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rkived · 4 years ago

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year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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heejinnien · 4 years ago

Text

bts | roses chapter one

word count: 3.9k words

pairing: bts x reader

synopsis: y/n is a member of the seoul behavioral analysis unit. usually, she’s the cat in the typical game of cat and mouse played with the criminals they catch, but when a mysterious string of murders has her on edge, she discovers she’s caught the attention of one of a dangerous criminal — and he’s determined to make her pay for it.

or, not all attention is the good kind.

genre: horror, angst

warnings: yandere themes, descriptions of gore, descriptions of violence, murder, the reader carries a gun because they need to defend themself against bad guys, guns, manipulation, victim blaming, this is overall just a very dark fic

author’s note: this chapter takes place one month before the events of the prologue, and the prologue isn’t necessary to understand it. this chapter was originally 2k words before i did a deep edit. the “terms used throughout this fic” section of the masterlist was updated to include terms in this chapter. if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or dm, or just let me know your thoughts! i would be happy to explain things to you, and i would also love to hear your feedback or who you think is suspicious. as always, adhere to the warnings and do not read if any of those things trigger you.

roses masterlist

“Y/N! How have you been?”

The elevator doors open with a ding, revealing your best friend and coworker, Jungkook. He gives you a hug, squeezing you tightly. “I missed you so much, how was Busan?”

“It was great, Kook, thanks for asking.” Your lips quirk upwards as you smile at your best friend. “I’m ready to be back, though.”

“I’m ready for you to be back, too, Jimin has been insufferable with you gone. He keeps stealing my banana milk,” Jungkook whines, and you laugh, ruffling his hair playfully.

“Well, did you steal his jam? Again?”

Jungkook coughs, suddenly taking interest in the floor’s pattern, and you laugh. “I haven’t been gone that long and you’ve already managed to get yourself into trouble.”

“He started it — ”

“Y/N, Jungkook.”

Jungkook immediately ceases his accusation, and you both turn at the familiar sound of your team’s leader’s voice. Namjoon walks down the hallway towards you, air full of authority and pristine shoes echoing against the tile floor, giving you a nod in recognition. You recognize the grim set of his mouth and already know what he’s going to say.

“I’m sorry to cut the reunion short, but we have a case,” he says.

Silently, you and Jungkook follow your team’s leader to the briefing room. The rest of your team is already there — Hoseok gives you a friendly wave, Seokjin blows you a kiss, Jimin nods in your direction, Taehyung smiles, and Yoongi grunts, leaning back in his chair and looking as if he’ll fall asleep at any moment. As you and Jungkook take your seats, Namjoon turns and powers on the TV screen mounted in the room, pulling up an array of photographs. Three unfamiliar faces are positioned at the top of the screen, and photographs of the crime scene and what you assume are their bodies are displayed below.

“This is Soojin, Miyeon, and Soodam. Over the past month, Incheon police have been finding their bodies scattered in alleys cutting through the city. Soodam is the most recent victim and was found this morning, and that’s when the police contacted us. Yoongi has sent further details about the crime scenes to your tablets.”

You reach down for your bag, pulling out a thin, black device. Around you, your teammates do the same, and you power the device on, quickly bypassing the standard security protocol and pulling up the recent photographs. Instantly, the photographs of the crime scene make you reel back in a mixture of surprise and disgust. Although you are by now a decorated agent, the sheer brutality of each murder catches you off guard.

Stab wounds and lacerations cover each victim. Blood mats each victim’s skin, making their features almost unrecognizable, and a jagged, gaping incision at the neck immediately draws your attention. Each victim’s skin is ashy and waxen, and copious amounts of blood are spattered throughout each crime scene. Beside you, Yoongi, never one for gore, looks as sick as you feel.

“The coroner said that the cause of death for each victim was exsanguination,” Jimin says, reading the forensic report off his tablet. You quickly switch to that file, scanning through the official document.

“This definitely looks like overkill,” Jungkook adds, and his face is so calm and composed it is as if you are discussing the appearance of a floral arrangement. Looking around the table, the rest of your teammates’ faces are also indifferent. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve seen as much as you have, but the sheer brutality of this crime still makes you uneasy.

“It says the unsub has been leaving behind white roses at each crime site,” Jin, passively swiping through the crime scene photographs. “They look staged, each victim was posed so that they’re holding the rose.”

“White roses typically symbolize innocence and purity, while red ones symbolize love.” Taehyung ruminates. “Maybe the killer is trying to make some sort of point about his victims?”

“Like they’re cheaters?” You suggest. “This could have a double meaning, maybe he sees them as tainted or impure.”

“Whatever it is, it’s clear he has a preference.” Hoseok waves his hand idly. “Each of the victims had black hair and brown eyes.”

Namjoon nods at each member’s point, face thoughtful. “When we get there, we should break up into smaller units and examine each part of the profile. Y/N and Jungkook, head to the crime scene. The leading detective on the case will meet you there, see if he can tell you anything else. Taehyung, begin a geological profile, Hoseok and Jimin begin the unsub’s profile, and Jin and I will begin victimology. Yoongi, start checking into each victim’s lives, we need to see if they had any overlap or somehow knew each other at all.”

You and your teammates nod at your assignments, standing and gathering your things. Yoongi gives everyone a lazy smile before slipping out the door, heading back to his computer lab.

Namjoon continues. “The unsub will strike again soon so the Incheon police need us down there now. It’s a half-hour drive down there, so wheels up in twenty minutes.”

“Detective Jaehyun.”

You and Jungkook slam the doors of your car shut, gravel crunching underfoot as you greet the Incheon police’s head detective. You give him a courteous smile, you and Jungkook both giving his hand a quick, firm handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you, although I wish I could say it was under better circumstances.” You jerk your head in the direction of the alley. “What can you tell us about this victim?”

“Agent Y/N, Agent Jungkook.” Jaehyun nods at both of you before waving an arm in the direction of the crime scene. “A random passerby stumbled upon the body this morning.”

“What were they doing in this alley? It’s pretty remote,” Jungkook asks, boredly appraising the empty lot around you that the alley leads from. “You said they were coming from this direction, too, right?”

“The other end opens up along a busy shopping street, and if traffic is busy sometimes people will park here and use the alley to get there.”

“Are there any cameras?”

“Here? Unfortunately not.” Jaehyun’s face is grim. “We’ve been asking the city for months to get them repaired, but with everything happening an old parking lot isn’t on their priority list. They would rather keep making the main city look more modern and impressive because that’s where all the tourists go.”

You hum, noncommittal. You step in the direction of the alley, soaking in every detail of the scene. Although you saw photographs of it, you still don’t ever think you could ever be truly ready for the gravity of it to sink upon you.

Blood coats the walls like a mural, pools on the ground like a shimmering mirror. The blood staining the concrete and brick is dark, while the liquid pooled on the ground still appears bright, fresh.

“This is a lot of blood.” You observe dryly.

“Yes, well,” Jaehyun purses his lips. “Recent lab results show that most of the blood doesn’t actually belong to the victim.”

You pause, head snapping up to look at the detective. “That wasn’t in the report.”

Jaehyun swallows dryly. “We didn’t think to check for it in our first few victims.”

“Did you not run toxicology on them?” Jungkook asks, voice hard, and if possible Jaehyun looks nervous.

“We didn’t think to; the cause of death was obvious.”

Jungkook exhales, closing his eyes for one beat, two, and then opens them, fixing Jaehyun with a look that could send him two feet under. “The report you gave us said that there was a one week window between when each of the victim’s was reported missing and when they were found. That means they were most likely kidnapped and subdued during that time. There are abrasion marks on their wrists and ankles from when they were held captive, but no blunt force trauma to the head, which rules out the unsub launching a surprise attack on them when capturing them. Did you not think to investigate how they were taken?”

Jaehyun stutters, unintelligible, and Jungkook scoffs. Glancing at Jungkook, you speak to the detective, voice soft.

“It doesn’t matter now. What kind of additional blood was found?”

Jaehyun’s eyes flicker between you and Jungkook, and he swallows hard. “We aren't sure, but the coroner narrowed it down to animal’s blood. He thinks it might be lambs.”

You silently exchange glances with Jungkook, recognizing the familiar furrow of his brows that signals he’s deep in thought. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, the killer definitely knew their way around the streets here,” Jungkook theorizes. “The use of lamb’s blood was probably to add to the terror of whoever finds the body.”

You nod in agreement. “This is a city, so there aren’t many farms or areas to house animals here. So if the animals aren’t alive, then they’re probably dead and the next likely answer would be a butcher. We should ask Yoongi to see if any butchers or any businesses who deal with animals, alive or dead, reported anything suspicious.”

Jungkook nods and steps out of the alley, pulling out his phone. You watch him go for a moment before refocusing your attention on the alley.

“Um, Agent Y/N.”

Jaehyun shifts from foot to foot beside you, looking as though he’ll vomit. When he speaks again, it’s as if the words pain him. “There’s something else we didn’t mention.”

You allow a beat of silence to pass before raising an eyebrow, waiting for Jaehyun to continue. He clears his throat, once, twice, before continuing.

“We found a note next to the latest victim, along with the rose.” Jaehyun wordlessly pulls out his phone, seeming to struggle under your scrutinizing gaze as he searches for something before he holds the device out to you.

Displayed on it is a picture of the bloody rose that you had seen in official crime scene photos, a pair of hands wrapped around the stem. You recognize the photograph from the report sent to you, and you open your mouth to ask Jaehyun about it when you spot a small piece of cream-coloured stock, poking out of the hand.

Your eyes flicker up to Jaehyun. “Why didn’t you include this?”

Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know if you know much about us, but we’re a small force policing a huge city. If word of this got out, there would be panic — much more than there already is.”

“Lives are at stake here, Detective,” you say, voice firm but not unkindly. “You can’t play around with that.”

“I know,” Jaehyun says quickly, before sighing. “Listen, Agent. Both of our jobs are to keep the people safe. You may not agree with me or my decision, but this was the right call.”

You stare at Jaehyun wordlessly, scanning Jaehyun’s face to see if you can detect anything that will tell you what to say next when you hear a crunch of gravel and look to see your best friend approach. He scarcely saves Jaehyun a glance, focusing instead on you.

“Namjoon wants us back at the station,” he says. “The rest of the team is going to share their profiles with us.”

You nod, glancing at Jaehyun briefly before heading in the direction of your car. As you turn, you spot Jungkook staring at Jaehyun, expression unreadable, and then they are both out of your sight. You open the car door, sliding into the SUV’s passenger seat and waiting as Jungkook walks around the front of the vehicle, slipping into the driver’s seat.

“I don’t trust him,” he says simply, staring out the dash as you fasten your seatbelt and he starts the car.

“Jaehyun?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, humming as he pulls out of the parking lot. The tune is eerily beautiful, and it sends chills down your spine as Jungkook pulls onto the main avenue.

“That tune is beautiful,” you confess.

From his profile, you see Jungkook smile boyishly. “Thanks, I picked it up from Jimin while you were gone.”

“What song is it?”

Jungkook’s smile vanishes. “I don’t know, he never told me.”

For some reason, an uneasy air settles over the car. You wrack your brain, trying to figure out if it’s something you said, when Jungkook laughs and the tension dissipates.

“Do you remember that time you got a pair of chopsticks stuck up your nose?”

You let out a string of expletives as Jungkook laughs, the sound light and cheery, and Jungkook’s suspicious behavior is pushed to the back of your mind, already forgotten, as you two trade sarcastic comments.

With the conversation flowing smoothly, it doesn’t take long for you to arrive at the Incheon police station. You quickly hop out of the car, a sharp wind that wasn’t present earlier biting at your exposed flesh. A shiver wracks its way down your spine as you hurry to the station’s entrance, pushing open the doors, Jungkook close behind you.

Inside, Taehyung is the first to greet you, standing near a desk and flashing you a smile as he jerks his head in the direction of the back of the station. “Namjoon and the rest are in the back, I’m just picking up some files from the detectives here.”

Jungkook nods, heading in the direction Taehyung indicated and you move to follow him when Taehyung’s hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, grip gentle but firm.

“I need to talk to you.”

He glances over his shoulder and then tugs you after him, scarcely giving you time to follow his words and react.

“What is it, Taehyung?” You ask as he drags you down an empty hallway. He stays quiet, stopping outside of a door labelled “break room” and pushing it open. It’s deserted, the door swinging shut with a soft click behind you, and Taehyung turns to you, expression is inscrutable.

He opens his mouth, speaking so quickly in a low, furtive tone you strain to follow along with what he says. “I was doing some research into each of the victims. Before she went missing, Soojin had red hair, and Miyeon had brown. I couldn’t find anything on Soodam, but…”

“You’re assuming her hair was dyed, too?” You presume.

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you telling the rest of the team this?” You grab Taehyung’s wrist gently. “And I thought you were doing the geological profile.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask gently, recognizing the fervent, determined glint in Taehyung’s eyes.

“I am, I mean, I was. I was going to, I just…” Taehyung groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I was, but something about the victims was nagging me so I called Yoongi to see what he had.”

Taehyung fixes you with an unimpressed look. “You know why, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it earlier.”

You swallow, remaining pointedly silent. You had thought about the similarities between you and the victims earlier, but had pushed it aside as your paranoia, a hazard of your occupation.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?” Taehyung pleads, voice soft.

“I will be,” you promise. “We’ll catch this guy, don’t worry.”

Taehyung smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you can’t erase the sinking feeling in your gut.

“Detective Jaehyun, I just saw you a few hours ago.”

You release a pair of gloves, feeling the latex snap against your skin and give the Incheon detective a wry smile, flashes of blue and red lights illuminating his face. You and Jimin stand at the entrance of another alley, the lights of the police cars responding to the scene and flashlights from the other officers providing you your only source of luminance. “Who’s the latest victim?”

“Kim Jisoo,” Jaehyun says, holding up the police tape for you to enter the crime scene. You do so, Jimin following close behind you. “She was found by Kim Jennie, her roommate. She said she had just seen Jisoo this morning, and they often cut through this alley to get back to their apartment.”

You crouch by Jisoo’s body, nose wrinkling at the combination of death and copper that pervades your nostrils. Out of the corner of your eye you see Jimin cringe at the sight, and you can’t help but agree. Somehow, it looks more visceral, more horrifying in person.

Like the other victims, multiple stab wounds litter Jisoo’s body. Blood matts her hair and clothing, and a gaping, visceral hole is torn in her neck. Her hands are positioned so that they are resting on her stomach, a single rose clutched in between them. Your eyes seek out any hints of cream, but you find none and your eyes flicker up to Jaehyun.

He opens his mouth, hesitating. Ultimately he decides against whatever he was going to say next, staring at you wide eyed, and you gather the meaning perfectly well. There was also another note. You purse your lips, annoyance rippling through you.

