wanted to change it, because whenever I see them, I’m taken back to that day.”

InuYasha was at a loss for words.

In one night, Kagome had shared more about her father than she had in their entire relationship, the topic always a delicate one.

To measure her pain, he tried to imagine what would be like. His life without Toga Taisho in every step of the way, with his goofy jokes and thunderous laughter, teaching him how to shave, talking about girls, buying him his first pair of boxing gloves. Cheering him on. Most fathers wouldn’t be as supportive of his career choice. Especially when it meant stepping down from the family empire.

Unthinkable.

InuYasha couldn’t even began to understand.

Unexpectedly, he was assaulted by the crushing need to hug his old man.

“He’d be proud of ya. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Kagome sighed. She was at the verge of crying, he could tell. “I wish he had met you.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“So...” Kagome bravely pushed her sorrow underneath, recovering the cheerful temper that was so typical of her. “Did you find anything good in that photo album?”

“Oh, yeah!” InuYasha nodded, taking her unsaid ask for distraction for what it was. “Miroku won’t hear the end of it.” She laughed and he relaxed at the sound. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. Your grandfather is getting distraught.”

“How did you do that?” Sota watched the TV screen in awe as their characters fought. InuYasha had just released a powerful blow, inflecting several damage on his opponent.

“Left-Right-B-B.”

Sota pressed the combination and as soon as he did, his character recreated the attack, hitting InuYasha back full force. The kid learned fast.

“Sweet! You gotta teach me more of this stuff! Can I come over to your place sometime?”

“Sure!” He answered, in autopilot. Kagome quietly pinched him in the tigh and the half demon realized his mistake. Don’t mention we live together. What an idiot he was. InuYasha wouldn’t have to mention anything if her brother saw it with his own eyes. “I-I mean, if that’s cool with your mom. It ain’t a quick drive.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah, just… Text me first.”

“You got it!”

InuYasha shrugged apologetically to his frustrated girlfriend. It was the best he could do.

“Kagome?” Mrs. Higurashi swiftly called from the kitchen. “Can you help me with the desserts, please?”

“Coming!”

Involuntarily, his ears twitched to follow her trail of noises. Steps. Crockery getting handled. Whispers.

“Alright: your honest opinion. Go!”

“Oh, I think your opinion is the one that counts.”

“It’s the one that counts the most. It’s not the only one that counts.”

“In that case, I must say you make a lovely couple. InuYasha caused an excellent impression on me. The way he looks at you… Your father used to look at me just like that.”

“Mama!”

There was a pause.

Out of habit, InuYasha kept hitting the right buttons, but his interest was far away from the game.

“Now, what else are you wanting to tell me?”

“How did you know?”

“A mother always does. What is it?”

“InuYasha and I… We’re living together.”

“I had my suspicions.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Are you happy?”

“The happiest.”

“Well, then. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Thank you! I love you so much!”

“I love you too, honey. But it might be wise not to let your grandfather know for now.”

“I figured as much.”

“One more thing.”

“Shoot!”

“Are the two of you using protection?”

“Mom!”

“What? It’s a fair concern.”

InuYasha had darkened multiple shades of embarrassment, all of them red. Sota took advantage of his temporary stupefied state to deliver the final blast, settling their score.

“Yes!”

“I totally let you win.”

“You wish!”

The two women walked into the room, dessert glasses on their hands. Sota accepted the one his mother offered him while Kagome sat on her previous spot by InuYasha.

“This candy is a family recipe.” Mrs. Higurashi explained. “It’s also the reason why we didn’t order a dessert at the restaurant.”

InuYasha hadn’t complained. In terms of food, sugary snacks were hardly his favorites. He opened his mouth, planning to decline the treat in way that wasn’t too rude, but his girlfriend beat him to the punch and sticked a spoon full of the stuff inside his mouth. The flavor outburst on his tongue was unprecedented, caramel being the base of it. The kickoff was undeniably sweet, pursued by a salty ending that assured a refined balance.

“Holy f… ork.” Don’t swear. At least this time he managed to caught himself before the failure.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Said Mrs. Higurashi, as InuYasha grabbed his portion from Kagome’s grasp and ate the whole thing in eager spoonfuls.

“How come you never made me one of those?” He threw Kagome an accusatory glance.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think our relationship is that solid yet.”

InuYasha was formulating a sly remark when he heard her grandfather struggling to carry a heavy wood box.

“Sir, wanna some help?” He volunteered, already jumping to the rescue.

“I’m old, not invalid.”

“It wasn’t my intention to suges—”

“Grandpa, please don’t be dramatic.” Intervened Kagome. “We don’t want a broken hip, do we?”

Grudgingly, the elder turned his burden over to InuYasha, who followed him out into the storehouse. He was serenaded by the crickets and the constant instructions of the wrinkle bag, urging him to be careful.

“Where do you want this, sir?”

“There.” He pointed to the left corner of the room and InuYasha accomplished the task without breaking a sweat. Or a priceless relic. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” The temptation to spin on his heels and exit the building was tremendous. For Kagome, though, he had to make an effort. “I guess is safe to say you don’t like me or my tattoos very much. That’s alright, I get it. You just met me. But I promise you, sir, I would never, ever, do anything to hurt your granddaughter. I’m a hundred percent committed to Kagome. In fact…” InuYasha fished the ring off his back pocket and presented it to him. “I intend to propose to her in a near future. You don’t have to answer right now, just know it would mean a lot to her… To us, if you could give us your blessing.”

The man glared at the ring as if it was a viper ready to strike.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship of yours was that serious.”

“Well… It kinda is. I… I love her.”

InuYasha felt naked, so very naked, under the somber gaze of that man. However true his words were, he wasn’t the type to pour his heart out, let alone to someone he had met for less than the duration of a night. Vulnerability was something to be avoided. Let your guard open, you get knocked down. A lifetime of boxing will teach you that. Still, Kagome was worth way more than his stupid pride.

“I see. In that case, you must end it at once.”

“What?”

“I held my peace because I was convinced, the moment my granddaughter introduced you as her boyfriend, that this was bound to break. Do not take it personally. I can’t possibly be the first one to point it out and chances are I won’t be the last. You are far from the man I imagined her future husband to be. Yet here you are, speaking of marriage. It is up to me, then, to open your eyes and remind you the implications of it.”

“The implications of it.” The hanyou half repeated, half questioned. The superior tone in which the man expressed himself was enerving and the fact InuYasha had no idea of where he was trying to get only worsened the tension.

“Your mother is human, is she not?” All of the pieces fell into place right then. He would rather they hadn’t.

“Yes, she is.”

“Then you better than anyone must know of the hardships she had to endure as a result of her lifestyle.”

InuYasha was numb. Completely anesthetized. It was to be expected his stupor would soft the pain of the bad memories. It didn’t.

Romeo and Juliet got nothing on his parents. His mom had told him the story time and time again. They had met each other on a tropical storm. Her car died and of course he was there to help. She kept his coat. He kept her phone number on a piece of paper that accidentally was ruined by the rain. When their paths crossed again, he was a divorced father and she was engaged. They managed to get it right anyway. Timing was a comical thing. It never worked with rationality.

Both families were against it. Strongly against it. His mother was no longer welcomed in the house. They had burned to the ground any evidence she once belonged to that place. The only thing she took with her was the ring of her deceased mother that InuYasha now held inside his clenched fist. She wasn’t allowed in the Taisho mansion either, but it just meant his father wouldn’t set foot feet there as well.

There were grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins InuYasha didn’t have the chance to met. Because they didn’t want to. Other than from Sesshoumaru and his mom, that was it for him in the family section.

He used to resent it. When he caught a homesick Izayoi crying. When his father yelled at the management of some restaurant about their anti-human politics. When she was denied entrance because InuYasha was in her arms. When the family tree of the other kids in school was so much more complex than his. Fortunately, he came to terms with it. Family had little to do with blood.

“It wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t your father’s, either.” InuYasha heard him go on. “Regardless, this is the way things are. The way things have always been. And pretending otherwise is to believe in fairytales. You can not blame me for wishing a better fate upon Kagome.”

“Kagome is happy. I know she is!”

“For now. What would be of this so called happiness in the long run? Keep in mind Kagome is a priestess. What if this union causes her to lose her spiritual powers? Even if she doesn’t, a child born out of it would carry demon genes. It can not be avoided. It can affect their reiki greatly.”

“W-we haven’t talk—”

Kids. The subject was never discussed between them. It was not a secret Kagome wanted to have children. She should have children. Motherhood suited her. InuYasha, on the other hand, didn’t give the topic a lot of thought. He just accepted that, taking in consideration the lengths he was willing to go to make her happy, babies weren’t even that bad.

Now, his treacherous brain was plaguing him with the forbidden images. Another aged, tawny leather photo album, theirs to fulfill with pictures of a raven haired, golden eyed toddler. Kagome, pregnant with his child. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all.

“Listen close, boy. I take no pride in that, but when cancer took my son away… It tore this home apart. Kagome? She was the one to put it back together. It was an unfair burden, for someone so young to take. And it meant countless sacrifices from her part. My granddaughter had to grow up too fast too soon. She deserves the luck of an ease love. You seem like a decent man, tattoos aside. That is why, if you love Kagome the way you claim to do, you will let her go.”

“InuYasha!”

“Huh?”

“I’m talking to you!”

“I’m driving!” Even to himself, the excuse sounded weak. For fear Kagome would pick up on his bullshit, he opted for diplomacy. “Can you repeat what it was?”

“My family! Did you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re great.”

She could sniff it out his lies from miles away, one of her many infuriating talents. It was a good thing InuYasha wasn’t lying, then. Her mom and brother had won him over without even trying. Her grandfather was difficult, to say the least. But ultimately, he only had Kagome’s best interests at heart. How could InuYasha not hold someone like that in deep appreciation? They shared the same priorities, after all.

“I’m glad.” Kagome sticked a palm out of the window, to cut the chill night air. Not even that diverted his concentration from the road ahead, hands sweating at the tigh grip on the steering wheel. They let the silence set, until her profound exhale disturbed it. “Do you miss your motorbike?”

Before Kagome, a classic black Harley used to be the love of his life. He had saved every penny he ever gotten in order to get it. It was the first significant thing he had ever bought with his own money. Sadly, the maintenance was pretty expensive and by the time they started going on double dates with Miroku and Sango or Koga and Ayame, an average car proved to be the obvious, more practical choice. It had its advantages. Convenience. Economy. Illegal activities on the backseat. His mother was radiant, too. She had somehow convinced herself owning a motorcycle was a creative way of signing his own death certificate.

He didn’t regret it.

But he couldn’t chase the wind in a car. Kagome wouldn’t hold him for dear life in a car.

“Sometimes.”

“Me too. Maybe we can afford to buy it back, someday.” His stomach sank. There would be no ‘someday’. Not for them. “InuYasha?”

“Maybe.”

He turned the radio on and neither of them talked the whole way home.

Water was pouring down, warm and nice against his skin. InuYasha stood under the shower far more than the necessary. His hope was that if he stalled long enough, Kagome would be sleeping by the time he left the bathroom. It was an act of pure cowardice, but it was for the best. If she was awake, he would be tempted to take her one last time, and what kind of monster he’d be by the morning, when they would have to say goodbye?

Kagome was sitting on their bed, waiting for him with his AC/DC shirt on. InuYasha should have anticipated she wouldn’t be entirely oblivious to his internal turmoil. He hadn’t done the neatest job hiding it and she knew him like no one else.

“Alright, what is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Just who do you think you’re kidding?”

“Can we please do this tomorrow?”

“No! You’ve been acting strange since we left. I tried to give you space, but I won’t be able to sleep unless you put my mind at ease.”

From all the scenarios he had ran on his head of how this conversation would go, this was without a doubt the worst one. He didn’t want to end their relationship in the middle of the night, dressed only on his sweatpants, risking her to storm off that late. He owed Kagome more than that. Massaging his temple, InuYasha realized his hands were tied. She wouldn’t let it die. He sat by her side and ripped off the band-aid.

“We should break up.”

Her reaction to the news was a mystery InuYasha wasn’t dying to find out. She could cry, she used to do it for less and his ego would appreciate it. She could scream at him, it was totally understandable. She could slap his face, he probably deserved it. She could leave. He wouldn’t blame her.

“No.” Plain and simple.

Whatever he expected her to do, that wasn’t it.

“No?”

“That’s right.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“We’re breaking up!”

“No, we’re not. Are you in love with someone else?”

“Well... No.”

“Have you stopped loving me?”

“That’s… That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m bad for you, Kagome! Can’t you see that?” His ferocity made her quiver and cursing himself, InuYasha counted two heavy breaths to try and tone it down. “Can’t you see everything you’ll miss out just to be by my side? I can’t do that to you. I won’t. What we have… It can be easy here, but in the real world...”

“Did my grandfather put you up to this?”

His startle gave him away. It was pointless to deny.

“He only said what we already knew and were too stubborn to accept.”

“How dare he?!”

“He’s right, y’know? This is the best thing for you.”

“How dare you?” She poked his naked chest, her fury unleashed like InuYasha hadn’t seen in a while. “Who are you to make this decision for me?”

“I’m someone who saw his mother be casted out and humiliated on a daily basis over it!”

“Have you ever asked her if she would do it again? Because I’m pretty sure I know the answer. And mine is the same.”

“What about children? You wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not they would inherit your spiritual powers if you had ‘em with a human.”

“I don’t care about the stupid bloodline tradition! It’s not like demons and humans are at war anymore. Any child we might have will be loved, powers or not powers. I refuse to let outdated morals dictate how I live my life, I refuse to let them get in the way of my happiness. And I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through you would give up of me that easy.”

“Easy?” InuYasha hissed. Kagome didn’t back down one bit at his rompant. “You think this is easy for me? This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do and if it’s possible you’re making it even harder. For once in my life I’m being selfless. For once in my life I’m putting someone else first. Because I fucking love you!”

Finally, finally, her lips crushed into his. It was a long time coming, as if every single event since he had seen her in that blue dress earlier were building up to that moment. He welcomed her touch like was second nature, greedly pulling her close to devour her lips. The taste of mint toothpaste flooded his senses and suddenly the whole universe shrunk to the shape her mouth. Her slow hands went from his cheeks to his wet hair, tangling on the messy strands and inducing the nape ones to rise up.

Only then InuYasha understood.

He was fooling himself.

Selfish. His love for her always was and always would be selfish. He could try to stay away, he could try to shut her out. In the end of the day, all she had to do was snap her fingers and he would be running to her. There was no escaping it. She wanted him, he was hers.

Little by little, InuYasha broke the kiss, their foreheads still connected as their hearts restored their normal pace.

“I don’t want to make things difficult between you and your family.”

“I’m sorry about tonight, InuYasha. I was so excited with the idea of you and my family getting along, I forgot to be more careful and pushed it too far with grandpa. Let’s give it time, okay? He’ll come around. If he doesn’t, you are not the one making things difficult. He is. People tend to be afraid of what they don’t know. It doesn’t matter. It’s not theirs to know, it’s ours. And we shouldn’t allow their opinions to interfere. No prejudiced beliefs can take me from your side. As long as you want me, there are no deal breakers. So what do you truly want?”

“What I truly want…” He got up and went to their wardrobe, reaching the depths of the drawer where he kept his jeans for the hidden ring. He found it and fell into one knee in front of her. “It’s to spend the rest of my life with you.” She gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes overflowed. “This might be crazy soon, but it has also been a crazy night. Kagome, will you—”

“Yes!”

She knocked him down in a hug that turned into another kiss, tender than the prior. They had time to pleasantries now. They had all the time in the world. InuYasha wanted to laugh at the expense of his unplanned rebellion. There he was, making the exact opposite thing her grandfather had ordered him to do. And he was still a bit unaware as to how.

“Will ya let me put this thing on your finger or what?” He questioned when she pulled away.

“In one condition.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t you ever break up with me again.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

A/N: this is for the brilliant @dyaz-stories who requested “The stakes are high. Tthe water's rough. But this love is ours” + “And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored. Cause my heart is yours” for the lyric game.

I hope you don’t mind the “my father” to “my grandfather”change, but I thought it was more fitting, given the circumstances. Sorry I made you the bad guy, grandpa, but someone had to be! Also, I know the lyrics say that the snide remarks about the tattoos would be ignored, but no matter how hard I tried to stand by it, Kagome refused to be silenced.

About the tattoos: I’ve read somewhere cherry blossoms mean female beauty, love, happiness, renovation and hope. They symbolize the end of winter and beginning of spring… which is pretty much everything Kagome represents to InuYasha.

That being said, happy Inukag Week! Yes, I do celebrate it as if it was a hollyday. No, I do not think I’m obsessed. I like this couple a normal amount. And this fanfic just happens to fit the prompt “acceptance” from day one, so here you go @inukag-week

#Inukag Week #Ours #Inukag Fanfiction #InuYasha #My Writing #Inukag Fluff #InuKag Angst #Sid Writes #Inukag Oneshot #Kagome Higurashi #Modern AU

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pjoseries · 4 years ago

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hi! congrats on reaching 600 followers!! i'm a brand new follower and i'd love to request ✨ a drabble for percabeth and soulmate (born with a tattoo of soulmate's last words) thank you and congrats again!

✨ soulmates are born with a tattoo of their soulmate's last words (ao3 link)

(***post-canon, major character death, some violence)

══════════════════

The ocean is quiet today. The waves skirt passed her ankles like it’s afraid to overwhelm her. It won’t. Nothing about the water can—too many memories steeped in sunlight, gold dripping through her hands until all that’s left are remnants of the shine she once experienced. She should try to thank Poseidon for taming the sea for the day, but she thinks he needs it too. He’s always been fond of Percy and despite knowing him for years, the death of his son will still weigh heavily on him.