Jimin reaches for the flower, gently tugging it from Jisoo’s grasp. “The flower is freshly cut,” he says, prodding carefully at one of the petals. “I’ll have the lab run the blood who or what it belongs to.”

“Most of the wounds on her body aren’t as deep as the previous victim’s.” You gesture to the victims’ body. “Maybe because she wasn’t kept as long as the others and the unsub couldn’t take his time.”

“That means the unsub is speeding up his attacks and most likely devolving,” Jimin says grimly.

“I’m willing to bet the victim was killed in this alley, the time frame was too short for the unsub to abduct her, transport her to wherever he kept the other victims, and dump the body.” You chew on your lip in thought. “Detective, are there any cameras nearby?”

“There are cameras positioned on the main street, but with the way they’re positioned none of them capture the alley’s entrance,” Jaehyun responds, grimacing.

“How many alleys aren’t covered by camera surveillance?” Jimin asks, handing the rose to a nearby officer to place in an evidence bag and standing, peeling off his gloves.

“I don’t know for sure, but I would say about fifty or so.”

Jimin swears, and Jaehyun flinches at the sound. “That’s fifty places the unsub could be heading next. This city is ripe with potential victims, too.”

“We should head back and let the rest of the team know,” you suggest to Jimin. He nods, and together you walk out of the alley. You pause by the entrance. “I’m going to get a ride back with Detective Jaehyun, there’s something I need to talk to him about.”

Jimin nods, unquestioning, and slips silently into the car. You stand, watching him drive away before turning to the detective. His appearance is ashen in the light, and you give him a dry smile.

“Well, Detective? Shall we?”

He nods stiffly, slipping into the police cruiser. You slide into the passenger seat as Jaehyun turns the key in the ignition, the car rumbling to life beneath you.

You waste no time, and as Jaehyun backs the car out you ask, “What did the notes say?”

“Agent Y/N — ”

“Listen,” you say forcefully, cutting the Incheon detective off. “I don’t agree with your reasoning, but I’m not going to fight you on it. But I need to know what those notes say.”

Jaehyun is silent. Finally, he sighs, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and, briefly pressing his finger against it, tossing you his phone with the other. “It’s in the gallery.”

You pull up the app, ready to chastise Jaehyun about why he has official evidence from a crime scene on his personal phone when you spot them.

It’s a basic photo, the cream paper the focus of the frame and resting on a desk, words typed on it in black ink. You swipe through them, quickly scanning the paper’s contents until you reach the most recent one. This photograph is different, blurry and dark, and you can tell it was taken at the crime scene you left moments ago.

“Do you see why I kept them hidden?” Jaehyun asks when you wordlessly hand his phone back to him.

“Let’s just say,” you begin, pausing to consider your words. “For your sake, I hope that your actions aren’t to blame for anymore deaths, Detective.”

You sit cross-legged on your hotel bed, idly scanning through case files and eating a carton of take-out jjangmyeon. Even though Incheon is not far from your residence in Seoul, Namjoon had still decided that the team would stay in a local hotel; in case anything happens, you can respond quickly.

Taehyung had shared his discovery about the victim’s hair with the team earlier, and you would have been blind to notice the glances that flickered between your teammates and the photographs of the victims and yourself. Luckily, Namjoon had chosen not to comment on it, instead instructing you all to focus on the results of your team’s earlier profiling.

Hoseok and Jimin reported their profile of the unsub (“upper twenties to early thirties, male”). Jin reported that he hadn’t found any overlap between the victims’ lives, and you and Jungkook reported what Jaehyun had told you about the animal blood. You had chewed on your lip earlier, unsure whether or not to tell your leader about the notes. Fortunately or unfortunately for you, that’s when Namjoon had received the call about the latest body, sending you and Jimin to check out the crime scene before you could say anything.

You pick up a photograph of Kim Jisoo, your latest victim. It is a recent picture of her and a group of her friends, given to the police by her roommate to help with the positive ID. In the picture, both are wearing a pleated uniform and holding up diplomas. Your heart wrenches as you realize that she was a recent college graduate and now will never have a chance to pursue her dreams. Another life cut short, just like that.

A heavy knock on your hotel room door causes you to jump, your hand knocking your noodle container aside. You curse, quickly scrambling for the napkins on the bedside table.

“One moment!” You say loudly, hoping whoever is knocking can hear you. You swear under your breath as you throw the napkins on your bedspread, moving aside the case files that were luckily spared and pressing down on them, hoping that can remove the dark stain that formed from the oily noodles. After a few frantic presses and a few noodles thrown off the bed, you rush to the door, hurrying to unlock it.

“Who is it?” You ask, sliding the lock open and pulling open the heavy door.

You are greeted with silence. The hallway is empty.

You frown, scanning the empty corridors for any sign of life but tacky, floral wallpaper is the only thing that greets you.

You glance down at the disjointed striped carpet and see a blank white envelope. Glancing down the hallway once more, you pick it up, retreating into your room and shutting the door behind you. You reach for your phone, tempted to text Jungkook about it, but you stop before you can press the call button, assuring yourself it is nothing. You plop in your desk chair, tearing the side and running your finger along the top of the envelope.

Peering inside, you are greeted with a plain piece of cream colored cardstock. Realization dawns on you and the stench of copper and rose wafts out of the letter as an image of Jaehyun’s phone flashes in front of your eyes.

You scream.

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rocketink · 4 years ago

Text

LOST AND FOUND

In which you lose your stuff all the time but your first-floor neighbour somehow always has it for you. Or, in a soulmate world, your soulmate finds everything you loses and reverse.

pairing: minghao x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, crack + neighbor & soulmate! Au

wc: 2.2k+

warnings: none I think (this type of soulamte thingy is kinda crazy tho). Btw this is my first au so I’m sorry fpr any mistakes!! + English is not my first language so apologies :)

notes: I migh turn this into a series since I’ve thought about some details here and there as I wrote this au?? What do you think??

The situation inside your apartment has turned unbearable, and you know should have moved with Joshua when you had the chance. He wasn't the closest of your friends, but you're sure it would have been more comfortable with him rather than third-wheeling your roommates.

Now, you don't hate Mingyu and your best friend, you just think they are disgustingly cute. You feel very happy since you've seen them pining after each other for a while now (all the furtive glances they sent to each other when they thought nobody was looking was like being inside a rom-com movie and it was hilarious at first. It eventually became too much to handle). You've never seen two more oblivious people inside a room, it was exasperating. Things began to turn serious when they discovered they were each other's soulmates and they've been seriously dating ever since.

It's great, really, but why do you have to see each of their displays of affection? Or, should we say, why doesn't the time to find your soulmate finally get to you?

Because you know, deep down inside you, that the problem is not that they have a soulmate. The problem is that you don't find it.

"Good morning, love." Mingyu greets your friend with his deep morning voice, and gives them a kiss on their temple. "Good morning, Y/n." He gives you a tiny hug and you growl.

"It's too early for being cute don't you think?" You ask joking-not-so-joking.

"Feeling grumpy at eight in the morning? Woah, breaking your own record." You laugh at what your friend says and they laugh too. You don't mind being like this, just why does it have to get so awkward sometimes?

"Guys another disgrace has happened." You announce solemnly. "I have lost my jacket"

"Again?" Mingyu judges.

"But didn't you wash it yesterday? It must be hanged with the rest of the clothes."

"I checked when I woke up because it's cold and it wasn't there."

"It was pretty windy last night, maybe it fell?" Your friend suggests and they grin. "Maybe Minghao will bring it back to you later?"

Ah, here we have the other reason why you want to move to a lost town somewhere in Australia: Xu Minghao, your first-floor neighbor, the one that has an apartment to envy because of his small, well-decorated courtyard. You don't envy that, though, because your clothesline is right on top of his courtyard, and sometimes he has to bring you all the clothing items that fall into his yard. You don't know how all that ends up there, you've tried everything: from securing your clothes with more pins to tying it to the clothesline. But none of that ever works, and he always goes all up to the third floor -where you live- to give it back to you with a smile and a 'see you soon'. How does he know it's your clothes? You made sure to tell him the first time this happened.

Just like your friend predicted, that afternoon Xu Minghao knocked at your door.

"Hello." He greets with a friendly smile and your heart melts.

He's too adorable to handle.

"Hi, Minghao. Don't bother I think I know why you're here." You joke at your own clumsiness and he laughs with you too.

"You must have been cold without it." He seems worried and you shake your head.

"Don't worry, two layers of blankets made up for it."

He puts his hands into his pockets and smiles shyly and you feel your heart bursting off. When he leaves, you notice your jacket smells like him.

Ah, how you wished Minghao was your soulmate.

Things get more complicated when the finals approach. You can barely stand even after drinking your daily coffee and you spend day after day coming and going from home to the library. You are so focused and stressed that you barely pay attention to anything else, and you've lost from pens to your entire case. All of them safely brought back home by Minghao. You do not know how or when you threw your case through the window for it to end up at Minghao's yard, but he always brings some hot chocolate and a small talk with him, so you do not complain.

After all, you don't even remember how you wake up every morning by the end of the day. You end up thinking you need to control yourself a little more during finals.

One day it gets out of hand. You've probably had the worst of the days. You woke up late because you didn't hear the alarm clock, your roommates being all lovey-dovey already got you on your nerves, your exam was harder than you expected and you had a bad feeling about your answers. Then, when you finally got home, late and tired, your keys were nowhere to be found. You could feel your eyes getting watery and you knocked at the door. Nobody answers, your friend and Mingyu are celebrating their anniversary and you don't want to bother them even if all you want is a hot shower and watching a romantic without friends to cuddle. You immediately think of Minghao, would it be too much if you asked him to spend some time with you? You answer to yourself that yes, it would be too much, there's no need to bother anyone else. So what do you do now?

"Y/n?" Somebody asks behind you.

"Minghao?" And there you have it, just the one you were thinking of.

"Hi, uhm, are you okay?" You want to cry to that question, but you manage to hold back your tears.

"I'm fine I just- I must have lost my keys because I can't find them and there's no one home and I just want to sleep." You explain briefly.

"Are these your keys?" He holds something in his left hand that looks like your keyring -a framed pink paper with your name on it and a little olaf your sister once bought you-

"How did you find it?"

"I didn't, it appeared in my yard". He is as confused as you are.

"But... I remember I put it inside the pocket of my bag." You explain. "When I arrived it was opened so I just supposed they fell out. And there's no way they fell into your yard because they are always inside my bag, I never threw them... Why would anyone throw a keyring through my window? I-" You try to explain without taking a breath so that Minghao doesn't think you're a weirdo, but now you can't fight back your tears and Minghao looks worried.

"It's okay Y/n, don't worry, I understand. Well, I don't, but I know you didn't do it. Hold on let's get inside I'll make you some hot chocolate and we can watch a movie, okay?"

You nod without thinking, just wanting to be lulled into some peace. He makes you some hot choco as promised and makes some small talk while choosing a movie to watch.

"So where are your roommates?" He asks.

"Celebrating their anniversary."

"Wait, are they dating?"

"Didn't you know?"

"No? I'm so shocked what the hell." You laugh at his astonished face. "But are they...?"

"Soulmates? Yes, they are."

"Woah, lucky."

"I know right." You don't want this topic to surface but you can't help but ask. "Have you met your soulmate?"

"I haven't." After a few seconds, he adds, "have you?"

"No, not a single clue of who they are. I don't have a timer or a tattoo, or see them in my dreams... I'm getting tired of waiting. Overall watching the two lovebirds every day of my life."

"It is the same thing for me. I'd love to meet them or just to know how they are. I know I'm young and all that but I'm just very curious and almost all my friends have met them while I still don’t know how to find them. I feel left out."

You nod, relating to that feeling.

"By the way, if it gets tiring, why don't you just move out?"

"I don't know where to move to be honest. I don't know if I want to go through the 'look for a new apartment' process again, it's too tiring. Besides, I still have fun with them, they're not to blame for my loneliness."

Minghao laughs and looks away.

"Just so you know, I'm moving out next month. I found another apartment for a better price and I'm going to leave the one I have now. If it gets too unbearable, you can just take my place." And you are too focused on yourself to notice the sad look on his face.

Because Minghao and your little encounters made your whole living in a student's apartment life better, and you don't want him to go away. But you are just a neighbor in Minghao's life, so who are you to tell him that?

Minghao moves the following month just as promised, and you can't remove the moping face you wear.

"Why are you so sad Y/n? I've seen the new neighbor, he is as hot as Minghao." Your friend winks and you roll your eyes.

"I don't care. If he doesn't pick up my stuff then I don't want him."

"I've heard he is all the time arguing with their other roommate. Maybe they leave sooner than expected and Minghao comes back!"

"Don't be mean, Gyu!" You nag and he shrugs.

Somebody's knocking at the door distracts you from your conversation and both of your friends turn to look at you.

"Why do I always have to get the door? There's no Minghao now, I don't want it."

"Maybe is your new blue prince"

"Shut up, Mingyu."

But when you open the door to a frowning Minghao, your heart backflips.

"What are you doing here Hao? Is everything okay?"

"I am a little concerned." He shows you a small necklace you recognize immediately. "What was this doing in my house?"

"I lost it last week at university! I didn't know where it went." You try to answer.

"To my room?"

"Look, I also don't know what was my necklace doing in your house in which I've never stepped a foot in because is like five kilometers away ... Oh my god Hao did you walk here?"

"I took the bus." He looks down and then right at you. "The last time I saw you you were wearing it. I've been thinking for a week how did this get there since I haven't seen you in a month, I never took it and I know for sure you are not a stalker who would leave their necklace inside my room when nobody’s looking."

"Have you reached any conclusion?"

"Absolutely none. Then I talked to Jun and he said some of the romantic trash he usually thinks of, but this made me think."

"What did he say?" You don't know what direction this conversation is taking.

"He's a soulmate expert you know? He told me that maybe it’s because destiny wants us to meet again and I thought that couldn't be because oh god, what have I done to deserve you? Then I decided to make a little experiment and I'm really nervous because if this doesn't work out I might have lost the most important thing to me. Do you mind checking your room?"

You feel everything inside you revolving because of every single one of his words, but still, you do as he requests. You check your room, ignoring the question marks over your roommate's heads, and find nothing different. Except for a new notebook on top of your nightstand you hadn't noticed. It's a sketchbook, and all of the drawings on the inside are signed with Minghao's name.

"Is this yours?" He sighs in relief when he recognizes the sketchbook.

"This is a part of my life, you know?"

"Then how did you lose this?"

"I told June to leave it somewhere I didn't know so that I couldn't even look for it. I wasn't sure if it was going to work."

"I can't believe the universe does works like this."

"Me neither, but I'm glad it did."

"So, you said this friend of yours is an expert in soulmates?" You don't want to ask it directly, but you want to know if he's implying that you two are soulmates.

"Yes, I used the s word." You both laugh.

"Does this mean that you and I... You know."

"Jun told me this type of soulmate is rare, but it has happened under easier circumstances. All I know is that I keep finding you every time and I don't know if I ever want to stop finding you."

"OH COME ON JUST KISS ALREADY." You hear Mingyu shouting from the kitchen. "Babe, now I know how Y/n felt with us."

You want to laugh at Mingyu and tell him 'Ha, suffer you loser', but Minghao has other plans.

When he kisses you everything just seems simple and suddenly everything is fine, and you don't want to stop doing it. It's warm, it feels as if you had lost and found the most important thing in your life.

"Hold on then why did I never find anything yours?"

"Y/n, you break the kiss just to ask this?" You blush and he sighs. "I'm a very organized person, unlike others, so I barely lose things, happy now?"

"No. Does this mean that if I get lost in a crowd would you magically find me? You know, since I got lost."

"I don't know Y/n, and I don't want to find out. Now come here, I want to cuddle."

"Oh, yes. Finally."

#seventeen #minghao #seventeen imagines #minghao imagines #seventeen fluff #the8 imagines #minghao fluff #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #seventeen au #minghao au #seventeen scenarios #minghao scenarios #seventeen fanfic #minghao fanfic #seventeen oneshot #minghao oneshot #seventeen drabble #minghao drabble

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eurydicees · 4 years ago

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top 10 ouran manga-only arcs

this is going to be such a long post i apologize in advance. the ranking system has absolutely no criteria other than "does this pass my vibe check.” bonus points were awarded if i could think about tamakyo while reading it; points were also awarded every time tamaki did something cool. this was a delight to make. anyways, without further ado, here are my personal top ten favorites, and no i will not be taking criticism.

1. THE TAMAKI EXTRAVAGANZA

(vol 16 chp 73 - vol 18 chp 80)

PLOT:

So much happens here that I couldn’t think of an actual name, and uh does it count as a single arc? Probably not, but I’m counting it as one because it has a single thread: Tamaki. My beloved. So. First, Tamaki finally, finally, finally moves into Suoh mansion #1, but when he gets there, he gets told that he’s only allowed to study the Suoh business and go to school and nothing else— meaning he has to quit the host club. Shizue threatens to out Haruhi as a girl and ruin her reputation— possibly losing her the scholarship— if Tamaki doesn’t break off all ties with her.

The Host Club disbands. Kyoya begins an Investigation™ into Tamaki’s mother— she had been incredibly weak and unhealthy when Tamaki was a child, but when Kyoya met her, she was pretty healthy. After some sleuthing, the hosts minus Tamaki discover that she probably had Bisco Hatori’s fictional version of lupus, which was cured by a mysterious foundation— which they discover was run by the Grantaine family, funded by the Suoh corporation, and actually researched by the Ootori conglomerate. Literally everyone is in on it. It’s fucking wild. Like. Huge “holy fucking shit I need to stop and take a breath” moment.

This information is suddenly released to the public, and then the Suoh corporation all vote Shizue out of her position, saying that she’s no longer fit for the job. She locks herself in her room and refuses to speak to anyone, breaking Tamaki’s heart. But now that she’s no longer top dog, Anne-Sophie can come to Japan— Yuzuru is super hyped and expects Tamaki to be as well, not understanding that Tamaki’s family fantasy includes his grandmother. Tamaki stops going to school and plays piano every day in order to cheer up the house, eventually luring Shizue out to listen to him play their shared favorite songs from J-dramas.

They begin to bond and Shizue sees that he’s not a failure because of his parentage, but it’s too late because Anne-Sophie is about to fly back to France. All is hopeless.

EXCEPT THEN. All of the hosts and all of the clients realize what’s happening and rush to help him get to his mother. They all adore him so much, and give their all into getting Tamaki to the airport. Shizue finally encourages him to go, realizing— with the help of Haruhi— that she has been bitter and selfish and Tamaki deserves better. They rush to the airport, and through a series of shenanigans that are no match for the combined power of the hosts and every single girl at Ouran, Tamaki makes it to the airport. They make it there JUST in time, and Tamaki gets a five minute reunion with his mother. Haruhi finally confesses to Tamaki that she loves him.

WHY I LOVE IT:

oh my God oh my God oh my GOD. Like. This is just. So much. So Much. We all know that I’m like. The #1 Fan of Tamaki Suoh. Like. President, vice president, treasurer, and secretary of the fan club, all at once. I love him so much, and this just gives him so much development. There is so much opportunity for him to grow and you not only really see who he is as a character, but you also see how much he’s grown as a person from his first introduction. You also get more of a glimpse into the world of Rich People, and the way that all of their families interact with each other, and then also with the way that they interact within their families. It’s just such an intense arc and it’s so beautiful and I love it so much.

2. THE SPORTS COMPETITION

(vol 10 chp 46 - vol 11 chp 49)

PLOT:

This one is HARD to rank, because I love it, but it also Hurts. Like. I genuinely cried over this one, though that’s not actually saying much because I cry at everything. So. Here’s what’s up. Tamaki gets into this idea of a sports festival, and then Kuze wanders in to fight Kyoya again, so Tamaki suggests a competition between the two of them. This is a very Tamaki thing to do, but Kyoya gets fed up with it and refuses to participate— until Kuze accuses him of being “Suoh’s pet” and that he’ll always let Tamaki win, and then Kyoya gets fired the fuck up.

But he’s still bitter at Tamaki for starting this, so the two of them stop talking and my heart breaks. This does not stop Tamaki from having heart eyes for Kyoya 24/7. Hikaru and Kaoru are assigned to competing teams, and begin their Very Long Journey into not being so codependent— Hikaru is on the red team with Tamaki, Haruhi, and Kuze; Kaoru is on the white team with Kyoya and Honey.

Essentially, each team goes through rounds of races in different areas that are like. Complete bullshit games, but whatever. It’s Rich People World. The white team gets ahead; the red team performs a scene from a Shakespeare show to rally their losing team together and begins to win, until they’re on even footing. The final race is between Kyoya and Tamaki.

There’s a heartbreaking series of panels of Tamaki just… thinking about Kyoya. I cannot get enough of it. Then there’s an even more heartbreaking series of panels of Kyoya just… thinking about Tamaki. You realize, alongside the other hosts, that Tamaki pushed for this race not really for benefit or fun, but to give Kyoya a chance to compete in something for real, without having to set it up so that Tamaki wins (as we see in the race for the central salon). It’s a chance for him to win and not put his family first. Tamaki still tried his best, because Kyoya would hate him if he threw the race, but he lost because Kyoya fought with the intention of winning for HIMSELF, and not just playing support to Tamaki or impressing his father.

Finally, in the last panel, it’s revealed that the class trip will be to France.

WHY I LOVE IT:

God it burns so good. So Good. The Tamakyo, the Hikaru & Kaoru character growth, the Kyoya development, the Tamaki being so so so good, the Kyoya being so brilliant, everything oh my lord. This is really one of the biggest points of Kyoya’s character development, and it’s the first place I’m going to point to when thinking accurately about who he is as a person. It shows who he is, and who he believes he is, and who he wants to be, and who other people see him as. It’s also just a Tamakyo goldmine, even though they don’t ever actually talk. It’s so beautiful and it makes me cry.

3. THE ORIENTEERING RACE

(vol 14 chp 66 - vol 15 chp 68)

PLOT:

In an attempt to make Tamaki realize that the hosts all love him just as much as he loves them, the hosts sans Tamaki put together an orienteering race. There are six checkpoints, each one with a task to be completed in order to get an ingredient that will make the best meal at the end of the race.

Hikaru and Kaoru play the return of the “Which one is Hikaru?” game, knowing that Tamaki has been able to tell them apart for a while by now; Nekozawa’s checkpoint is a quiz on cursed items, knowing that Tamaki is familiar with Beelzenef; Honey’s checkpoint is a game of whack-a-mole with little mini Usa-chans, knowing that Tamaki isn’t afraid of making him upset over a game, though all the girls are; Mori’s is a sword slicing thing to show that Tamaki will never give up on something; Haruhi’s is a “tell the truth or never pass” kind of thing; and Kyoya’s is a crossword puzzle of all the answers made up of things from previous club themes.

Tamaki pairs up with Konoya— who is in love with him and is the “perfect Haruhi” trope— and realizes that she’s incredibly different from Haruhi, and that he loves Haruhi for who she is and not who he thought he wanted her to be. He also realizes that— because the hosts have gone through all of this for him— they do love him for who he is, no matter what, no matter the bad parts of his personality, and they’re never leaving him.

WHY I LOVE IT:

Look. We know that anything about Tamaki is gonna make me happy. I am a simple woman and so easy to please. This is literally just three chapters about how much all of the hosts love Tamaki and want him to be happy. I cannot express in words how rewarding it is to watch Tamaki realize how important he is and how much he’s loved— because he is loved, he’s so loved, he’s so so so loved. This is also the arc with the building block / building a home metaphor, and it destroyed me both physically and emotionally (vol 14 chp 66). This is where the found family is really solidified, and we all love a good dosage of found family.

4. RACE FOR THE CENTRAL SALON / THE SCHOOL FAIR

(vol 6 chp 22 - vol 6 chp 26)

PLOT:

This is where the anime diverges from the manga, and I have to say that this version of the school fair is just so much better than the anime version. Like. Just So Much Better. Basically, the club is setting up for the school fair, and the best spot to set up— essentially, the spot that will get the most foot traffic form the parents— is in the central salon. To figure out which club is going to get the spot, they all compete in a literal race, both mind games and physical games and it just slaps overall.

The b-plot is that the Host Club is getting threatening letters telling them to drop out of the race, alongside blank papers that are sent with the notes; the hosts have to figure out who is sending the notes and confront it. This is the arc that introduces both Kuze and Yuzuru Suoh for the first time. Kuze is captain of the football team and Kyoya’s rival and also definitely his secret ex-boyfriend. Chairman Suoh is… just. A lot. Just. That’s it. A Lot. He’s A Lot.

Anyways, part of the winning race is capturing this crown that’s hidden on campus, which turns out to be at a swimming pool. The football team gets there at the same time as Haruhi, and Kuze pushes her into the pool and goes for the crown. Kyoya and Tamaki reach her at the same time— Tamaki’s instinct is to go for Haruhi, but Kyoya tells him to get the crown and thus the glory of winning, while Kyoya rescues Haruhi.

Later, it turns out that Yuzuru was sending the blank papers with harmless messages written in invisible ink as a prank to emphasize the literal hate mail that the hosts were getting. The follow up to the race is the actual school fair, where we meet Yoshio and Shizue. Fuck Shizue, not even going to get into that right now because I WILL cry, but just know that it’s even worse than it is in the anime. Yoshio, though, is eons better in the manga than in the anime— he is genuinely proud of Kyoya and says that he actually wouldn’t mind appointing Kyoya as heir.

WHY I LOVE IT:

Volume 6 does SO MUCH for Kyoya and Tamaki and we all know that I’m ride or die for the two of them. Kyoya finally gets a chance to shine as team leader and it’s what he deserves! Tamaki takes a little more of a backseat, which I don’t even mind, because Kyoya does such a good job of pulling attention here. The scene at the swimming pool is just so good— it really shows the huge amount of trust between Tamaki and Kyoya, and does a good job of setting up the relationship they need to have as Rich People, outside of their friendship, which is something that we don’t see a lot of. Overall, it’s a very Kyoya-centric arc, and it does amazing things for the development of his character and personality. It’s one of the biggest insights into how he functions as a kind of mastermind for the club. We also finally get Tamaki’s full-ish backstory, which genuinely makes me cry every time.

5. THE HITACHIIN FAMILY

(vol 10 chp 45 / vol 11 chp 51 - vol 12 chp 53)

PLOT:

So this is technically two plot lines, but I’m going to count it as one because it’s all about the twins, my loves. In vol 10 chp 45, we get a little insight into the life of the Hitachiin family and why the twins are as fucked up as they are. Quick rundown— their parents can tell them apart but pretend not to for whatever godforsaken reason; Kaoru admits he’s in love with Haruhi for the first time and Hikaru remains oblivious; Kaoru begins to realize how unhealthy he and Hikaru’s relationship is and how, one day, they aren’t going to be able to have all of the same things; there’s a cookie metaphor; Tamaki gets lost in the Hitachiin manion; it’s all a good time.

In volumes 11 and 12, we begin the actual split between the twins, where they realize that they can’t stay the way that they are forever. They can’t be one person forever. They realize this in a fight over Haruhi, where Hikaru suggests they “share” her as a sister, and Kaoru rightfully thinks this is bullshit. They get in their first— and only— genuinely real argument. Hikaru breaks down in Mori’s house, Kaoru breaks down at Honey’s place, literally no one is happy and I am crying.

Kaoru asks Haruhi out on a date, and then ends the date by explaining that he could never date her knowing that it would be hurting Hikaru. Haruhi is, understandably, very confused by this whole thing, and no one is telling her anything.

Kaoru then makes up with Hikaru, saying that he’ll give up on trying to pursue Haruhi, but tells him that they actually do need to live separate lives at some point— and that point might as well be now. He wants to break apart entirely, but Hikaru explains that while they need to break apart in a lot of ways and find their own identities, they can never fully forget each other. They agree that they can influence and love each other without depending on each other for a personality.

They keep up the incest ACT at the club, though. Bisco Hatori couldn’t manage to write her way out of that one.

WHY I LOVE IT:

So this one just. Really hits home for me. It’s a genuinely heart wrenching arc, and the progression of the whole thing was just so slow and so steady and it was so well done. The twins are two of my favorite characters in the show/manga, and their relationship is something that I can analyze for days, and this arc is a huge part of why it’s so interesting. It does amazing things for both of them as developing characters, but it does even more amazing things for their character growth as people. It also provides a nice catalyst for the Hikaru/Tamaki/Haruhi love triangle. Anyways, it made me cry and apparently that’s my only criteria.

6. THE FRANCE ARC

(vol 10 chp 46 - vol 12 chp 56)

PLOT:

On the Ouran 2nd year school trip to France, Kyoya decides he’s going to spend the trip searching for Tamaki’s mother, rather than spending it with the other students. He works himself to death trying to find her— he ends up literally falling asleep on the ground because he’s so exhausted from searching and taking literally no breaks. Kyoya finds her eventually, and has a really nice conversation with her— she has a bunch of photos of Tamaki, and clearly is constantly thinking about him. When he gets back to Japan, he tells Tamaki about her— about how beautiful she is, about how she smiles, about how she thinks of her son every day.

We get more of Tamaki’s backstory, and his close relationship from his mother and how his mantra— living life in Japan to the fullest and being as happy as he can be every day— all comes from his mother. She told him that she’s happiest when he’s smiling, and so when he leaves her behind in France, he decides to be smiling every day and make everyone around him smile as well.