Annabeth curls her knees up to her chest and she settles her head down, one hand drifting mindlessly through the sand. It takes her a minute to realize she was doodling Percy’s features, nothing really distinct. Just the sharp line of a jaw, the swoop of his hair, the curve of his smile. It hasn’t been long since the funeral, since she gripped Percy’s shroud in her hands and watched as everyone bowed their head and spoke a prayer when it caught flame, but she’s so scared of forgetting his face. She wipes away the sand on her bare calves, letting it stick to her even if the coarseness of it makes her itch under her skin.

She can’t help but remember the last time his funeral happened, years ago when they were both just teens, and Percy barged in on his shroud burning. Gods, the anger left as quickly as it appeared, too busy drowning in relief at the sight of him. She remembers those weeks after she left Percy to die on that mountain, remembers how she thought with a bitter tinge of regret that he wasn’t her soulmate, but he was her best friend and she lost him and it took everything in her not to break down because it was her fault.

Then he came back. But he’s not coming back this time. Not even if she begs the gods, travels down to Hades to bargain for his soul herself. She’s not Orpheus and he’s not Eurydice and they’re not a tragedy or some messed up story that can be solved with a few tricks and pretty words.

Percy’s dead.

He said the last words etched into the fabric of her skin. That’s more permanent than death.

His words ache on the side of her ribs, burning a little. It’s nothing she hasn’t dealt with before, so she just shifts quietly to ease the pain.

There’s a crash of a wave that’s louder in her ears and somebody sits next to her. She doesn’t turn her head from her view of the sea. Bits of sun peaks through the gray skies and it hits the water, bouncing the light back up to her own gaze. The ocean today is a few shades off from Percy’s eyes.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Poseidon says, something caught in his throat. Annabeth ignores it and nods in acknowledgement.

She coughs. “I’m sorry for yours too.”

They stay silent and the waves recede even more, not like when Percy does it. He restrains it so much when he’s emotional, it roars back at him, a perfect representation of his own thoughts. Today though, it’s not suppressed and bubbling and ready to strike out again. It’s just sad.

“He’s probably waiting in Elysium.” The for you is implied, but she hears it all the same.

“You knew?” she asks, spreading her legs out in front of her. She risks a glance at Poseidon and, fuck, it hurts so much to see Percy in him. She adds, almost casually if it’s not for her eyes stinging from the tears she’s holding back, “That we’re soulmates. Were soulmates.”

“It’s not a known fact, but we can sense soulmates. Not to the extent that Aphrodite does, but the stronger the bond, the more apparent it is.”

��How long have you known?”

“Oh, early on,” he says, giving her a gentle smile. “Perhaps when you were dancing back in Olympus. The first time, mind you.”

The laugh that leaves her chest is a little wobbly. She wipes her tears away swiftly. “I miss him. So much.”

“I do too.”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without him,” she says, her hands trembling. “He had so many years left, so many left—” with me. “A-and now I have to live without him? Stupid Seaweed Brain. He could’ve at least waited a few more damn years! Demigods don’t live long anyway, I’d probably get killed by some rogue monster.”

In a fit of childish anger, she throws some sand at the sea. It doesn’t help. She huffs out an exasperated breath and lays down, throwing an arm over her eyes. The sand tickles at her scalp and she can feel a lump of slimy seaweed near her arm.

Stupid seaweed.

Her chest shakes with silent sobs and Poseidon taps at her shoulder, giving her time to grieve. And she has time. All the time, without Percy.

Annabeth sends a prayer to Percy and thinks, I’ll see you later.

It must’ve been the wind, but she can almost hear a voice call back: Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Annabeth finds Percy in the crowd and jumps into his awaiting arms, ignoring any odd stares that’s sent her way. He lifts her up off her feet and twirls her around before kissing the tip of her nose. He grins widely, his dimple widening and she presses her lips to it.

“Missed you,” she says into his cheek.

“Missed you too, baby,” he says, then whispers, “How’s Olympus holding up?”

She rolls her eyes and threads her arm through Percy’s, gripping at his elbow as they start walking down to their apartment. “You’d think after fifteen years, they’d finally stop arguing about statute placements. Anyway, forget that. Who are we meeting today for dinner? Is it Demeter’s kids or Apollo’s?”

“Neither, it’s Nike’s kids today.”

Percy makes it a tradition to bring some of the kids out one day of the week to Sally’s for a wellness check-up and ask if they need a place to crash while some transition out of camp back into the world. Annabeth thinks it’s sweet that Percy’s such a caring camp counselor. She knows if someone ever did that for her back when she was a year-round camper, she’d cry. As much as she loves it (and she does, enough to share some of Percy’s camp duties when she has some free time during summer), it’s rather isolating.

While they’re walking, they hear the sound of metal and hissing and they take one look at each other before they run towards the alleyway.

It’s one of the kids, bruised up and bleeding, but her sword’s still up despite her whole arm shaking. The kid’s eyes catch Percy’s and her body relaxes slightly, but enough for the empousa on the far right to begin striking.

Percy quickly uncaps riptide and intercepts it. His movements are sure and steady, moving his body in front of the kid’s. Annabeth flicks her wrist and her knife comes down easily in her hand. She circles the next two empousi on the left and manages to kill one by surprise. Annabeth’s lucky she’s wearing a simple tee and jeans instead of her usual outfit whenever she goes up to Olympus. There’s way too many for one kid and her mind whirs with hundreds of possible answers as to why there’s a hoard near Sally’s apartment tonight. Despite her thoughts, she manages to gut another one while Percy’s fighting off two more and the kid another.

In what seems like a split second, the kid screams and Percy turns around and blocks the attack that would’ve gone through the kid’s heart. But as he does so, his back turns against the other two and Annabeth rushes to fight them off because, dammit, she should’ve had his back. In a panic, she throws her knife and it lodges into one of their heads, leaving her knife clattering on the ground surrounded by dust. But she’s too late. Gods, she’s too late.

Annabeth picks her knife back up, but the empousa tears a whole through Percy’s side, just as he kills the one targeting the kid. Annabeth yells, feral and wild, and slits the empousa’s throat, the last of their gurgling laugh dying as they turn to dust.

Percy slumps to the floor and Annabeth rushes to him. She pats at her pockets for her emergency stash of ambrosia, but they’re flat. She turns towards the kid, frantic, and orders, “Run back to Sally’s and grab the ambrosia.”

The kid’s eyes were flickering towards Percy’s stomach. Frightened. Annabeth doesn’t have the guts to admit that she’s frightened too. “Go.”

The kid runs and Annabeth’s attention is back to Percy who’s shivering. They have no water, no ambrosia, and they’re in the middle of a damn alleyway and he’s bleeding out so fast. Shit.

“Percy,” she says, trembling. “Can you move? We have to move, baby.”

“Can’t,” he grits out. He lets out a forced laugh. “Think my insides are gonna pop out.”

Annabeth’s vision is blurry and she can’t fucking see anything. She shudders in a breath and tries to gently hold Percy together. “Percy, please. Please, this can’t be how it ends. You’re supposed to be with me forever.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, baby. My—fuck, my forever isn’t that long. Glad I spent it with you.”

“We have to get out of here,” she mutters, leaning down and pressing her forehead to his. Her tears fall on his cheeks. She repeats, “We have to get out of here.”

There’s something unbearably sad in Percy’s gaze. The hand that’s not pressed to his stomach reaches up and tucks her hair back. It falls back down, too weak to hold itself up any longer. “Everything will be alright. It’s okay, Annabeth. Everything will be alright.”

She shakes her head and sobs.

Those are the words tattooed on her ribs. When she reaches up again to say more, Percy’s eyes were glazed and distant, staring up at the gloomy sky.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

When they find her, she’s still crying, holding her dead soulmate to her chest.

#percabeth fic #percabeth drabbles #percabeth #pjo #f: pjo #p: percabeth #misc: fr #my writing #*#je réponds #la poste #alyssa's 600 #frozen2s #tw character death #tw violence #yet again the tags fail me #fic: we can meet again somewhere

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kittydemon9000 · 4 years ago

Text

Soooooooooooooooo, for those that remember, there was a post a while back about how fanfiction writers, specifically for Ninjago, are basically members of the Cloud Kingdom. Well, my brain took that and ran.

I wrote this with permission from @boom-fanfic-a-latta, @fangirl-616, and @grungekitty-77(Mod Ivy from @ Blursed-Ninjago-Ideas) If any of you three want me to remove this fic at any time I will, no questions asked.

———————————

I looked around in confusion. One second I was writing, and the next, I was somehow standing on clouds in a weird tan robe.

“Hello?” I called out, looking around. “Is anyone out there?” There was no answer. I hesitantly stepped forward. My feet didn’t sink, so I kept walking. No use staying put.