While Kyoya is in France, Tamaki stays behind in Japan— he gets closer to his father, who offers to begin to train him to take over the Suoh business. He visits Haruhi, and tells her a little bit about his life in France, and Haruhi’s love for Tamaki begins to make an appearance for the first time.

WHY I LOVE IT:

So I went into this list thinking that this would be my favorite plot, so it’s wild to me that it didn’t even make the top five. It’s kind of weird and I didn’t expect it, but I’m still satisfied with this list. Anyways, I really love this one, even if it’s not the top five. It’s like. The ultimate Tamakyo story, and there’s just. There’s just so much to unpack there. Like. We don’t have time for me to go through the whole thing and analyze every part of it because there’s just so much of it. It’s so good, and it makes my heart grow three sizes. It’s another brilliant development piece for Kyoya, and shows his softer side, as well as just how much he loves Tamaki.

7. MORI AND HONEY GRADUATE

(vol 15 chp 71 - vol 16 chp 72)

PLOT:

Honey and Mori announce that, after graduation, they’ll be splitting up and going to different universities. This proceeds to emotionally destroy literally everyone except for them. Mori is challenged to a series of duels at the Kendo club in which he has to fight every underclassman who wants the honor of fighting him before he graduates. He’s exhausted and worn down, and he loses to a second year, which is bad for like. Honor reasons. RIP. Anyways. He reveals that he’s just been really worried about something but before he can tell anyone, he has to duel Honey. It hurts.

They start preparing for the fight— which Kyoya is capitalizing off of via movie rights and betting rings— and scare everyone that they’re going to never speak again. When the fight comes, they fight on the Windswept Hill™ at Ouran (the same place that Chika and Honey fight on way back when). They go for it and pull no punches, until Honey tries to do a flying kick and Mori catches him and gently places him outside of the boundaries of the fighting ring, thus winning the duel.

Because he won, he pulls out a sheet of paper in which he’s written down all of the things that Honey needs to do in university because Mori isn’t going to be there to take care of him: brush his teeth, cut down the cake by 90%, and stop bringing Usa-chan to classes. Mori felt that he didn’t have the right to tell him these things until they were on equal level because he had won the duel.

They make up and everything is okay— they graduate, everyone cries, including me. Kasanoda gives Mori flowers, it’s all very cute. Haruhi makes cookies, and when Tamaki goes running down the hallway to find her, they bump into each other and drop all of the cookies. While they’re picking them up, they share the classic ~accidental kiss~.

WHY I LOVE IT:

This is one of the only Honey & Mori-centric plotlines that gets fully fleshed out and like. More than a chapter. It really does lovely things for their relationship, and it’s the end of an era. Even though it’s the end of an era, though, the resolution is incredibly satisfying— Honey and Mori’s stories are wrapping up, but it’s really well done. It’s sad, but it’s a really rewarding ending. They’re such sweet boys. Also, it’s not like they’re gone forever, so it’s all okay.

8. REIKO x HONEY

(vol 10 chp 41)

PLOT:

Reiko is part of the Black Magic Club, and falls in love with Honey when he gives her a hand in getting up after she trips over Usa-chan. However, she believes that falling in love with Honey is equivalent to him “stealing her soul,” and so she uses “curses” to steal his soul back. These curses are basically just love spells.

In the end, Honey tells her to just, like, be herself. Talk about her interests. Get to know him. Be honest. Then she won’t need love spells to make him like her. Even if she messes up or is awkward or says something weird, he’ll still like her because she’s being true to herself. This is one of the only Honey-centric chapters, and Reiko is one of my favorite side characters.

WHY I LOVE IT:

They’re the OG goth x pastel couple. The blueprint for all other couples. Icons. I love them so much. This makes it on the list just because I love their relationships. I also love the whole Moral Of The Story, in that it’s important to be true to yourself. It’s so sweet it hurts.

9. HARUHI AND TAMAKI’S FIRST DATE

(vol 18 chp 81 - vol 18 chp 82)

PLOT:

So. Right after the two of them confess their love to each other, everyone expects them to get together and be a couple right away, but Haruhi is just kinda chilling. She’s not super stressed about dating, it’s just a relief to have said it out loud. Meanwhile, Tamaki is kind of a mess, stressing out over their first date and trying to make it as perfect as he possibly can. Seeing him so stressed, all of the hosts band together to help him out in planning a date. When Tamaki finally gets up the nerve to ask her out, he falls in the fountain and Haruhi has to fish him out. She’s then the one to ask him out to the amusement park.

In true Tamaki fashion, he gets incredibly stressed out again. He gets fashion advice from a series of unfashionable people. The hosts sneak around the amusement park and follow them around, finding out that it’s actually going really well, as long as they’re not interfering. After the Lobelia girls show up and try to sabotage the date, Tamaki and Haruhi run away— while Kyoya Handles™ the situation— and they go to her mother’s grave. There, it’s revealed that Haruhi will be going on an exchange program to America.

WHY I LOVE IT:

It’s just. So cute. Like. I’m Tamakyo for life, but I do adore them so much. It’s lower on the list because of the sheer amount of second hand embarrassment, but overall, I loved reading this one. Tamaki is just so genuine and earnest about everything he does, and I think these chapters do a lot to show why the two of them work as a couple. It also does lovely characterization points for Haruhi, and begins to wrap up the ending. Bonus points for a jealous and heartbroken Kyoya.

10. PRINCESS MICHELLE

(vol 9 chp 38 - vol 9 chp 39)

PLOT:

Princess Michelle comes to Ouran to do a week of school in Japan. After meeting her, Tamaki essentially puts him and the Host Club at her beck and call, doing anything that he can to make her happy, no matter how insanely extravagant her demands are. Everyone else finds this infuriating, until Kyoya points out that Michelle looks similar to Tamaki’s mother, saying that the last time Tamaki saw his mother, she was crying— and if he sees Michelle smile for real, it might help him picture his mother smiling again.

Overall, it’s just a very soft arc that begins to unfold Tamaki’s family-related trauma. It also kickstarts Tamaki’s realization that he’s in love with Haruhi and doesn’t actually have paternal feelings for her (that’s the whole next chapter, but make it funny rather than introspective); and it’s one of the moments that Haruhi realizes that Tamaki is genuinely just a good person.

WHY I LOVE IT:

I wasn’t sure that this one would make the list at all, but I do really love this story. It’s pretty short, just two chapters, but it’s overall really sweet. I like Michelle as a character a lot— she seems a bit like a bitch at the beginning, but she gets fleshed out and given an actual personality as the chapter goes on. It’s a really good example of Bisco Hatori’s writing.

HONORARY MENTIONS:

Mei (character): probably the most significant character in the manga that doesn’t appear at all in the anime, which is pretty tragic, but I think that the anime really wanted to emphasize that Haruhi doesn’t really have any female friends / friends outside of the hosts. But anyways, she’s Misuzu’s daughter and Haruhi’s friend; she’s lowkey transphobic but she’s getting better! Had a brief crush on Tamaki but she ends with being the #1 Tamaharu stan. Great friend to Haruhi.

The masquerade ball: Haruhi's going away party, and the reveal that she's a girl.

Haruhi gets kidnapped: Haruhi is kidnapped and held for ransom, the hosts find her and break down doors to get there.

#ohshc #ouran manga #ouran koukou host club #ouran high school host club #ouran liveblog #ouran #ouran high school host club manga #please rb this i worked SO HARD on it #also please add your opinions #there are a few different lists that are valid. and many that are not.#i will vibe check your lists if you post them

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drjackandmissjo · 3 years ago

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I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you

(but I’ll do what I must for there’s no me without you)

*** Set throughout the course of their 7th and final year at Hogwarts, this story follows Slytherin's finest and one of the only sane members of the House, Blaise Zabini, as he navigates war-torn friendships, school under a dictatorial regime, Death Eaters and, most importantly, his secret relationship with none other than the new leader of the DA, known blood-traitor, Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom.

A sequel to my previous story: Firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine, you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 1 --- next chapter

Harry Potter fic masterlist

29th of July 1997

“I have to admit: I enjoyed the film way more than I expected to,” he said once they had left the muggle theatre. The air had become chilly during the time they had spent inside, but neither of them was bothered by that: they were used to colder climates, after all, spending most of the year in Scotland. And for all its spells and constant fires, one thing always must be said about Hogwarts: certain rooms and corners had never seen the light of the sun and they surely behaved as such, even during warm days.

Like the Potions classrooms, while Snape was their Professor. Those dungeon rooms looked and smelled and felt every bit of humidity that came from being so close to the lake and that, even with the countless explosions that Theo and the Fire Kid from Gryffindor caused with each lesson, could never get anything warmed up. A Hungarian Horntail could breathe fire in there for 24 hours straight and it would still be humid and wet and cold.

It was a good thing Professor Slughorn had decided to move the classrooms up on the fourth floor, in rooms full of windows and light. Blaise could have easily gone without having to add to his ever-growing list of worries his skin getting dehydrated with the stained and stale air that circulated down there.

He watched from the corner of his eye Neville nod along to his statement in agreement, before casually running a hand through his hair and messing them up even further. No matter how hard he tried to keep them neat and proper, like his grandmother wanted them to be, the strands appeared to have a life on their own, especially when certain Slytherin hands had free reign in between them whenever they were alone.

Besides, it really wasn’t Blaise’s fault: Neville had decided he wanted to grow them out, instead of cutting them just as his grandmother suggested on the daily, and, much to Blaise’s happiness, now his bangs framed his face divinely, making for a perfect place to leave his hands whenever they were else occupied.

He also enjoyed the way Neville would scoff in pretended annoyance whenever he disarrayed them and then would shake his head in disbelief at his antics, aiding Blaise’s purpose even further.

And, really, who could blame him? If Blaise wasn’t as in love with the dorky plant-head Gryffindor as he already was, he’d fall even harder at the sight of him with his funky tousled hair and puffy lips as he took a bite out of Blaise’s food without asking first.

He had been so glad that day, having bought a muggle camera that worked similarly to a magical one but that was way easier to manage. He had taken dozens of stills of them, never seeming to get enough of Neville’s smiling face and of his own relaxed and happy one. For Salazar’s soul, he had even sent one of the two of them smiling to his mother, after she kept on asking to at least see the young man that had enchanted her son.

She had replied to his letter the following day, with a simple: “Rule number fifty-one: don’t let him go.”

Blaise had never once wanted to disappoint his mother and definitely wouldn’t start now.

“I don’t really like the way it ended, though. The part where J removed K’s memories was a nice touch, but I feel like we didn’t have enough time with neither,” Neville commented, shoving his hands inside his jeans’ pockets as they kept on walking further and further away from the theatre, undoubtedly to stop himself from doing something idiotic like holding Blaise’s hand when there were still people around.

Given the current political and non-political air that permeated both the Wizarding World and Britain, the two young men had decided that it would be best to limit their encounters only to muggle areas in London, although they would still have to maintain a rather low and inconspicuous profile. It had become incredibly easy to be together without raising suspicions, especially with almost an entire school year of experience sneaking around the castle, but they still preferred to be cautious, to hide from both dark wizards and close-minded muggles.

Neville still lived with his grandmother, but she had become less strict during the course of his first week back at home from school and didn’t really bother him with the amount of time he stayed out, as long as he spent the nights at home. Besides, in her own words, they all had ‘bigger problems than teenagers breaking curfew a little bit to meet with their friends.’ Blaise couldn’t believe that he could ever agree with Augusta Longbottom, but he had seen stranger things happen.

Still, when Neville told him, he had been so shocked he had choked on his drink, causing the Gryffindor to laugh at the spectacle he had created with his Cola.

Blaise himself had been invited to spend his vacation at either Malfoy Manor and the Nott’s, both families offering their hospitality and implicit protection, but he had declined immediately under the ruse of a simple: ‘I live with you the whole year, I need my space and I need to breathe proper air that isn’t tainted with your disgusting deodorant.’ While the sentiment itself was true, he did not want to risk being found out with Neville, a known ‘blood traitor’. Not to mention the part of him being a guy. And a Gryffindor.

Blaise wasn’t really certain about which part would get him into more trouble and wasn’t willing to find out anytime soon.

Therefore, he had chosen to stay at his father’s old bachelor apartment in London, while his mother moved back to France, not wanting to be anywhere near the War that was brewing.

He had asked Neville to stay with him as soon as he was done cleaning the place, making it welcoming and a cosy retreat for them, but his adorable boyfriend couldn’t leave his despotic grandmother alone the entire time, especially not now that the waters were rough.

Always the selfless Gryffindor.

They had retorted then in meeting for random dates almost daily, which had been heavenly. Neville would show up at his apartment with Floo Powder, since he hadn’t taken his Apparition Examination yet, and then they’d just walk around muggle London, as if they had no care in the world. They still kept their guards up, checking every corner for danger that could be avoided, but they tried to ignore the Damocles Sword that hung above their necks.

Which had led them to the muggle theatre on more than one occasion. It had been a perfect idea: in the darkened room nobody questioned why they were holding hands or sharing the popcorn; and they wouldn’t risk anyone from the Wizarding World discovering them, those who would cause them troubles too high on their brooms to even look down at something as mundane as a muggle theatre.

They had also gone to muggle museums and parks and bookstores and restaurants, but Blaise loved the privacy the theatres offered, he loved the way Neville would get engrossed in the stories, he loved the way their hands would link together as suspense built on the screen, he loved to discuss the film afterwards and to dissect every aspect that he found interesting.

And he loved Neville, so it was all an added bonus.

There was a small theatre nearby his place that was quiet and seldom fraught and that allowed them to spend their evenings together, with the walk towards it full of the most random topic the pair could come up with and the walk back usually occupied with their thoughts and opinions about the film they had just watched. Neither of them had been too well versed in muggle culture to begin with, but it was very easy to pick up, especially with the way the family-owned theatre would sometimes project well-known and older productions, instead of only showing the recent ones.

It made the muggle spectacle even more fascinating, in Blaise’s eyes.

“It was kind of poetic, like a rite of passage and everything, but I understand what you mean,” Blaise said as they kept on walking, itching to grab Neville’s hand but holding himself back for the time being: they were still under the scrutiny of the public eye, after all. He’d have to wait until they turned two corners and were finally alone in the streets to finally place his hands on his boyfriend’s. With moderation, of course. “I feel like the story isn’t finished, especially with the way they had the doctor become an Agent. I understand that she had had her memory wiped more times than Lockhart, but she seemed fine! I don’t know, that ending left me pretty unsatisfied as well.”

His boyfriend huffed out a laugh at that and began to silently shake his head: “Lockhart got obliviated only once, by his own spell bouncing back from Ron’s broken wand. Compared to him, that doctor got her brain scrambled on the daily. But you’re right, it would have been so much better if she kept her job and was on the loop with the alien stuff.”

“Speaking of Lockhart, I wonder how’s he doing…” Blaise inquired, scratching his neck. It had been over three years since anyone had heard of the famous wizard and pretty much everyone had seemed to have forgotten about him. It was such a mystery for some, his sudden disappearance after his year teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Yet again, pretty much all the students at Hogwarts knew of the curse on that position, which made his absence plausible, but to have such a well renowned and celebrated man vanish into thin air after publishing a controversial book where he told the world he had no memory of who he had ever been, it was more than suspicious.

“At St. Mungo’s, giving out autographs Godric knows what for,” Neville answered his implicit question with nonchalance, “I see him sometimes when I go visit Mum and Dad.”

During the time they had been together, Neville had slowly begun to tell Blaise about what had happened to his family: how they were members of the original Order of the Phoenix, fighting the Dark Lord during the First War; how Dumbledore had suggested they hid as well as the Potters, because of some prophecy that would connect their children with the Dark Lord himself; how, after he was defeated and the Potters were killed, his parents were tracked down by four remaining Death Eaters and tortured to insanity; how they now stayed at St. Mungo’s, without a single memory of their son, completely out of their minds.

Blaise had always been cold and calculative and preferred to keep a rational outlook to the world, but when he saw, for the first time since that new information, Bellatrix Lestrange, at Malfoy Manor, free and enjoying life, his blood had begun to boil. He had never wanted to murder someone as much as he did in that moment, forcing himself to maintain a smile on his face and to pretend like he wasn’t ready to slaughter someone. When he came back home that night after dinner with Draco and his wretched family, he had spent an entire hour in the shower, scrubbing at his skin as if he could erase the memory of that wretched woman, drinking wine and telling them all about the Cruciatus Curse and how useful it could be to a dark wizard. He had kept that piece of information hidden from Neville, even though he had recounted pretty much the entire evening the following day, while his boyfriend attempted to calm him down from his homicidal plans, without truly knowing what had instigated them.

And he would never know, for Blaise would go to any lengths to avoid his sweet and loving boyfriend any pain. He had already suffered too much, in his short life.

“Really, he’s at St. Mungo’s?” Blaise asked, trying to distract himself from those dark thoughts. When he was with Neville, it almost felt as if Death Eaters didn’t exist, as if the Dark Lord hadn’t risen again, as if they weren’t on the verge of War. “I thought the whole ‘Who Am I?’ book was all a plan to disappear after he botched our second year without being bothered and now you tell me that Weasley sent him to the healers and basically deprived the Wizarding World of that perfectly blinding smile?” Neville playfully shoved him to the side with his shoulder, lingering a little in his touch as they kept on walking, just as restless as he was to be behind closed doors and to have their privacy and safety: “Ron didn’t send him anywhere and he got what he deserved,” he commented sheepishly, regarding Blaise with a blinding smile of his own.

And Blaise definitely preferred his boyfriend’s smile, so true and sincere and warm and just perfect, rather than anything their former fraud of a professor had ever shared.

“He spent the entire year pretending he could do shit and leaving me hanging from the ceiling, multiple times, and then, at the first sign that he needed to be a responsible adult, he tried to Obliviate Harry and Ron and leave Ginny down with the Basilisk. They got so lucky that Lockhart took Ron’s wand that still hadn’t been repaired, otherwise they’d all still be down there.” Then, as if in an afterthought, he added: “And don’t worry, he still got that smile,” his face reddened and visible even in the dimly lit street.

“No need being jealous of a man who isn’t even worth the mud under your shoes, Nev,” he teased, enjoying how his boyfriend would stammer embarrassed at being discovered.

“I’m not jealous!” he defended himself, but the crimson on his cheeks spoke of another story.

Blaise itched to cup his cheeks and to feel the warmth of his skin, but they were still in the middle of a street that was fairly illuminated and with people around. Therefore he did the next best thing: returned on a safer conversational path. “Oh, yeah, I remember about Weasley’s wand,” he said, laughing at the memory, “It bounced back that Slug-vomiting charm that was aimed at Draco. We had a blast that day, when he told us the story.” “Glad some of you enjoyed it, with your sick sense of humour,” Neville said, shuffling his hands inside of his pockets as they moved closer and closer to the corner that would lead them to the apartment, “poor Ron had to carry a bucket wherever he went for two days straight!”

Blaise couldn’t help himself: maybe it was the serious way he defended his friend, or maybe it was the image of a tiny second-year Weasley carrying around the entire castle a bucket to throw up slugs in, undoubtedly aided by an equally tiny Saint Potter with a bewildered tiny Grander following suit and reprimanding them both, but he just burst up laughing, his entire body shaking with it as he put his hands over his stomach, to try and regain his composure.

Yet, all thoughts of etiquette were damned as soon as he heard his boyfriend join in, his own laugh bright and pure and just perfect.

And the icing on their cake laid in the fact that they were alone, without anyone watching them, and they could just be themselves. Blaise didn’t hesitate a moment into grabbing Neville’s hand, enjoying the warmth that the Gryffindor radiated. They kept on laughing and holding hands as they walked back to the one place they could call theirs.

They all but ran the few meters that kept them vulnerable, staggering over the stairs as if they were drunk. It was a somehow good paragon, considering how inebriated they were with each other, and Blaise couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful his life was in that moment. He could just be himself, around Neville, without having to worry about composure or secrets or manners.

When they closed the door behind their backs and stumbled inside of the apartment, they didn’t even open the electrical lights up, too engrossed in making up for the time they hadn’t been allowed to share, close and up in each other’s personal space.

Blaise would’ve been content in simply existing there, in the tiny apartment that once belonged to his late father, with his hands up on his boyfriend’s hair as he worked and worried over Neville’s exposed neck, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, watching him lean against a wall for support once his legs had given up completely. The outside world didn’t matter anymore, not to him, not when he had Neville’s hands on him. He’d be glad dying there, in his arms, unbothered by the imminent war, by his friends, by their duties.

But reality had to crash down on them at some point.

Neville removed his mouth from his, panting and with his eyes shut, savouring for one more moment their closeness. Blaise studied his face from the short distance, as he always loved doing, recognising his boyfriend’s reluctance to separate. Yet, his duty would win, as it always did, and he would take a step back, trying to recompose himself and running a hand through his hair.

It was long due a haircut, by now, but Blaise was an egoist and wanted the length to stay for a little longer. Besides, when September came, his grandmother would definitely cut it, even against Neville’s will. And Blaise would take whatever he could, when it came to going against Augusta Longbottom.

He hadn’t even met the woman yet and he had already accepted defeat, if it meant keeping Neville in his life. And, while he did not harbour any love for the witch, he was most certain he could keep an amicable front with her, at least, all for Neville’s sake.

That didn’t mean, though, that he didn’t try to stray her grandson into a different path than the one she wanted, at every corner: “Can’t you stay this once?” he asked in a low and sultry voice, fully conscious of what that tone did to his perfect Gryffindor boyfriend, refusing to take a step back and let a single centimetre separate the two of them.

He watched as Neville slowly opened his eyes in the dim light that was filtered by the window from the empty street below. He watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to regain his breathing. He watched, powerless, as Neville slipped them over, switching their positions, effectively trapping him against the wall in his arms.

The Gryffindor bent down a little and placed the most chaste and sweet and anticlimactic kiss on Blaise’s lips, driving the Slytherin mad with want and desire, unable to do anything other than comply.

“You know I can’t, flower,” he murmured directly against Blaise’s lips, his own stretching in a wicked smile. Neville Longbottom knew exactly which buttons to press and when to use them all against him: Blaise couldn’t help the shiver that ran over his back at that simple word, still not used to the way the simple pet name made his toes curl and his heart beat out of his chest, nor could he help the sound of appreciation that came out of his throat, and that transformed immediately into one of disappointment as soon as his boyfriend untangled himself from him.

He tried to make some air reach his brain, when Neville stepped back from him once again, leaving him space to breathe and recollect himself while still being infuriatingly close, neither of them wanting to truly part despite their obligations.

“Yes, I unfortunately do…” he answered, still leaning against the wall. He ran his right thumb over his lips, enjoying the way the Gryffindor’s body stiffened at the sight as his eyes tracked the movement. He sometimes still couldn’t believe his luck, especially when Neville looked at him like that, as if he needed all of his strength just to hold back.

Most of the time, Blaise wished he didn’t, yet the knowledge that he was the one to make the apparently timid, placid Schlongbottom, as his friends still believed he was, lose his mind completely was intoxicating. And he lived for those moments and hours when Neville would let go of his composure fully, causing Blaise to follow suit without a single complaint. Because he couldn’t be the farthest from timid or placid, but only he saw that side of him, only he got to enjoy that part of his sweet and amazing boyfriend.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Blaise asked almost out of the blue, conscious already of the reply, but wanting to steal some more time alone with the Gryffindor.

He didn’t particularly care that he was abiding by the stereotype that Slytherins were manipulating and tempting, not when Neville would shoot him a blinding but cocky smile as he fired back: “Already missing me?”

“Always.”

“I told you, I’m going to help Luna find a dress for the wedding and Grandma’s organised that family gathering to celebrate my 17th…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck, to try to make his blushing less noticeable. Unfortunately for him, in doing so, he had involuntarily made his shirt rise a little, showing off the skin beneath, and Blaise was not going to let such an opportunity pass: he moved closer and snug his arms around his boyfriend’s midriff, planting his hands in the small of his back. “Remind me again why I can’t crash her party and steal you away?” he asked casually, next to his ear, before he began to worry the earlobe with his teeth.

Neville seemed to be at a loss for words under Blaise’s ministrations, which was entirely his goal, but he eventually did manage to speak again: “Because she doesn’t know about us, since if she did we’ll never hear the end of it ‘cause we were keeping this a secret, and you are a Slytherin and I am a Gryffindor, and because she is not allowing me to invite any friends,” he said, his voice firm and unfaltering, despite the way his hands were holding Blaise close to him, silently begging to keep up with his work.

Not that he was planning to stop anytime soon. Still, some words at the back of his throat itched to be said: “I have a few words I’d like to tell your grandmother and none of them are kind,” Blaise claimed, staring right into Neville’s eyes and wondering how such a stern woman could raise such a loving man. While it was true that she had laid off his back for the time being, she had doubled down on her questions about Neville’s private life: the poor Gryffindor had to retort to lying simply to avoid her finding out about their relationship. It was a good thing that he had quite a vast number of friends and that said friends didn’t interact with his grandmother, because, based on Blaise’s very own experience with pureblood families, everyone knew everything, especially when ‘keeping the lines pure’ was involved and everyone turned out to be related.

For instance, Neville’s white lie for that day’s activity was very simple: “I’m going to play Quidditch with my roommates and we’ll have dinner afterwards.”

When Neville had told him as much, Blaise had exploded into laughter and disbelief. Was it believable for his boyfriend to play Quidditch? Absolutely not, but he shared a dormitory with Weasley, Thomas and Saint Potter, therefore he played by proxy. It would have equally been absurd for his grandmother to and not to believe him, which was what made the lie incredibly clever.

Blaise shook his head as he silently snickered at the fresh memory, still hesitant to remove his hands from his boyfriend’s body: “Anyway, who’s getting married now that we’re almost on the brink of war?” he inquired, truly curious. A wedding in the Wizarding World was a very public event, especially when pureblood families were involved, which they must have been, if Lovegood was invited.

All of his friends still kept on calling her Loony, but he had stopped using that epithet, since he had begun to consider her a friend as well, thanks to their mutual connection to Neville. And she was an excellent friend, both to him and his boyfriend, kind and compassionate and considerate.

He had already begun to wonder about who the couple must have been, considering no one in his circles had mentioned anything, when Neville spoke, making him understand exactly why nobody amongst the purebloods he spent his time around had even known or cared about such a thing: “Bill Weasley, Ron’s eldest brother, and Fleur Delacour.”

“The Triwizard Champion? How did they even meet?” he inquired, now even more curious. He had seen the eldest Weasley only once, at Gringotts, and it was in that moment that he first began to question whether or not he was straight. And, to pair that with Beauxbatons’ champion, well… That must have been a hell of a good looking couple!

“I don’t know,” Neville said, leaning his head against Blaise’s shoulder and looking at him with a soft smile through his eyelashes, “but they’re super cute together, at least that’s what Ginny told me.” “And you haven’t been invited?” His boyfriend shrugged at that, Blaise knew he did not particularly care about mundane events and being into the public eye: “No, from what Ginny told me it’s not going to be that big of a ceremony. Only family, close friends of the couple, and neighbours. Which is why Luna’s going, as well as to spend time with Ginny.”

“That’s a shame you won’t be there,” he commented, running for the umpteenth time that eventing his hands through Neville’s hair, as the other wizard stayed there, merely enjoying his ministration while he tried not to fall asleep. It had happened already once, right before he had to leave, and that incident had prompted his grandmother into a speech about the right of an adolescent Gryffindor to a little bit of rule-breaking. “I bet you would’ve looked dashing in a suit.”

“Jealous, darling? You know you could always look at me in a suit, if you’d just let me borrow one…” “Not a chance, caro. Mine are all tailored to perfection for my body,” he said playfully, moving his head to the side to place a small kiss on Neville’s nose, causing the other wizard to blush and giggle, “Besides, I prefer seeing you without a single stitch.” “Blaise! You can’t just say shit like that!” his boyfriend spluttered, trying to get away from his words as if they had just tickled him. He loved the way Neville would get all cute and embarrassed. His usual tell was the blush that started on his cheeks and spread throughout his body, and that was incredibly adorable. Blaise had tried to see just how farther the colour could spread, but he had been distracted in his path, somehow. “Why not? No one is listening and it’s true!” he had begun to retort, only to be shut up quickly as two lips pressed against his own, soft yet insistent, gentle yet commanding. One thing had to be said about Neville Longbottom and that was how efficient he was at quieting him with a single gesture, whether with a kiss or by simply occupying his mind with the little things he always did, essentially being himself, unfiltered.

It took them less time than usual to resurface for once, mainly because Blaise still wanted to know more about the hot new wizarding couple that could definitely take over the world, if the Dark Lord wouldn’t win.

He desperately prayed he wouldn’t, for countless different reasons.

“When is this marvellous event?” he asked, still refusing to put a single millimetre of space in between them.

“In three days, on the first. Luna’s absolutely on her last chance, looking for the perfect dress that won’t attire Wrackspurts,” he commented, shaking his head. Something inside of Blaise told him that it wasn’t the first nor the second time they went out shopping and, if Lovegood was anything like Pansy, it must have not been an easy task chaperoning. Pansy Parkinson could try on an entire street of boutiques, buy every single item of her size, and still lament she had nothing to wear.