“Could this be a dream?” I found myself filling the oppressive silence. I shook my head. “Probably not. I never dream. And when I do, it’s certainly not…..”

My voice trailed off as I looked around again. Usually, clouds made me feel at ease, but I could feel my panic rising with each second. There wasn’t anyone or anything as far as I could see.

“Positive! Stay positive.” I muttered to myself, walking a bit faster. “This is either a dream or a sick joke. After all, what are the chances I’m actually-”

My breath hitched as I tripped on a bit of cloud. I fell forward and landed face first in the…… "ground.” The soft and fluffy should’ve calmed me down, but it just made me angrier.

“-llo-” I heard the words. I shot up from the ground. “-ny one-”

The words were faint and barely audible, but they were there.

“HEY!” I yelled out, running in the direction of the voice. “I’M OVER HERE!”

“Hello?” a different voice called out this time, but it came from the same direction as the first one.

“I think they’re this way!” A third voice yelled.

I rounded a corner of cloud and crashed straight into another person. They let out an “oof!” as we collided and tumbled to the floor. Two more figures rounded the corner and narrowly avoided tripping over the pile of limbs we’d become.

“Ivy!” The person I recognized as the first voice spoke. They helped “Ivy” to their feet while the other one helped me.

The four of us stood in silence for a few seconds, none of us sure what to say. I took this moment to take a good look at them.

They were wearing the same non-description robes I was, as well as the same plain tan boots. But their faces were the most interesting, or rather the lack thereof.

Instead of a face, they each seemed to have a mask, but with no visible eyeholes. First had a strange brown flower looking one, second had a picture of a blue falcon, I think, while Ivy had one similar to an ivy vine.

The three seemed to share a “look,” or I guessed since, again, no face.

“So, who are you?” Second finally asked.

“I’m-“ I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice cut off. I was…..my name was….

I couldn’t remember.

I couldn’t remember my name.

In fact, now that I was thinking about it, I couldn’t remember much at all.

Everything but my stories were gone.

No faint whisper, no left behind shard, not even a loose thread.

Just, gone.

“Well, shit.” Ivy cursed aloud. “You too then.”

“I…” I shook my head, snapping myself out of my daze. “Wait, who are you? Where are we?!?”

“No clue, to both questions,” Ivy said, crossing their arms in what I guessed was frustration.

“All any of us remember is waking up here,” First said, letting out a sigh, kicking a small bit of cloud up. “At first I thought it was a dream, but now….”

“Not so much.” Second finished. “But, we might as well get introduced. I’m Falcon, flower mask is Mint, and ivy mask is Ivy.”

“Wait, what?" I questioned. "I mean, Ivy and Falcon make sense, but Mint?”

“Don’t think too hard about it. We needed something to call her, and Flower was too…..generic.” Ivy said.

“So, Snowflake, are you certain you don’t remember anything?” Mint asked.

I shook my head but froze. “Wait….Snowflake?”

“Your mask.” Ivy motioned to hers. I reached up to feel, but when I brushed my fingers, I could clearly feel my glasses, mouth, and nose.

“I don’t have a-”

“Another thing about this place.” Ivy cut off. “You can’t feel, see or remove your own mask. Annoying as hell, but we can’t do anything about it.”

“Well, I’m vetoing Snowflake,” I said, crossing my arms. “What’s my mask?”

“A snowflake,” Falcon answered.

“Hm.” I thought for a second. Snowdrift? Just Snow? Ice? No, none of those fit.

“How about Frost?” Mint suggested. I nodded thoughtfully.

“I like it.”

“Okay, now that that’s been handled, what now?” Ivy asked, look around as if something was going to appear.

“Well,” Mint started pacing. “So far we have three things we know. None of us remember anything before this, we have nonremovable masks that could possibly be hiding our identities, and the clouds we appear to be walking on are solid, so I doubt we are in any danger of falling, or at least in the immediate area. It’s possible this is a puzzle room where we have to find a way out, or we were sent here for a reason.”

“Wait, I do remember something,” I said aloud. Mint’s head snapped up in my direction and I could feel the other two’s gaze on me.

“Well, what is it?” Ivy asked. I rubbed my arm anxiously.

“Well…..I remember my stories.” I said.

“Your stories?” Falcon asked. I nodded.

“The little fantasies I made up in my head. I don’t remember making them, or what inspired them in the first place, but I remember them.”

The others were silent for a second before Falcon started nodding.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Same here,” Ivy added.

Mint nodded again. “Alright then, so we remember our stories. That could be important.

“I think we should look around. Try to find anything that could give us more information.” Mint continued. “And we should probably stay together. We don’t know how big this place is, or if we’re the only ones here.”

“Alright.” We all agreed and set off into the clouds. —————- It had been several days since we’d started. The only reason we knew was because of the watch I apparently had on my wrist that could track the time and date(November 10th). It wasn’t super fancy, but definitely sturdy and I found myself playing with the adjuster more often than not.

Falcon and Ivy didn’t have anything, but Mint had found a notepad and pen in her pocket. Which, she was quickly filling with the “rules” of this place. When I looked over her shoulder, I also saw a few quick doodles. Right now, she was writing down the new rule we’d figured out.

Rule 4: Time passes, but we don’t feel hungry, thirsty, tired, or need to go to the bathroom. There also doesn’t seem to be a “night”

On one hand, it was fortunate since we hadn’t found any food or water. But on the other, it made our walking much more boring. There wasn’t much we could talk about since, you know, amnesia. But, eventually, we’d started sharing our stories, which was fun.

Mint was starting to think this could be a sort of afterlife, which I was starting to believe. Nothing else made much sense.

At least, until we found the thing.

It looked like a giant bowl, one big enough for all four of us to sit in it with room to spare. There was also this weird podium next to it with writing. We could barely read it, but we were guessing it said “Dreams to Reality” which was strange, but nothing else really stood out.

Until Mint dropped her notebook in.

The bowl seemed to spark to life, filling up almost immediately with a strange gold and white liquid. Tiny golden sparkles hovered above the pool that twinkled and shone, adding to the pool’s ethereal look.

The podium glowed for a few seconds, new writing revealing itself.

“To the four who arrive in this place,” Falcon started reading. “If you are reading this, that means I’ve succeeded. The world as you used to know it is gone and has a chance to start again….”

We all quieted for a second, sharing an uneasy glance. What?

Ivy continued.

“I’ve created the place you see before you like a do-over. You four were chosen to reshape the world. With the power of the Creation Pool, you four and only you four will be able to create whatever you please.”

I leaned over and read the last bit.

“I have no way of preventing you from using this for evil, but I implore you to use it for good. As an incentive, as long as you create, you will be immortal. But be warned, should you not, your deaths will be imminent…..”

We all took a step back from the pool and sat down. That was…...a lot to take in.

“Sooooooo……” Mint started.

“So,” I responded. “What now?”

We all sat in silence. None of us had any ideas.

“I think we should do what the podium says,” I said. “I mean, there’s apparently nothing left but us and this place. I say we give it a shot.”

“But what if it’s a lie,” Ivy said. I shrugged.

“Then it’s a lie.” I countered. “I can’t see how we could be hurting anyone. We’d just be creating.”

“I’m with Ivy,” Falcon said. “We don’t know anything about what this is or where we are.”

“Mint?” I asked, turning my head. They were silent for a moment.

“Well…..” they started. “There are good points on both sides. So how about a compromise!”

“What kind of compromise?” Ivy wondered.

“Well, you heard the writing. If we don’t, we’ll die. So I say we keep it pure fantasy. If this is some kind of ploy against people, they wouldn’t be able to use, let’s say, merpeople or fairies. And, if this is real, we won’t be dooming the universe to remain empty and dead for the rest of eternity.”

We all sat in silence once again.

“I’ll take it,” I said. I looked to Falcon and Ivy, who seemed to be deep in thought.

“Alright.”

“Sure.”

“Great!” Mint responded, standing up. She ran to the podium. The rest of us quickly got up and crowded around the podium with her.

“What should we do first?” Falcon asked.

“Well, if we really are making a world, I think we should avoid technology for now. It wouldn’t make sense if we’re making a world from scratch.” I added.

“Good idea,” Falcon added. “And maybe we could make this starting world pretty black and white, like an obvious good and an obvious bad. It'll help us keep track.”

The pool glowed at our orders, and a small piece came up. Much to our awe, it flattened and grew until a table-like piece was in front of us. There was a craggy line going down the middle, separating the two sides.

“So, still keeping it simple, how about instead of good and evil, it’s creation and destruction? That way if they are real, it gives them chances to grow and expand, but still keeps it easy to tell the two apart. Besides, I don’t think it’s possible for someone to be 100% evil. There’s always a reason.” Mint added.

The map rippled again, this time two people stood on each side. One was the same gold and white as the map while the other was pitch black with hints of purple.