“Why? Wanna meet up? I thought we were going for lunch on the second,” Neville added, pulling him out of the horror of the memory of the first time that witch had discovered French Haute Couture: a tornado would’ve left behind less damage.

“Yeah, I’ve been invited to Draco’s for dinner on the first, with all the others…” he trailed off, remembering exactly what had been discussed the previous night amongst the Death Eaters. It wasn’t unusual for Draco and Theo to invite him over, especially since they both believed he was fully on the Dark Lord’s side but was merely acting precious, never truly giving in. And he couldn’t deny an invitation, otherwise it would have looked suspicious. After all, his friends knew that he was staying all alone in London, away from his family, and that he wasn’t fooling around with anyone, which, in their eyes, meant he had a lot of free time.

Free time that they tried to occupy, not wanting to leave him completely alone. Thankfully, they weren’t overbearing, having him over every couple of days or so, respecting his privacy, but whenever an invitation came, he had to follow through.

Now, he couldn’t exactly tell his friends: “No, I’ll pass on spending time with you, I’m going to go watch muggle entertainment with my Gryffindor boyfriend,” could he?

Luckily for his relationship, though, the invites were rather old fashioned, called days prior, and that left him and Neville plenty of time to organize. The only person in their friend group that liked to show up uninvited or unannounced by an owl was Pansy, but she would’ve stayed in Spain until the mid of August, which meant Blaise could breathe a little without having to worry about her finding out his secret. Draco and Theo were way too busy in their official Death Eater work to even want to hang out with him in the mornings and afternoons anyway.

“What is it, B?” Neville asked, undoubtedly feeling the way his shoulders had tensed from up close. His hold on Blaise became slightly tighter, grounding and real, while still remaining gentle, letting him know that they were alright and, no matter what happened, they’d be okay.

Closing his eyes and leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder, he began to recount what he had eavesdropped: “When I was at Theo’s last night, his father and his uncle were talking about something that went bad for them the day before, so on the 27th, and how the Dark Lord was more than displeased. All I got were hushed words about a failed kidnapping, I believe, and how the Dark Lord had completely exploded against his followers in anger, even though he had no idea who to even blame and punish. But then his father moved onto a different topic and said that they’d have their victory in a couple of days anyway, that they needed to wait, that they couldn’t lose, that August would be their month of victory. But he didn’t explain what exactly he had meant, without a doubt to keep us ‘children’ in the dark. I couldn’t really understand much, Crabbe had gone off about some bullshit of his and they were speaking in a low voice on the opposite side of the table, but the intent was clear. Something big is about to happen.” “Blaise…”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but they don’t fully trust anyone who doesn’t have the Mark. Besides, they consider us children, even Draco doesn’t know much and he let the bloody Death Eaters into Hogwarts! They know he’s loyal, or at least think so, ‘cause he was at some meetings with the Dark Lord himself. Yet they still don’t tell us shit. Not even to Theo, who’s more of a fanatic than a follower. And I am not going to taint my arm with that disgusting thing anytime soon, even if that would help. But it’s so frustrating and…” he continued, still refusing to open his eyes: he knew he should’ve told that story to Neville earlier, but he had got distracted by their date; he knew he should’ve contacted Professor McGonagall, warning her about what was going on and whose side he was on, but he was terrified he’d be intercepted somehow; he knew he was a terrible spy and that his motive was entirely egotistical, fuelled only by his will to keep Neville safe, and he couldn’t do anything about any of that.

War was coming and Blaise Zabini was powerless against it, unable to do anything concrete.

It wasn’t until he felt warm lips on his forehead and felt warm hands on either side of his face, gently holding him together, that he stopped his rambling. He usually wasn’t like this, letting his mind wander and his mouth running to catch up, at least not in front of other people, because it could potentially be dangerous and could bring unwanted questions. “Rule number eighteen: do not blabber, unless you intend to become a thespian and need practice for monologues,” his mother always said and he preferred to maintain a decent amount of control over the words that came out of him, never going into a rampage, unlike Draco did whenever he messed up his hair, yet never appearing bothered by the simple act of speaking, unlike Theo, who favoured monosyllabic replies to everything. His was always a perfect balance, studied to the last detail to make his speeches and his sentences reach the point and the mind of those who lent him their ears.

Rule number nineteen was: “do not fall in love with a thespian unless they’re a muggle actor from Hollywood,” yet Blaise knew he wouldn’t use that rule. Not anymore and hopefully not ever.

Still, of course, as it had become a routine in his life, everything about him became erratic and unpredictable when he was with Neville. He had found himself digress many times and he was always quite shocked when he realised how far he had gone from his initial path, much to his boyfriend’s delight and amusement. “I like seeing you ruffled,” he had admitted once, earning a copy of ‘Advanced Potion Making’ chucked at his head as they both laughed, with Blaise trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

“Blaise, my love, calm down,” Neville whispered softly against his forehead, hugging him closer and managing to reassure him without wearing him down with his own emotions, “I’m sure everything will be fine. The Order probably knows already that something’s about to happen. Besides, McGonagall’s in there as well, she’s not going to let anything happen, bad or not. Everything will be alright and I’ll come here on the second just like we planned to. You gotta trust me.”

He took a deep, steadying breath as he tried to ground himself back again. Neville’s presence helped greatly, as he had already told the other wizard countless times. “I trust you, more than anyone else,” he admitted, staring straight into his brown eyes as if they could hold all of the Universe’s answers, “But promise you won’t jump headfirst if something happens.” “Of course, I’ll stay home with Grandma as much as I can, when I don’t have my powerful Slytherin around to protect me. Besides, I’m pretty sure You Know Who will stay out of her path, she’s almost as scary as McGonagall!” Neville joked, causing Blaise to shake his head: Gryffindor antics were hard to knock off, it seemed. And, even if he was already wildly intimidated by Augusta Longbottom and she might make the Dark Lord reconsider his career path with her umbrella and her hats, theirs was not a topic to take lightly. “Neville, I’m serious.” “I know.”

Blaise scoffed at that and removed himself from their embrace, allowing space in between their bodies to better convey his message: “I know I can’t make you promise me you’ll stay put, ‘cause you won’t. But can you swear to me that you won’t risk your life recklessly?” he asked, unbothered if some of his desperation seeped into his voice. He knew he could let his walls down around his boyfriend, after all. “You mean like a Gryffindor,” came immediately the reply as Neville crossed his arms over his chest, now that he had the space to do so. “Nev…” “Only if you swear on Slytherin himself that as soon as shit starts to go down, you’ll get to safety,” he intercepted him, stopping Blaise before he could go on another tangent about House Values, “I need to know you’ll be careful.” Blaise nodded at that, he could understand the sentiment: of course his boyfriend would want him safe. But times were darkening by the hour and soon neither of them would probably know what safety even meant.

“Let’s make a deal:” he suggested, already knowing that Neville would agree to his plans, even if they were half-assed ideas about sneaking inside of a muggle library just to study and recreate the ambience of Hogwarts’ own, “usually I’m back from Draco’s around midnight. If nothing happens, we’ll just see each other in the morning after, as we planned. But if the world ends, meet me here at midnight. Sneak past your grandmother or stun her, since you won’t have to worry about the Trace by then. But just, come here, please.”

“The world’s not going to end, my love. Not on my watch,” Neville said, holding once again both of his hands in his and placing a soft kiss on his thumbs.

With the Gryffindor, it was all about the soft and subtle touches, the small moments. Blaise had dived into their relationship wanting to keep it hidden to avoid uproar by the entire school, yet he had been surprised when Neville hadn’t complained about their subtlety; he had almost expected the dorky plant-head to be the most PDA-indulging being in their entire school and it had been unexpected, yet not unwelcomed, his quiet way of giving affection, even when they were all alone and safe.

“Thank you, my mighty Gryffindor,” he replied with a flourish, pondering the pros and cons of bowing. On one hand, he’d keep up his theatrics that seemed to amuse Neville to no end, but on the other, he’d have to let go of his boyfriend’s hands, which was something he wasn’t willing to do. Neville, as always, resolved his qualm without a second thought: he playfully shoved Blaise away with a push from his hands, before pulling him back closer and making him crash against his torso. “Besides, it’s not like we’re not going to see each other before then! What did you say we would do again…?” Blaise saw right through his feeble attempt at distraction immediately: “Nope, I’m not going to tell you, it’s a surprise!” he exclaimed, placing a placating kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. He had already planned the entirety of their date since he found out the plant-head wouldn’t be free on his birthday: they’d start the day by having lunch at a Chinese restaurant Neville had particularly enjoyed and then they’d move to visit the Royal Botanic Gardens, allowing for them to spend the entire afternoon and evening there, since he already knew very well that his boyfriend would get distracted with every single leaf. And Blaise loved when Neville got side-tracked to talk about plants, even if he didn’t care about the ‘green things’ himself, so it would be a win-win. “Please, B, you know I don’t really like surprises!” he lamented, but Blaise was adamant on his position. “Mio caro, you’ll have to suffer then.” “You’re so mean to me.” Blaise kissed the tip of his nose once more, giggling at the way it involuntarily twitched under his lips: “Yeah, but you love me nevertheless.” What followed was a bad series of sloppy kisses and giggles shared between them as they walked in tandem next to the fireplace, miraculously avoiding tripping over furniture. They knew it was time for Neville to leave, but they were both incredibly reluctant to let go.

“Goodnight, then,” Blaise said, attempting without any real intent to put some space in between them, and he was almost immediately followed by Neville’s own: “Goodnight,” spoken directly against his lips as he removed his hands from around the Gryffindor’s torso, giving a little push to create some distance in between them. “I love you,” Neville sing-sang as he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, waiting for Blaise’s reply before disappearing into the Network. “I love you too, but go before your grandmother decides to murder me for keeping her grandson away from home all the time!”

And with that, Neville Longbottom had gone back home, leaving Blaise alone in the quiet apartment, his laugh still ringing clearly in his ears against the deafening silence. The place always seemed to lose its warmth as soon as his boyfriend left and so he shrugged on a jumper he had ‘borrowed’ from the Gryffindor, without his knowledge and without any real intent on giving it back.

He was not as naïve as Neville was sometimes, still believing that everything would be alright in spite of all the signs pointing to Hell, but he knew that they would be together even if the world did fall off its axis, and that thought warmed him more than any fire could.

And with that, plus the jumper, he tried to fall asleep, ignoring the way his heart pounded at the uncertainty of his future.

But, of one thing only he was certain: he’d stay by Neville’s side and he’d stay at his, no matter what.

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Until the End of the World - 10

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1801

Rating: E

Warnings: pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 10

The tabloid sites all latched on to the story of you being pregnant very quickly. Due to the fact you were often seen out with either Bucky or Steve or both, there had been speculation about who exactly you were. Theories went from dating one and cheating on them with the other. Being a ‘close family friend’. Dating one and the other being a close friend. Bouncing between them both like a ping-pong ball. Many fans speculated that they were polyamorous. Bucky had even made the mistake of going deep into the ‘Avengers fandom’ and discovered people doing what they called ‘shipping’ the three of you together. Not just the three of you but him and Steve with all kinds of people. He’d stopped looking when he saw people writing stories about him and Tony together. It turned out there were things he was better off not knowing.

None of the tabloids ever assumed polyamory though, and neither he nor Steve was going to confirm it for them. That made your pregnancy the subject of a lot of speculation. Whose baby was it? The most loved version of the story was that it was Bucky’s love child conceived while you were cheating on Steve with him.

It was a little stressful, but Bucky had heard worse. There was still a vocal majority that considered him a threat that should have been tried for his crimes years ago. Bucky had learned a long time ago not to google himself unless he was feeling particularly self-destructive. You, on the other hand, were still learning, so it took some reassuring that this matter was no one else's business.

Besides the ever-present gossip mill, things were going well. Every doctor's appointment showed that the baby was developing well. All the tests you had were coming back fine. You seemed to be full of energy and Geo was starting to get excited about the idea of having a little brother or sister. The new place was nearly finished. Bucky hadn’t been sent on a mission for a long time. He felt happy - and that was a feeling he liked to experience as fully as he could because he knew from experience how fleeting it could be.

The three of you had decided to take Geo along to the ultrasound where you’d be finding out the sex. He had only seen pictures of the baby so far and you’d thought he might like to see them moving around and find out if he was having a brother or a sister. According to you, the baby was kicking a lot at the moment, so you weren't worried about bad news being delivered.

Geo sat on Bucky’s lap while Steve sat beside you, holding your hand as the technician squeeze the gel onto your stomach. “Have they been kicking much?” Brown asked as she began to move the wand around on your stomach. Bucky looked up at the screen, waiting for the baby to come into view.

You smiled and nodded. “So much. The little nugget is going to be a fighter.”

Brown smiled. “Just like it’s dads, huh?” She said. “Has anyone else felt the kicks?”

“Not yet,” Steve answered. “I can’t wait though.”

The baby came into view on the screen. You’d been getting pretty regular ultrasounds with your checkups and Bucky liked how the little blob was getting bigger and looking more like a baby every time. “It shouldn’t be too much longer. I’d bet by the end of the week you get a little flutter against your hand.”

Steve looked at Bucky and grinned and Bucky couldn’t help but lean over and peck his lips. Geo didn’t seem that happy with the action and he wriggled in Bucky’s lap. Bucky chuckled and pulled back. “Can you see the baby, G?” He asked, pointing at the screen.

Geo nodded. “The machine is really cool how it works. It’s using sound to make the shape of the baby inside mom.”

“That’s right,” Brown said. “You’re a smart kid.”

Geo looked up at Bucky and grinned obviously very proud of himself. Bucky smiled and ruffled his hair.

“If you see here,” Brown said. “This is the baby's head, and their spine. They have hands and feet and you can even see their toes and fingers…”

Geo watched on fascinated by the digital image of his new sibling. Not just because that was his new sibling, but because he had a scientific fascination with where it was developmentally and how the machines could show what they show. He asked lots of questions about whether it could hear or see and how it absorbed food. Bucky couldn’t really remember what kids were like, and so he had no idea if this was advance thinking for a seven-year-old or not. He felt like it was advanced though, and he made a mental note to ask you later.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Geo asked.

“I can find out,” the tech said. “Is that okay, Captain Rogers?”

Steve chuckled. “It’s not just my decision to make.”

Brown hid her face behind her hands for a moment and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, that is such a default reaction.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said. “Please just relax. We’re just patients. And yes, we already decided we wanted to find out.”

She moved the wand around to get it into position. “Well, bud,” Brown said. “Did you have a preference?”

“I dunno,” Geo said. “I don’t have either.”

“Well you don’t have a brother,” Brown said. “You’re going to have a little sister.”