“But do they have to be human though? I mean, we’re making a new world, we might as well make it interesting.” Ivy added. The two figures lost their shape and became blobs, floating, and waiting for orders.

“What if the creation species was a dragon!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t remember what they were, but something about the word felt special and perfect. The others looked at me weird, clearly also not remembering what a dragon was.

The light one slowly took shape. It grew and changed, a long neck that went up the front and an even longer tail at the back. It had strong front and back legs with large talons with wicked sharp claws on the ends. A pair of long, straight horns came from its head as well as a pair of fangs protruding up from the lower jaw. On the back of its lizard-like body was a pair of massive, bat-like wings with small spines running down its spine.

It was perfect.

I was practically vibrating with excitement while Ivy let out a whistle and Falcon let out a quiet “wow.”

“Well, since we’ve figured out the creation beings, now what about the destruction ones?” Mint asked, turning our attention to the darker blob.

“Maybe some sort of spirit? Or a demon?” Ivy suggested.

“Oooooo, good idea,” Mint said. “Maybe an…..Oni?”

“What the hell is an Oni?” Ivy asked. Mint shrugged.

“I don’t know. The word just kinda….popped in my head I guess.”

This time, the dark blob started changing. At first, it looked like a human, but then it’s torso started growing. A second pair of arms grew from the extra space, and a pair of curved horns sprouted from its head. Its face grew wider and more muscular with a massive jaw and a terrifying pair of upward facing fangs. A tall staff appeared in its hands, looking a lot like someone had twisted vines together and frozen them in place.

With the newly named Oni and Dragon, the map glowed brightly. The four of us shielded our eyes from the light show, and when we looked back, the figures were gone.

“What happened?” Falcon asked. As if on command, the map rippled.

Tiny spires and cracks appeared with almost impossible levels of detail. Mountains rose and valleys were formed, along with the tiny forms of Oni and Dragon on far opposite ends of the map.

“Amazing.” We all whispered.

“What should we name it?” Mint asked. We thought again.

“Well, since it’s our first creation,” I started. “How about….

The First Realm

—Thousands of Years Later—

The ninja were frankly exhausted. Their meeting with the Cloud Kingdom had gone as well as expected, which wasn’t very. The journey up the Wailing Alps and going through the Blind Man’s Eye also hadn’t helped.

I mean, seriously, they’d protected the Sword of Sanctuary for years now, did they really think they couldn’t be trusted with it?

They were currently being led to a room where they could stay the night. Well, night in Ninjago. There wasn’t a night cycle in the Cloud Kingdom, which didn’t make much sense, but, different realm, different rules.

“Woah!” Jay exclaimed, breaking off from the group. “What’s this?”

The ninja cast a tired glance his way, only for their fatigue to be replaced by awe and wonder.

“Ah yes, that’s our shrine to the First Four.”

The shrine was a beautiful statue of four robed figures. The marble was beautifully carved, clearly done by a master sculptor, with accents of gold around certain parts. There was enough detail that the ninja could’ve sworn they were real people and not unliving stone. They were gathered close together, each one placing a hand on a scroll facing toward them, and on the scroll seemed to be a crest of sorts. It was a carving of a snowflake inside a flower with a pair of wings behind it and ivy wrapping around.

“The First Four? Who are they?” Zane asked, taking snapshots of the statue.

Their guide laughed. “Why, they are the creators of everything you see before you.”

“What, but I thought the First Spinjitzu Master-” Kai started but was cut off.

“The First Spinjitzu Master may have created Ninjago, but the First Four are the ones who created him. They created the First Realm, and were the first writers of fate.”

“So, are they gods or something?” Nya asked. The guide shook his head.

“Oh, no no no no, they were not. They were just as human as you and me. They did have a longer life span due to their hand in creation, but were by no means immortal, or even invincible.”

“So, what’s their story then?” Lloyd asked. The guide cleared his throat.

“As I said before, the First Four existed long before you and me. No one, not even them, knows why they were here. But then they found the Pool of Creation.”

“The Pool of what now?” Cole asked. The guide looked slightly peeved at the interruption but continued nonetheless.

“The golden pool you see before you. The First Four and only the First Four were able to use it to create the world as you know it. Once they did, they started writing fate. No one is quite sure how they did it, but their practices are how we are able to do what we do today.

“Once some of the first residents of Ninjago heard of a quartet who could control fate itself, many attempted to reach the Cloud Kingdom, but few succeeded. The ones who did make it, however, were greeted with open arms by the four. They took an oath that they would remain in the Cloud Kingdom and learn their ways, and eventually, they began writing fate alongside the First Four.

“But, even then, the First Four controlled the most important parts of fate. What wars would be fought and who would win, what species would rise in power and eventually, the fate of the world.”

“Wait, are you saying they wrote the Prophecy of the Green Ninja?!?” Lloyd demanded.

“Yes, they did. Unfortunately, that was their last contribution. Keep in mind, they’d been alive since before the beginning. They were tens of thousands of years old. It only made sense that they wanted to rest at last.”

A moment of silence blanketed over them.

The guide suddenly clapped his hands, slightly startling the ninja.

“Well, we’ve spent enough time here. I’m supposed to be taking you to your room. This way, this way.”

———————

Edit: ALSO, I drew the emblem because I thought it would look nice, you can find it here

#This was meant to be short #but it’s *checks word count* 3003 words #ninjago #cloud kingdom #self insert

25 notes · View notes

smutbymia · 5 years ago

Text

rule breaker (haechan bratty sub au)

WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ (no protection mentioned, sexual content)

Word Count: 6.4k 😯

Themes: femdom, friendship, fwb, switch, sub/dom themes, edging, replacement of the title Mistress with Princess*

Pairing: Haechan/Lee Dong-hyuck x Female Reader (ft. appearances from mark lee)

PLOT: Dong-hyuck, the hyperactive and silly class clown isn’t used to following directions -- inside or outside of the bedroom. After his friend (Y/N) goes through a sudden breakup, and the discovery of a pair of handcuffs leads him to the reasoning why, he finds himself in an interesting position. He may be in for more than he expects when she offers to show him just what it was that her ex couldn’t handle.

PS: Requests are open for fics and short blurbs

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You absentmindedly doodled in your notebook as your teacher taught the last lesson of the day. Graduation was quickly approaching and it was clear that most other students, yourself included, had mentally checked out.

The sun poured through the massive glass windows of the classroom, putting emphasis on the speckles of dust that danced through the air and even more emphasis on the boy in the row in front of you, one desk over, who glowed under its rays.

His tanned skin and bronze hair looked even more rich than they usually did at this time of the afternoon. With nothing else around to distract yourself with, you momentarily admired him. Lee Dong-hyuck. I mean, yes... he was certainly attractive -- but you’d hardly admit it to his face.

“Haechan, that’s enough,” murmured the teacher, in an exasperated tone. He called the student by the nickname most of his classmates used. The name he preferred.

The classroom was filled with a fit of giggles, coming from the students. You missed the joke. Not that you missed much. This was a typical occurrence. Hyuck was what most people would refer to as a class clown but not exactly in the traditional sense. He didn’t necessarily crack jokes, or aim for the approval of others through his form of “entertainment”. He was quick witted, and mouthy, and quite frankly a bit of an asshole but with a class this boring -- such things were greatly appreciated to lift the spirits of the students who were surely just watching the clock in hopes of the final bell ringing sooner rather than later.

Hyuck shot a quick apology back at the teacher. Mark lee, his best friend who also happened to be seated directly next to him at the desk right in front of you, pulled him into a headlock the second the teacher turned back towards the blackboard and began to ruffle his hair. The boys tried their hardest to quietly withhold their leftover laughter from whatever stupid comment was made earlier.

“Hyung, relax!” Hyuck jokingly began, “I know you’re used to having crazy hair, but that life isn’t for me!”. He smoothed out his hair as Mark flicked him -- a punishment for his slick comment.

“My hair isn’t crazy... its just a bit curly!” he said, trying his best to fix the dark ringlets that cascaded over his forehead.

You reached across your desk and softly pulled at one of his curls. “Don’t listen to him Mark, your curls are seriously too cute,” you whispered as you shot him a quick wink. His cheeks flushed pink and he responded with a shy smile and quick nod of his head in your direction.

Hyuck swivelled his head around, narrowing his eyes at Mark before turning to you with an expression you were far too familiar with. The boy pouted as he leaned his elbow back onto the empty desk next to you before fluttering his eyes as he rested his cheek in the palm of his hand.

“And what about me, Y/N?” he asked. As lovely as he looked, still glowing in the sunlight, you had no choice but to take him down a peg... but not before having some fun with the little flirt.

“Hmm...” you sighed, narrowing your gaze as though you were thinking deeply. You brushed your hand across his exposed cheek and leaned closer to his face. The smug look on his face disappeared with each inch you eliminated between the two of you. By the time your faces were directly in front of each other, he looked a little flustered.

You lowered your voice seductively before speaking. “I think...” you began, “you’re probably due for a haircut.” Mark chuckled under his breath after witnessing the exchange.

Just as you thought you’d won the battle, Hyuck quickly snapped back “But then you’d have nothing to pull on, Y/N”. With your faces still close together, he dropped his gaze to your lips before licking his own.

“Okay, gross...” murmured Mark, before turning his attention back to the teacher who was still aimlessly drawing formulas all over the chalkboard. Hyuck’s intense gaze shifted between your lips and your eyes before you decided to break the distance between the two of you.

“In your dreams, Dong-hyuck,” you said as you leaned back into your chair, sighing deeply and rolling your eyes. He furrowed his brows, annoyed at your refusal to call him by the name everyone else used.

“Actually, you usually call me Haechan when you’re screaming my name in my dreams...” he mumbled stubbornly before turning back around in his seat. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, completely impressed by how nonchalantly he admitted to fantasizing about you. Typical Hyuck.

The rest of the class passed by painfully slow. The final bell pretty much brought every student back from the dead as they jumped up, excited to start their weekends. You gathered your belongings to leave class with both Mark and Hyuck trailing behind you.

All three of you had gone to school together for years and were considered to be pretty decent friends. Mark and Hyuck were obviously extremely close, like brothers almost, and you were once a big part of their friendship as well until you all hit puberty and the dynamic seemed to shift. Hyuck got more flirty, Mark got a little more nervous, and the time you all spent together was limited to whatever classes you coincidentally shared and conversations at parties or in passing at school.

This was one of those moments. The three of you navigated your ways through the halls of your school as other students chattered amongst themselves about the parties happening that weekend, while emptying out their lockers for the day.

Hyuck and Mark were discussing some new album that had just been released when you reached the entrance of your school.

“Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend over there?” Hyuck asked, nudging your shoulder.

All three of you glanced up at a boy hanging by the bottom of the staircase, speaking with a group of students. His smile dropped from his face the second he looked up and met your gaze, replacing it with an expression of... fear, almost. He quickly wrapped up his conversation and turned in the opposite direction before walking off.

“Jeez, Y/N. What was that about?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, he looks terrified. What did you do to him?” Hyuck began, “and where do I sign up?” He chuckled at his own remark as Mark rolled his eyes.

The two boys turned to you waiting for a response but all they got was a shrug. This wasn’t anything new.

“Just another guy who thought he could handle me. The usual,” you stated, pulling out your phone from your pocket to scroll through the notifications.

Hyuck and Mark both stared at you wide-eyed, not quite sure what to make of your intentionally ambiguous statement. You gracefully pushed past them, disregarding the encounter with your ex, and continued walking down the stairs. The boys fell right into step behind you.

Your mom had sent you a message, reminding you that you were going to be alone for the weekend while she went away with her new boyfriend -- for the second time this month.

“Ugh, again?” you mumbled to yourself. Hyuck grabbed the phone out of your hand to read the message as mark peered over his shoulder.

“You’re so lucky you have us, you know. When’s the last time we camped out at your place anyway?” he said, tilting his head while racking his brain.

“7th grade” Mark responded, “You almost slipped off the roof when we climbed up through Y/N’s window.”

You all chuckled at the memory. You had almost forgotten just how close you all once were. The thought of being home alone for the second weekend in a row did sound boring.

Hyuck slung his arm around your shoulder as Mark fiddled with his cellphone next to the both of you as you walked your way through campus. The sun still broke through the few clouds left in the sky as students lounged around outdoors and others caught their busses home.

“You know what you need?” he began, “A real man like me. Someone who can protect you! Someone who can take control and --” the sound of Marks phone cut him off and quite frankly, you were thankful.

“Oh jeez, I totally forgot that I promised Jaemin I’d help him with something tonight. Is it cool if I meet up with you guys a little later? I’ll make it just before bed, I promise!” he said, as he walked backwards, nearly stumbling over his feet as he responded to the message before breaking off into a run back towards the school entrance.

You both shook your heads at his hasty exit. “Meet me in an hour?” Hyuck asked. You nodded in agreement before you both went your separate ways for the time being.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You were just about to step into the shower when there was a knock at your door. You descended the staircase and opened the door to Hyuck standing out front with an overnight bag in hand.

It may have been a while but he entered your home as if it was his own, kicking off his shoes in the same place your family did and climbing his way up the stairs back towards your bedroom, mumbling about some surprise party Mark and Jaemin were planning for Jeno’s birthday.

Once you got back to the room, Hyuck dropped his bag and flopped backwards into your bed. “Ah, I can’t believe you still have those,” he said, pointing at the glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling before pulling out his phone to take a picture that you were certain he’d send to mark. The three of you struggled to get those up there the last time they were over.

“I’m going to shower -- and before you ask, yes... without you,” you proclaimed. Hyuck, who had been ready to make that exact remark suddenly shut his mouth before nodding his head and returning his attention to his cellphone.

A few moments later you returned to the room, fresh out of the shower, in a pair of lounge shorts and a white tank top that sat just at your waist. However, Hyuck was no longer on your bed where you left him.

He had changed into some sweats but stood shirtless with his back facing you, his tanned skin and muscles emphasized by the setting sun that spilled the remainder of its golden orange light through your window. You really couldn’t help but take a brief moment to admire him. As you got closer to him, he turned around with a mischievous grin on his face. That admiration disappeared the second you realized why.

“You know... I was wondering where those marks on your bed frame came from,” he teased as he held a pair of black handcuffs in his hands.

“Did you SERIOUSLY go through my stuff?!” you yelled, marching across the room to retrieve the cuffs from him. He lifted them out of your reach and dangled them over your head.

Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as you jumped up, just now realizing how much taller than you he now was.

“Y/N, now I see why your ex is so scared of you!” he joked, “Wait.. HEY!”

You had jumped up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He instinctively held onto you to avoid the two of you toppling over. Your handcuffs were finally within your reach again. When the commotion settled, you realized you were still in his arms and pressed against his half naked body. As you began to lower yourself, you were met with the feeling of his erection.

“Okay, seriously? That quickly?” you questioned, as the bulge grew against your center. Hyuck slowly put you down with a sheepish grin on his face.

“Its not my fault you’re basically naked!” he retorted.

“Says you! Besides this is my room,” you countered, slapping his chest. He winced in pain as he rubbed the spot that was now plastered with a faint outline of your hand.

“Is this how rough you are during sex?” he said jokingly. You furrowed your brows, lips descending into a slight frown, suddenly self conscious about the statement. You weren’t exactly insecure about your kinks, but because they played a role in your recent breakup the topic was a bit sensitive.

He noticed the sudden change in your expression and sat himself on the edge of your bed before speaking again. “Hey, I was just kidding. This stuff seems hot, I just --” he began before you interrupted him.

“He freaked out and started acting weird, Hyuck. He acted like I was some sort of monster for even suggesting the type of sex I wanted to have. I mean, I get it’s not for everyone but he looks at me now like I’m crazy and we didn’t even try anything,” you confessed. It felt good to get the reasoning behind your breakup off your chest because you hadn’t had anyone to speak to about it yet.

He took the handcuffs from your hand before snapping them open. “Show me,” he demanded. You were taken aback by his sudden proclamation.

“With all due respect, I don’t think you’re the right candidate for this kind of stuff,” you said, laughing at the thought of Hyuck powerless. Your laugh faded when you watched as he attached himself to your headboard, now laying there with his hands above his head.

He looked... sexy. Your breathing increased slightly and your nipples hardened through your shirt. You were hoping Hyuck was too distracted by his positioning to notice but his eyes scanned right over your body the second you attempted to meet his gaze.

“Wow, you must be really into this stuff...” he said, not looking away from the rise and fall of your breasts and their protruding nipples. You were too caught off guard by the sudden change in your rooms atmosphere to speak. Instead, you crawled across the bed before unlocking the handcuffs, and freeing his arms.

“Wait, I thought you were going to...” he began.

“If you want to see what it’s like, you need to do exactly as I say,” you said in almost a whisper. He stared up at you, still laying on your bed with a surprised look on his face. Your tone had changed. He nodded, and you turned to get off the bed before rummaging through your closet for a box that Hyuck hadn’t yet found.

You placed it on the edge of your bed and he curiously peered towards it, ready for your demonstration. You weren’t exactly sure how far this would go. You weren’t even sure if you’d end up having sex but you were curious to see how Hyuck would feel about your preferences, and you valued his opinion.

“Stand up,” you demanded sternly. A smile danced across his face as he excitedly rushed off the bed. “Undress,” you continued.

“Wait, for real?” he almost yelled. It dawned on you that you were actually about to potentially cross a line between your demonstration and actual sex. You backtracked slightly.

“Um... just your pants. Keep your boxers on,” you answered. Hyuck’s face fell, clearly disappointed. He sighed and untied the waist band of his sweats before stepping out of them.