“It’s a girl?” Bucky asked, looking over at you and Steve to see your reactions. Steve looked like he’d been lit up from the inside, and tears had pricked your eyes.

“That’s right. It’s a girl,” Brown confirmed.

“A little girl,” Steve said, softly.

“Now we have one of each,” Bucky said, and Geo turned around on Bucky’s lap and hugged him. Bucky closed his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly. “You’re gonna be such a good big brother,” Bucky whispered as he hugged the boy.

“Do you want any pictures this time?” Brown asked.

“Yes, please,” you said, quickly.

Brown cleaned off the paddle and pressed the button to print out the photos of the baby. You grabbed some kleenex from the counter and cleaned the gel off your stomach. “You think Morgan will be excited there’s going to be another little girl around?” Steve asked Geo.

“Probably,” Geo said. “As long as she likes robots too. Umm… you think the baby will be able to talk to the computers like I can?”

Steve furrowed his brow as he helped you up. Bucky shook his head to clear it. It was strange, despite the fact that Geo had powers that he’d clearly gotten from you, and the fact both he and Steve had the Super Serum, the thought of a super-powered baby had never really crossed their minds. It was like all that was just such a normal part of their lives now, they didn’t really think about how it impacted things. You didn’t have powers and it was possible the only reason Geo did was that both you and his father had been through experimentation so close to his conception. It could be that those drugs were now completely out of your system, but no one had thought to look into that first.

“You know what?” Steve said eventually. “I don’t know.”

“Probably should have considered that before we dived in with both feet, huh?” You said.

“You could ask your obstetrician about doing an amniocentesis,” Brown suggested. “Then they could do a genetic workup. Check for abnormalities.”

“Don’t they have risks involved?” You asked.

“Sure, but normally it’s one of those things where there are risks involved either way, and you decide which outcome is worse,” Brown explained.

You furrowed your brow and nodded and Bucky wondered what you were thinking. “Thank you, Miss Brown,” Steve said. “We’ll see you next time.”

“Of course,” she said, brightly. “See you.”

The four of you walked out into the ward and headed to the elevator. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” Geo said as the doors opened.

“You didn’t, G. Don’t worry,” you assured him, kissing the top of his head. “It’s just not something we thought about when we probably should have. Because you got your powers from me and your birth dad, but Bucky and Steve have their own powers.”

“Well, we’re enhanced,” Steve corrected them. “Not the same as what you have.”

“I think…” Bucky said slowly, aware that this was not a discussion that should be held in front of Geo, but also knowing that the boy needed to be reassured that his powers were not a negative, nor would he be losing the sister he really only just met. “I think it might be too late to worry about. I mean… what if they do find out the baby is enhanced? It’s not like we would love them any less, or not want them. They’d just be special, like Geo.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “We would have done this either way I think.”

“So… let’s just wait and see. We don’t want to risk anything bad happening,” Bucky said. “The baby looks normal, so we know it’s not a tentacle beast.”

Geo started laughing. “That would be so cool.”

“She might not be able to talk to computers even if she does have powers though, G,” you said, stifling your own laugh. “When I had powers I could hear people’s thoughts. And your dad, he could run really fast.”

“Wow,” Geo said. “I hope she can fly.”

“Oh my goodness,” you said. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, imagine having to change a diaper on a baby and it’s zooming around over your head,” Bucky said, making Geo breakdown into fits of giggles.

“Alright, Geo,” Steve said. “You go wash up and we’ll have some lunch. Do you want to see if Morgan can come to play and you can tell her all about your sister?”

“Yeah, alright,” Geo said, running off to the bathroom.

Steve turned to you and Bucky and took your hands. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “We can face whatever happens, I know we can.”

“Let’s just hope they can’t fly,” you joked.

“We’ll handle that too,” Steve said.

“Yeah, we’ll put a little harness on them, and weigh them down with rocks,” Bucky joked and you burst out laughing.

Steve wrapped his arms around you and pulled Bucky in close so that all three of you were holding each other. Bucky closed his eyes and breathed you both in, confident that together, you could all handle whatever powers she may or may not have.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #until the end of the world

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abarbaricyalp · 4 years ago

Note

prompt idea - sam/steve/bucky

bucky and steve start calling sam by 40s pet names as a joke but sam discovers he actually likes it but doesn’t know how to tell them.

Hello! Sorry this took so long (vampire anon, that's also taking so long but it is also being so long. I haven't forgotten about it. I just love vampires)

Read on AO3 under the same title by ElisabethMonroe

An Incomplete Dream

As with all things that vexed him, Sam Wilson’s newest problem was started by Bucky Barnes.

“Stevie, don’t he look like the most perfect picture of angelface?” Bucky asked, turning away from Sam, though his metal fingers didn’t loosen around Sam’s wrists, which he was holding over Sam’s head.

Steve looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, even without having to look at Sam. “He sure does, Buck,” he agreed and finished pulling his shirt off over his head.

“Angelface?” Sam asked, just to antagonize Bucky.

Bucky shifted over Sam, ground his thigh a little closer to Sam’s groin. Never close enough to give any real friction, just the teasing promise of more to come. It was about the only time Bucky had any self control, when Steve was around to tell them not to have too much fun without him. And Steve, unfortunately, managed to have the patience of a fucking saint when it meant it got Sam and Bucky harder than sin.

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky purred, dropped his face to Sam’s neck to trail his mouth along his skin. Sam would pretend like that was what had his legs falling open. The kissing and not the words. “Means you look like somethin’ Heaven sent.”

“That’s heavy,” Steve said, reappearing from the bathroom in briefs that Sam was pretty sure he’d bought him. Or maybe they were just Sam’s. “But not wrong,” he added as he climbed into the bed and straddled Sam’s hips. Bucky shifted too, staying out of Steve’s way but continuing to hold Sam’s wrists down. Sam pouted up at him. Bucky ignored him and leaned over to kiss Steve instead.

“How ‘bout you give your angel something to work with?” Sam suggested eventually, pouting out his lower lip again. Steve leaned down to kiss it away.

“Good morning, dollface,” Bucky greeted the next morning. Steve looked up from his newspaper with a fond grin. Sam tilted his head to offer his cheek for their mandatory morning kisses. Bucky skipped his cheek and went for his neck, an arm draping over Sam’s shoulder to run his hand down Sam’s bare chest.

“You haven’t said dollface in a while,” Steve said and brought his coffee up to his lips.

“You ain’t got one no more,” Bucky said. Sam could feel him look up from his nook in Sam’s neck and Sam could only imagine the look he was throwing Steve.

“What happened to angelface?” Sam asked.

“Liked that one, huh?” Bucky said. He kissed Sam’s cheek and went off in search of breakfast.

“They’re all corny,” Sam said. It wasn’t really a lie. They were corny. He was allowed to like corny things.

Steve hooked his foot on the back of Sam’s ankle and it took all Sam had not to visibly react. It was insane that they could still have this effect on him. “Don’t be mean, dollface,” he drolled with the same easy grin he’d shot Bucky.

Sam sprawled over the breakfast bar, cheeks burning. He heard Bucky laugh.

“Steve!” Sam yelped and hurried to the stove to get a pot off the burner before all the water boiled over. “I gave you one job.”

Steve looked sheepish and he shrugged helplessly as he gestured to a bowl he was mixing some kind of cake batter in. “It was either the noodles or the cake. I know which one Bucky would prefer to get done.”

Sam rolled his eyes and bumped his hip into Steve's as he carried the pot to the sink to drain it. “He may say he wants the cake more, but we both know he puts carbs away like he’ll never eat again.”

For a second, the realization that it may very well be a survival instinct for him settled over the both of them. Then Steve shook his head and crammed himself into the corner, trying and failing very hard to be small.

“Hey, sugar, can you grab me the sugar?” he laughed.

Sam rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Corny, Rogers. So damn corny.” But he got the sugar and passed it over. He was not surprised when Steve caught him around the waist, spinning him in a lazy dance even though the oven and stove were both still on and he hadn’t so much as measured out his sugar.

“He's special ration,” Steve sang, twirling them around a kitchen not designed for it. “Funny, he never asks for my money. All that I give him is honey. And that he can spend any time.”

Sam looked up when the door opened, but Steve didn’t even stumble, so Sam got Bucky’s bemused expression all to himself.

“I'd make a million trips to his lips, if I were a bee. Because he's sweeter than chocolate candy to me. He's confectionery, that sugar baby of mine.”

“It’s my birthday but you’re serenading him?” Bucky asked, cutting in between them to wrap his arms around Sam’s waist, picking up on the dance like he’d started it.

“You don’t call me dollface anymore,” Steve said with a shrug. He turned back to his cake and Sam dropped his face to Bucky’s shoulder. They swayed slightly, taking small steps now and again, pasta forgotten for now.

“Yeah, Sam’s my new dollface and he gets to give me my gift first.”

“Do I, now? And you know what that gift is, I’m assuming.”

“Sure I do,” Bucky said. He reached for a red bow that had been left on the breakfast bar and smacked it onto Sam’s shoulder. Sam was just about to make a joke when Bucky peeled it off and put it on the waistband of Sam’s pants instead. “Sounds like you’ve got a little sweetness to spare, sugar,” he purred and pulled him back towards the couch.

Steve could handle pasta and cake at the same time, Sam decided. And if he couldn’t...at least they’d have dessert.

Sam turned over in bed and opened his eyes to find Bucky already looking at him, sleepy and only half awake. One of the best ways for him to be, Sam thought.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, reaching over to brush a curl back into the mop on Bucky’s head.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured back. Sam felt his stomach curl in on itself in elation. It was a little painful, but Sam was realizing most of his reactions to Bucky and Steve were adoration and pain in equal measure sometimes.

“Think Steve’s gonna be out of it all morning?” Sam asked.

Bucky’s mouth curled to the side. “He did take a robot to the side of the head,” he pointed out. “I ain’t seen him bruise like that since he was little.”

Sam grimaced in sympathy for Steve. He had been pretty banged up the night before. He really should’ve been with med, but of course he wasn’t. Of course he was in bed instead, having to sleep with his back to Sam and Bucky because he couldn’t sleep on his right side. Sam shifted over, supporting himself on his elbow, to look over his shoulder at Steve’s sleeping figure.

“The swelling’s already half down,” he said, turning back over in time for Bucky to kiss his forearm. “He better sleep until it’s almost all healed.”

“Hopefully,” Bucky agreed, kissing up his arm to his wrist. “You’re a sweetheart for worrying,” he said pointedly.

“I didn’t argue last time you said it,” Sam laughed softly. He freed his hand from where he’d tucked it under his pillow, and Bucky kissed his palm and then along his fingers.

“I just like saying it. Sweetheart. It was my favorite back in the day.”

“Back when you had game?” Sam asked.

Bucky growled playfully, leaning over to nip at Sam’s lips, sleep still making their movements and words slow and languid. “I’ve got plenty of game. I’ve got the two most beautiful men in the world in my bed every night. But, nah. I never used it on dames. Not like this. This is all yours and Steve’s.”

“Why not?” Sam asked, pushing his fingers through the hair curling around Bucky’s ear.

“‘Cause it’s what Sarah used to call me and Steve. I don’t wanna use it on anyone I don’t fully love,” Bucky said, like it was simple, obvious, not world shattering.

Sam fell into Bucky, kissing him between whispers of sweetheart.

The antiseptic of hospitals always set Sam on edge. When he was thirteen and his grandmother had gotten sick, he’d lost count of the nights he’d spent in hospital rooms and waiting areas. He still clearly remembered a doctor walking into one waiting room to talk to a family near Sam’s. He remembered the blood on the doctor’s pant leg and the sudden rush of mortality that hit him all at once.

Being in pararescue meant he spent a good chunk of his service time in and out of hospitals too. Not necessarily for himself or Riley, though that was a cause too, but just to do his job. Put people in beds, continue field triage, check in on patients who didn’t have anyone else. Even in the desert, that smell filled the air.

Tonight, it creeped beneath his skin too, even though he was half running through the halls, even though there were bandages around his head, even though he was pretty sure he had serious sinus damage under his broken nose. He knew what the hospital smelled like.

The only thing that stopped him was a thick arm around his chest, as gentle as could be given the circumstances, though it still hurt like a bitch. It didn’t stop him grasping for the door handle. “Bucky,” he gasped out, ribs and lung both protesting, fingernails scratching futilely at the arm around him.

“Hang on, Sam. Just wait a second,” Steve said, reaching for his waist instead of his chest with a muttered apology. Sam couldn’t remember reacting, giving himself away. Maybe Steve had just gotten his med eval.

“I need to see him. They wouldn’t say anything. I had him, I was holding him,” he insisted. “I didn’t drop him.”

“Sam,” Steve breathed and finally managed to turn Sam’s wild eyes from the door to his own face. “Do you have a concussion?” Probably, but Sam didn’t know for sure to say. “You were shot down. You didn’t let go of him.”

Sam blinked up at Steve and it felt like it took ten years. “No. I saw… I saw him fall…”

Steve shook his head, brought his hands up to either side of Sam’s face. When his eyes flickered over Sam’s shoulder, Sam finally clocked all of the doctors in the hall, people saying his name, someone reaching for his arm before Steve shooed them away gently.

“You both fell, Sam. You need to be in a hospital bed too. I can’t believe you’re walking, Jesus.”

“Just me,” Sam said weakly. “I hear the resemblance is uncanny.” It was Bucky’s joke and the fact that he wasn’t here to make it had terror clutching at Sam’s heart again. “Please let me see him. I can’t stand this image in my head.”

Steve’s hands were gentle on his face, but relentless. Sam couldn’t turn back to the door.

“What’s wrong with him? Why aren’t you letting me in? Why aren’t you by his side?” he whimpered, hands coming up to clutch at Steve’s wrists.

“He’s not awake,” Steve said.

“They knocked him out? How?”

Steve’s features seemed to all screw in pain. “No. He was in and out of consciousness himself. He hasn’t woken up since the last time.”

“Oh my God, is he dead?” Sam cried, then swayed on his feet with the sudden cold blood rush.

“No, no, Sam, no. He’s not dead,” Steve assured and pulled Sam into his chest to hug him as tightly as gentleness and care would allow. “He’s just unconscious.”

“Let me in. Let me see him,” Sam said again. “Even if he isn’t awake. I just need--” His face fell to Steve’s shoulder as exhaustion caught up to him.

“Can we get a bed…?” Steve asked quietly like his mouth wasn’t right next to Sam’s head. But maybe he had the right idea because there was an ensuing conversation that Sam missed entirely.

The next time he clocked in, Steve was laying him down in a hospital bed. There was a cloth divider, but Sam knew the sound of Bucky breathing. He was so close. Steve tucked Sam’s arm back under the blanket when Sam reached over.

“Hey, easy, angel. Just try to sleep, okay? They’ll get your IVs reset.”