He instinctively stepped forward to tug at the strings on your shorts, assuming that you’d both be getting undressed. You grabbed his wrist in response, with your other hand gripping at his neck. He froze, taken aback by your quick movements.

“Did I say you could undress me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. Hyuck was momentarily flustered before his smile broke across his face once more.

“Wow, Y/N. I didn’t think you had it in you,” he laughed, as he freed his wrist from your grasp to rope his hands around your waist.

“First rule. You refer to me as princess,” you said, as you removed your hand from his neck and swatted his hand away from your waist. “And you seem to be having difficulty keeping your hands to yourself...” you began.

You returned to your closet to grab a belt -- the solution to your problem. “Can you blame me? Look at you... wait what are you getting that for?” he asked, noticing the leather belt you were carrying towards him.

“Your actions have consequences, baby. Hold out your hands,” you demanded. He narrowed his eyes at you in defiance, his mischievous smile returning. “I won’t ask you again. Hold out your hands Hyuck,” you repeated. This was already getting exhausting. You knew he’d be a handful but you didn’t expect it to start this early.

He finally complied, and you fastened the belt around his wrists, tugging at it to make sure that it was secure enough.

“Okay Y/N, what’s next?” he asked. The look on your face was telling. He knew almost instantly that he had made a mistake and was quick to correct himself, “I- I mean princess,” he stuttered.

“Good, you’re learning. On your knees,” you ordered. He dropped to his knees almost immediately. You sat down on the bed with Hyuck facing you, pausing to stroke his cheek as you examined his face. He looked so beautiful on his knees in front of you like that, even though it took him so long. You could feel yourself getting turned on again at the sight of him in yet another submissive position.

You took another moment to trail your eyes down his body, pausing at the large erection bulging out of his boxers. “Have you been turned on this entire time, baby?” you asked, still stroking his face. He nodded.

“Please use your words, Hyuck,” you urged.

“Yes, princess,” he said calmly.

“You’ve already given me such a hard time. You like breaking rules don’t you?” you asked him. You had leaned forward to meet him at eye level, your faces centimetres from one another. Your every breath danced against his lips, and his against yours.

“Yes, princess,” he admitted.

“If you break the rules, you’ll get punished. I won’t go easy on you, especially if you do it on purpose. Do you understand me?” you said, no gripping his face.

“Y-yes princess,” he stammered.

“Undress me,” you ordered. He began to lift himself off his knees before you reached out and pushed him back down towards the floor. A brief look of confusion crossed his face as he looked down at his bound hands.

“Use your teeth, baby,” you urged. You began by lifting one of your feet towards him. He peeled off your sock before doing the same on the other foot.

You helped him up to his feet and he proceeded to hook his teeth around one of the straps of your tank top, followed by the other. He struggled slightly but eventually pulled the top down the length of your body, leaving you topless.

He stared at your bare chest, nipples erect, and stepped closer to you with a look of hunger in his eyes. “Keep going,” you demanded. He seemed to snap out of his trance as he glanced back up to meet your gaze. There was a familiar look in his eyes. A look that always came before trouble.

Hyuck lowered himself to his knees as slowly as he possibly could, blowing air across your nipples, across your chest, and down your tummy. The sensation sent shivers down your body. You didn’t bother stopping him. It felt good. He’d be getting punished for it later anyway.

As he reached the waistband of your shorts, he untied them with his teeth before dragging them down the length of your legs, followed by your panties. When he was done, he peered up at your naked body.

“Fuck,” he murmured to himself. His gaze took in every inch of you. “You’re so beautiful, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at his statement. You sat back at the edge of the bed, and he instinctively returned to his position directly in front of you, like an obedient sub.

“Hyuck, listen. Before we continue, we need to establish a safe word. If you feel uncomfortable, say sunset and i’ll stop whatever i’m doing,” you said. “Yes, princess,” he responded almost immediately, “but i think i’ll be able to handle it.” He flashed a quick wink before running his eyes back over your body again, this time biting his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I’m serious. I’m not going to go easy on you. Especially since you’ve been such a brat so far,” you said. You slowly spread your legs then reached out and grabbed him by his hair before pulling him towards you.

Hyuck wasted no time diving towards your heat faster than you even directed him, mouth agape. You had to pull his head back before he could make contact with your skin, no matter how badly you wanted it.

“Don’t be so eager, baby. Wait for your directions,” you reminded him. You held him centimetres away from your slit by his hair. “Stick your tongue out for me,” you ordered. He quickly complied. You brought him closer to your center and the second he met your hot flesh, he licked the entire length of it.

You groaned in response at the sudden contact before forcing his head backward. You had to stay in control. No matter how good it felt.

“I- I didn’t tell you to move your tongue,” you stammered. Your breathing had increased and your chest was now quickly rising and falling.

“Stick your tongue out. I’m going to ride your face. And you aren’t going to move your tongue until I say you can. Do you understand, baby?” you asked, still out of breath.

Hyuck groaned, his erection desperately forcing itself against the fabric of his boxer briefs. “Yes, princess. I understand,” he responded, before resuming his position.

You brought his head back into position, once again moaning at the sudden contact. This time Hyuck followed his orders and remained still. You slowly began rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue.

“Oh, yes baby. Fuck... You’re doing so well,” you praised. Your other hand reached up to massage your breasts, still moving rhythmically against Hyuck’s face. He stared up at you, wide eyed, admiring the expressions of pleasure on your face. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world and it turned you on even more.

With one hand still wrapped in his hair, you applied more pressure to yourself feeling his tongue slip through your folds as you gyrated your hips faster. His nose brushed up against your clit with every stroke and the higher you raised your hips, the deeper his tongue dove into your entrance. You watched as your juices covered his chin, soaking the entire bottom half of his face.

“Dong-Hyuck... you- you look so pretty. Like an angel,” you began. It wasn’t like you to shower a sub with so much affection but you couldn’t help it this time. He groaned in response. The sensation increased your pleasure as his mouth vibrated.

“Do you want me to cum on your face like this?” you asked, getting closer to your orgasm. “I’m so close baby,” you moaned. He groaned once more in response sending the vibrations back through your body, this time shutting his eyes.

“Fuck me with your tongue. I need you to look me in the eyes while you do it,” you ordered. Hyuck followed your orders, meeting your gaze once more as he altered the angle of his tongue to better penetrate your hole. With your fingers intertwined in his hair, you forced his tongue in and out of yourself. Your free hand dropped from your chest as you began to draw circles on your clit.

You felt the tension building up inside you. You momentarily threw your head back, enjoying the stimulation -- beads of sweat dripping down the sides of your forehead. One last look at the boy between your legs was all it took to send you over the edge as you reached your climax. It was beyond any orgasm you had ever reached before. You could feel your legs shake as the rest of your body convulsed. Still savouring every last moment, you continued to jerk yourself over Hyuck’s face, body shivering at the overstimulation, before falling back onto your bed.

The room was filled with gasps from both you and Hyuck, as you attempted to slowed your heart rate and as he caught his breath. After a few minutes, you lifted yourself back up. Hyuck sat there still, gazing curiously at you. He was taken aback by your intense orgasm.

“Are you okay, Princess?” he quietly asked. You must have been laying there longer than you thought. You nodded. His face was still covered in your juices when you got up to grab a towel before kneeling down to him and wiping his chin.

He watched you, attempting to read your face while you cleaned him up. As you shifted your position to get closer to him your knee brushed against his erection. He winced in pain. The poor baby had been turned on for quite some time now and he shifted his thighs looking for some relief.

You discarded the towel before motioning for Hyuck to stand. Once he was back up on his feet again, you stripped him of his remaining piece of clothing.

His erection sprang free from his boxers, nearly hitting you in the face due to your proximity. This time, it was you who was on their knees in front of Hyuck. He looked down at you with an equally pained and eager expression on his face, waiting for your next move.

“Wow, Hyuck. I didn’t expect you to be this big,” you cooed, as you dragged your fingernails over his length. He shutter in response, moaning under his breath.

“Did it turn you on when I used your face like that?” you asked, gazing up at him seductively. He shifted his footing before responding.

“Yes princess, of course,” he said. He reached down, arms still bound by your leather belt, towards his cock. You stopped him immediately.

“You don’t get to touch yourself. And you don’t get to cum until I say you do, understood?” you ordered. Hyuck groaned in response, clearly frustrated at the predicament he was in.

Your hands circled around his base as you gripped him. He let out a deep moan and threw his head back, nearly losing his footing. He was so turned on, every touch seemed to numb his senses. You began slowly pumping up and down his length, watching his legs shake. A bead of pre-cum, escaped from his tip as his pleasure increased. Knowing it would push him over the edge, with a quick swipe of your tongue, you tasted him.

“Y/N... babe, please...” he whined. “I need to come,” he pleaded.

“You’re breaking a lot of rules, Hyuck. And you know what happens when you break rules right?” you warned.“I get punished,” he responded.

“So you do know better, after all,” you said, releasing him from your grip. He groaned at the loss of contact. Feeling defeated. You watched as he hung his head, eyes closed. You almost felt bad but you warned him that you wouldn’t go easy on him.

You motioned for him to lay on the bed and he did. You removed the belt from around his wrists, softly rubbing at the red marks it left behind. Hyuck looked exhausted.

You raised his arms up and fastened him back to the headboard with the handcuffs he had place himself in before. He complied without complaints. You crawled across the bed to retrieve a black silk blindfold from the box you had brought out earlier.

Hyuck peered over your shoulder, trying to spot the other objects inside but gave up quickly, overestimating the amount of energy he had left. His head feel back against the pillows on your bed as he awaited his fate.

You straddled him, with his erection pressing gently against your ass causing him to stir and groan beneath you. Once the blindfold was secure, you directed your attention back towards his erection, once again pumping at his length.

Hyuck’s body jerked in response to your touch as he raised his hips up, trying to thrust into your hand before you pushed him back into place. “Don’t be fussy. Hold still or else this will take longer than it needs to,” you warned.

He was breathing deeply now, as more beads of cum gathered at his tip. He was trying his best not to release himself but you could tell he was close. Covering his eyes had probably increased his senses, but it also seemed to calm him down a bit more. You made a mental note of it for next time.

You froze as you caught yourself absentmindedly thinking about having sex with Hyuck like this again. He groaned again, disappointed at the halt in your strokes. This had been the second or third time you had stopped.

You had been edging him all this time without realizing and you knew he was nearing his limit. You took the opportunity to lick along base of his cock all the way back up to the tip. He shivered and let out his loudest moan yet.

“F-fuck. P-please, do that again,” he pleaded. You sunk your mouth over the tip of his throbbing erection and his head fell back onto the pillow. He moaned your name as you slowly took every inch of him into your mouth, feeling the tip brush against your throat.

Hyuck muttered every curse word he knew, along with a couple of dirty phrases that you didn’t expect to hear. He even moaned your name, which should have warranted another punishment if it hadn’t sounded so fucking amazing falling from his parted lips. Still you couldn’t allow him to speak so freely.

You removed yourself from his length which generated yet another groan from Hyuck. You sat quietly by his side for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall and a single tear slide down one of his cheeks before picking up the discarded pair of panties he had taken off of you earlier and balling them up in your firsts.

“You’re too loud baby. I need to fix that. Open your mouth for me,” you cooed as you ran your free hand across his chest. Hyuck whimpered before opening up his mouth. You placed the undies inside carefully. This was it. This was the image you’d have imprinted in your mind forever. The image of Hyuck cuffed and blindfolded to your bed with your panties in his mouth. You couldn’t help but lower your hands to touch yourself. You slipped a finger into your entrance, quietly moaning.

It took Hyuck a moment to realize what you were doing. it wasn’t until the sounds of you fucking yourself increased that he let out a knowing moan and began pulling at the handcuffs.

Wetness seeped out of you when you straddled his hips, hovering over his erection. You positioned him at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. He let out a deep muffled growl in response and immediately started to thrust himself up into you, hitting your sweet spot.

“Oh my goodness, Hyuck...” you gasped, with each thrust. You shouldn’t have been letting him move so much. As each stroke became more frantic, you used every ounce of your will power to pull yourself off of him once more.

This time Hyuck protested even more. He yanked at the handcuffs, rattling the bed frame. You knew you were torturing him at this point. He still hadn’t used the safe word yet but you knew he was at his limit. You reached towards his blindfold first, removing it from his eyes. His eyelids where low but he still shifted his gaze to meet yours. You pulled the panties from his mouth and reached up to free him of his hand cuffs.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a quiet tone.

“Sunset,” you whispered. His face twisted in confusion.

“Huh? But I d-didn’t say it,” he responded.

“I know, baby, But I did. I can’t take it anymore,” you confessed.

“Can I?” his voice trailed off as he moved his hands towards you, hovering them over your skin asking for permission to touch you, as if the rules still applied. He was so well behaved -- the complete opposite from how he was when you first began. You nodded and he let out a sigh of relief as his hands traced the outline of your body, first moving up your arms before gliding over your breasts.

He delicately ran his fingers over your nipples and then back down your stomach again. He paused at your hips before snaking his hands around you to grip your ass, sighing as though he had been waiting his whole life to do so.

The pressure was building back up for you both. His erection still hadn’t disappeared and you were shocked he had held off for so long. You reached down as he watched you position yourself to sink down onto him once more before he stopped you.

“You’re not in charge anymore are you?” he asked, eyes going dark. His demeanour had changed but he still was taking heavy breaths, yearning for his own release.

“Technically...no,” you hesitantly responded.

“Good,” Hyuck stated, as he propped himself up on the bed. Within seconds he had repositioned you. Your arms were pressed against your bed frame, as you arched your back. He wanted you from behind. Hyuck wasn’t patient as he placed one of his arms next to yours to steady himself and the other around the base of his cock.

He thrusted into you, drawing a loud moan from your lips. He wrapped his free arm around you, applying pressure to the lower part of your stomach as he disappeared into you over and over again.

Your breasts bounced with every stroke. He pulled your hips towards himself, burying himself as deeply into you as he possibly could.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do this to you,” he groaned into your ear before capturing a lobe between his teeth. The sensation sent tingles down your spine. He proceeded to drop kisses down your neck, marking you, as you approached your orgasm. He quickened his pace, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room. You could feel him throbbing inside you, so incredibly close to his release.

“Fuck, i- I can’t hold it any longer!” he exclaimed. He reached his free hand down between your legs before rubbing circles onto your clit while thrusting into you.

“H-Haechan,” you moaned. It was the first time you had ever used his nickname and it was just enough to send him over the edge.

“Y/N.. baby.. fuck,” he stammered. Your orgasm coursed through you as you felt him fill your insides with his cum. His body went still for a second before he collapsed onto your back, heavily breathing and unable to hold up his own weight.

Haechan gasped for air as you moved from under him, laying him gently on the bed. Beads of sweat were scattered across his face. Before he could regain his composure, you slipped out of bed to clean yourself up. Minutes later, you returned in a new set of pyjamas and a few other items. Haechan’s eyes shot open as you ran a hot towel over his body, cleaning him up. He simply stared up at you, not moving or saying a word as you took care of him. You rubbed oil onto his wrists, massaging over the red indentations the belt and handcuffs left behind, before massaging his knees as well.

When you were done, you pulled him into your chest and bundled him up under your bedsheets. The two of you didn’t move for what felt like ages. After some time had passed, Haechan had slipped out of bed to put on a new change of clothes. You took the opportunity to grab some water and fruit from the kitchen before you both sat next to each other again, aimlessly chatting as you always did. Things had changed between you two. He brushed your hair out of your face as always, but this time his touches lingered more. He playfully licked the juices off your fingers as you fed him fruit, but still teased you as he typically would. He even stopped to sprinkle your face with kisses before capturing your lips with his own. Neither of you really knew what this meant for your relationship but that wasn’t a conversation that needed to happen now anyway.

As you giggled with each other, picking at what was left over the fruits, you both fell silent as you heard footsteps on your staircase.

Marks head popped into your doorway seconds later. “Hey, you idiots didn’t even lock the door, and what happened to your phones I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour!” he complained, dropping his bag next to Hyuck’s.

“Hyung!” Haechan proclaimed, still taken aback by Marks sudden entrance.

“Don’t hyung me, what the hell have you guys been --” marks voice trailed off as his eyes zeroed in on the headboard.

“Yo Y/N, what did you do to your bed... wait,” his voiced trailed off once more as his eyes dropped to the marks on Haechan’s wrists. He tried to cover them up with his sleeves but was too late.

“Holy shit, you let her use those handcuffs that you showed me on you? WAIT... What the fuck happened here?” he exclaimed, jumping off the bed in shock.

You and Haechan burst into a fit of laughter at Mark, who looked equally horrified and disgusted. His cheeks were blushing bright red, and the warmth had reached his ears too.

“You guys are gross, you know that...” he muttered, pulling the plate of fruits away from you both, trying his hardest not to touch the bed.

Moments later, Marks words registered in your head and soon enough you were pushing Haechan off of the bed and onto the floor to join his best friend.

“I can’t believe you sent him a picture of the handcuffs too! You idiot!” you yelled.

“It was BEFORE we used them!” he responded. The three of you laughed and bickered back and forth as the sun finally set.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

final words: wow this one was a bit tough to write. Haechan is a mischievous little thing in this fic and in real life too but I still couldn’t handle the thought of him suffering too much. He’ll always make me soft no matter what 🥺 also Mark was supposed to have a smaller part in this but he just fit so well I even had to put him in the opening gif! please leave your thoughts/comments or feel free to give any criticism so I can correct anything that may be insensitive/inaccurate in my fics. Thank you!

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