“I had IVs?” Sam asked and hated how his voice slurred.

“Oh, yeah. You took them all out. Very well, by the way. You’re hardly bleeding.”

Sam had put enough of them into other people, he thought he should know how to get them back out. Even concussed.

“You’re just gonna have to settle for me for now,” Steve said when Sam looked over at Bucky’s side again. He settled in a chair that was too small for him and held onto the hand Sam had freed again, keeping it firmly on the bed.

“I don’t settle for you,” Sam muttered. “Just wanna see him.”

“I know, angel. Just go to sleep. You’ll see him in a few hours.”

A few hours was sixteen, as it turned out. “What the hell is this?” Sam heard as he fought against the grit behind his eyelids. “Even national icons--incredibly dangerous assassins even--can’t get their own room?”

Sam sat up, swayed, and had to put his hands on the bed to keep himself upright. At the end of the partition, Sam saw Steve see him, saw a grin pull at his tired face. “Nah, Buck. You just had a gentleman caller last night. I had to keep him in the living room for a while,” he joked. Sam didn’t get it. Well, maybe he did. But he didn’t want to fight through the pulsing stuffing in his head to figure it out.

Steve stepped over to him, helped him stand, offered a wheelchair. “I don’t need a damn wheelchair. I hit my head, not my legs,” Sam snapped, though it came out soft and whiny.

“You hit everything,” Steve said.

But it didn’t matter, because Sam could see the figure in the next bed over shoot upright too. “A gentleman caller?” Bucky said. “Was he handsome?”

“Well, I think so,” Steve said as he helped get Sam’s arm around his shoulders. “I’d take him home with me. You’re lucky I was so patient as to give you a chance to save your date.”

Bucky laughed and Sam just about collapsed at the sound. “Trust me, I could win any gentleman caller back from you.”

“Sure you could, Buck,” Steve said. Finally they started moving around the curtain partition and finally Sam got to see Bucky. They had matching head bandages and there were plenty more creeping out of the paper shirt he was in.

It was a good thing Steve was holding him up because Sam’s knees went out from under him. Steve gently deposited him on the bed and Bucky and he fell together, bandages pressed to bandages as foreheads found resting places together.

“Sammy,” Bucky breathed and brought taped fingers up to Sam’s cheek, his jaw, his lips, his chin. The metal arm was disconnected and Sam wondered if it had been damaged too. “I was so fucking scared. I saw you fall--”

“No,” Sam insisted again. “That’s what they said last night too. But I saw you--” he started.

“No, you fell first,” Bucky said. “You put yourself under me.”

Steve’s fingers rubbed at the back of Sam’s neck. “Told you. You didn’t drop him.”

“Nah,” Bucky agreed. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut was gleaming with fondness and adoration. “A perfect gentleman, you were. My gentleman caller.”

Sam let out a shaky breath and held his hand over Bucky’s chest, just to feel his heartbeat.

“Hey, doll, will you give me the controller?” Steve asked. Sam barely looked up from his phone, only adjusted his feet on the coffee table to give Bucky the room he’d need to hand over the remote.

Steve’s toes dug into Sam’s thigh and Sam lifted his leg enough to get Steve’s toes under him. But then he kept squirming until Sam finally looked up with an unheated glare. “Do you need something?” he asked.

“Yeah, the controller,” Steve said again. “Jeez, you mad at me for something, angel?” he asked.

“No? Why would I be?”

“I’ve asked you twice now for the controller and you haven’t moved.”

“You didn’t ask me. I figured Bucky was getting it.”

Steve’s face crumbled in confusion before a wry grin cut over it. “Where do you think Bucky is?”

Sam looked over at the weird egg shaped chair Bucky liked to curl up in. It was empty. So was the kitchen and the loveseat that was too short for any of them to actually lay on but Bucky liked to do it anyway.

“He left, like, an hour ago,” Steve said. “I asked you.”

“But...you said doll. You only ever call Bucky doll.”

“Do I?” Steve asked.

“Up until this moment, yeah,” Sam said, feeling a little embarrassed and heated.

Steve freed his feet so he could get his knees under him and lean over to Sam. “Well,” he said, kissing Sam’s jaw, “consider this me granting you the pet name too,” he murmured. “I like to use it when I’m undeniably happy. And you make me undeniably happy.”

“You’re full of shit,” Sam laughed, pushing Steve’s face away. “You call him doll in every argument you’ve ever had in front of me.”

Steve shrugged. “It wears him down faster than logic.”

Sam got the appeal. “Do it again.”

Steve grinned. “Make me, doll,” he breathed.

Sam leaned over to kiss him.

“Can we talk about something?” Sam asked finally. The words just fell out of his mouth. It was certainly not the ideal moment he was thinking about waiting for. Steve was reorganizing their colognes on the large chest-of-drawers, even though Bucky was just going to mess it all up again in the morning, and Bucky was doing situps on the floor in sweatpants that he kept taking out of the trash when Sam tried to throw them away.

“Sure, darlin’,” Bucky said, sounding like a sin all breathless and Brooklyn. He sat up and braced his elbow on the side of the bed. “What’s up?”

“Actually,” Sam started and rubbed at his elbow, “that’s what I wanted to talk about.” When Steve and Bucky pulled the same confused expression, Sam moved to the bed and sat down on it. His heart just about burst when both of them moved to sit by him. Steve took a hand in his and Bucky rubbed at his thigh.

“It’s stupid alright. You don’t have to worry like this,” he said and felt a little bit of the tension melt off of his partners. “It’s just...you know, when Bucky first started the whole pet name thing, it was a joke, right? You were just teasing me,” he said.

“Was I?” Bucky asked. Steve pinched his side behind Sam’s back.

“And that was fine,” Sam assured. “I liked it. I like seeing you two smile ‘cause of it. Like that you found a way to bring stuff from back then to now with you.”

“Does it...make you uncomfortable?” Steve asked. And Sam could almost see him try to figure out if there was something offensive in a name like angel.

“No, that’s not… I just… Recently it’s become...heavier, I guess? It feels like it means more.”

“Again, are we sure I was taking the piss out of you before?” Bucky repeated. Steve pinched him again.

“I just wanna know what it means, is all. Because...I really like it. I like it every time you say it. Every single one of them.”

“Angel,” Steve and Bucky said at the same time. Sam shuddered enough to jar his shoulder against Steve’s.

“Shit, you do like it,” Bucky said.

“Are you asking… Are you worried about more than just the pet names?” Steve asked. “Like...are you asking how serious we all are?”

Sam’s fingers tightened around Steve’s hand. He hoped he wasn’t hurting him because he wasn’t sure he could make his fingers unclasp at that point. “It’s this thing between the two of you. These names and stuff. I ain’t heard no one call someone doll since my friend’s great-grandparents renewed their vows when I was a kid. And don’t even get me started on darling. Not the way you two say it. You mean it.

“And I didn’t know how I fit into that. It felt like you were testing out how I fit with the two of you,” he finally admitted. He wanted the words to lift the constriction out of his chest. Instead, it just lifted it to his throat so he could barely keep on talking. “I thought maybe I liked it a lot more than the two of you did,” he said, not talking about the names anymore, not really. “And I was scared you’d give up. But then it got serious, right? And I had to try’n figure out what was going on. So...what is going on?”

“Oh, Sammy,” Bucky breathed and wrapped an arm around Sam’s middle to hug him. “It’s been dead-serious since the moment it started,” he said. “It’s not goin’ nowhere. Not the names and damn sure not me.”

“Of course it’s serious,” Steve agreed, pressing his forehead to Sam’s temple. “We haven’t ever tried to fit you into anything. You already do fit everywhere. It was something we were missing before you. Not a space we rearranged for you.”

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, tried to laugh it out but the tears were evident in it.

“And if you were gonna panic about pet names this much,” Bucky added, because he always knew how to make Sam laugh and break the tension. “You shoulda worked on not having such a perfect angelface.”

Sam did laugh.

“Lucky you got angelface,” Steve said on his other side, putting his arms around Sam’s waist too. “Apparently you can lose the dollface designation.”

Sam laughed again and clutched at the arms around him. “Alright, my loves,” he said and felt something tremor through both of the other men. This was a two way street. “You can call me anything you want as long as you kiss me right after.”

“Sure, angel,” Bucky said.

“Anything you want, doll,” Steve agreed.

He got a kiss on either cheek. And then many, many more afterwards.

#sambucky #stevesam #all caps #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #writing #i answer things

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taurusart07 · 3 years ago

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The Savior of Fire

Hi guys, this is my first time posting a fic I did for the @grishaversebigbang. I had so much fun making this adventure with mu OCs and I was really happy of working with talented artists who showed the same passion for my characters as I did.

Summary: After many reports of Grisha caravans with newly foundling (children) recruits are being raided by mercenaries or even undercover Druskelle. Grisha soldier Dimitri Alexand rov (OC), gets assigned with the mission of finding these missing children and the ones responsible for their kidnapping.

Materialki: @awtetsuya27 (https://awtetsuya27.tumblr.com/post/661317187569614848/story-the-savior-of-fire-by-taurusart07-link)

@yourpancakefulness (https://yourpancakefulness.tumblr.com/post/661319128844500992/dimitri-wanted-to-leave-something-to-commemorate)

Soon to be on AO3.

For now here’s a link to the finished docs if you want to read now.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NQDnS1Ul9Y-p6RdNKpEk7G6MMsLMv1p_LBEPwpVPtlM/edit?usp=sharing

Chapter 1:

Even at his worst, being around fire was always a comfort for Dimitri. Knowing he could take control of the situation surrounded by his element calmed his nerves. And even before he discovered he was a Grisha Inferni, he found comfort looking at the flame of a candle or getting lost in the dancing blazes of a fireplace.

When the Grisha examiners arrived at his small farm near Ryevost to find out about his nature, Dimitri was both excited and sad about going to live at the Little palace. For once he was ready to embrace his abilities and serve his country. But also, he felt bad for leaving his mother alone. After the loss of his father she was all he had left. However the Grisha assured him she would be safe if he left. He knew the risks, many enemy spies roamed the lands and could be on the hunt for Grisha at any time.

Time passed, and the Ravkan Civil war had ended with The Drakling’s death. Afterwards the second army was reformed and the Etherealki order was now led by General Soya Nasyalensy. Now there was more activity of Grisha helping through the war, getting along with the Otkazat’sya and the first army made the war effort much easier. But the enemy kept resisting. More missions began to be assigned to small grisha groups, and no one was more enthusiastic about it than Dimitri.

“Why are you so eager to leave the Little Palace to the front lines?” Asked a young Grisha Squaller.

“Because,” Began Dimitri shoving his messy dark curly hair aside. “It’s been too long since I’ve been here. I want to see some action. Something I can prove myself” The squaller looked at him doubtfully, but of course, no one really understood Dimitri.

He walked down the halls of the Little palace, towards the training grounds, where his instructor was waiting for him. For the greater part of his last year, Dimitri hadn’t really done full extense sessions of training, since his incident in the mountains of Petrazoi near Ryevost. On a recon mission. Dimitri had fallen deep into a cave where he was sure there was no way he was gonna get out of there alive, for he heard a fierce snarl come from the darkness of the cave. A wolf happened to land there as well, and at that moment that quiet cave became a battlefield for survival. Dimitri spent quite some time fighting off the wolf. his fire was not strong since his strength was quickly taken away by the constant struggle of keeping the predator’s fangs away from him.

After intense hours fighting off the animal, Dimitri came out triumphant, seriously injured but he had managed to kill the Wolf. And once he did, he found out that this animal was an amplifier. Not like the sacred amplifiers Morozova created, but a natural one. At first, Dimitri wasn’t sure if he should take on its bones to merge with them, but when he wanted to check on it. He had a vision, It was almost as other Grisha with amplifiers described them. Right in front of the dead wolf, Dimitri saw a luminescent copy of the animal, bowing to him, out of respect.

Hours after that, the rescue team arrived, and Dimitri’s injuries had to be taken care of at the little palace, so he requested them to take the dead wolf with him, and told them about its nature. The healers tended his wounds and suggested him rest since the bites of the wolf had been quite deep, some scratches in his torso and back would also take some time to heal properly.

It had been nearly a year since that day, and during that year he felt incompetent by having these bambraces made out of the bones of the wolf, and not be able to push himself once more. But all that has changed now.

“Are you ready to try this Dimitri?” Asked Oleg, an experienced Inferni trainer who began mentoring Dimitri from his first day at the little palace. Dimitri gave a silent nod and thus his teacher began an easy attack on him, something he could fend off. But to Dimitri, this felt too easy. With just a single hand gesture and his fists he managed to effortlessly push the incoming fire away from him. Another burst of flames were thrown at him, and without struggle he managed to dodge and even redirect some of the fire into Oleg. Now it was his turn to attack. His dark, almost coal colored gloves with red embroidery ready, and his mind focusing on trying to use the enhancement of his amplifier. He launched forward and threw a massive explosion of iridescent red and yellow sparks right to Oleg. His teacher managed to evade the attack with an impressive jump and still maintained a regal posture, as he dismissed the fire around him, clearing up the arena.

“It seems you haven't lost any condition. And your technique has improved” Regarded Oleg “I’m quite impressed, your amplifier has indeed enhanced the heat on your fire as well, though you still need to work on precision”

Dimitri Couldn’t expect more. Even though the healers had told him that he needed rest, and very moderate training, the truth was that inside his room there was none of it. He continued on with his training in complete silence and without anyone's knowledge of it. His fires had to be very low in size if he didn’t want to light up the entire little palace. Once again he began to send flames towards his mentor. As he kept on, the enhancement of the amplifier began to settle in with Dimitri’s will.

Oleg started to give him more demanding shots of fire, seeing that Dimitri wasn’t so rusty at all. He sent out a gigantic wave of flames, only to distract him, and get closer to engage in hand in hand combat. Dimitri managed to block some of the attacks as they began to get more and more constant, not giving him time to pack a punch at Oleg, or even stunt him or get him out of his way. His feet almost reached the edge of the arena, when he decided to pull out a trick he invented on his secret sessions. It required minimal movement, but a great deal of concentration. As he kept Blocking Oleg from taking him off the limits of the arena. “You ready to give it a rest boy?” Teased Oleg.

Dimitri began to feel the heat accumulating in his forearms and hands, however he did not feel any pain, unlike Oleg, who was rapidly disengaged once the heat hurt him enough.

“Looks like you learned some tricks on your own” Said Oleg, surprised.

“It wasn’t so hard, and as you can see it doesn’t require much mobility” Explained Dimitri, worried he would get in trouble for not following strict instructions from the Healers.

“Regardless,” Added Oleg, taking off his gloves, and shoving away the sweat on his slightly wrinkles forehead, “You should've at least told someone, in case anything happened” He dismissed Dimitri, and let him join his fellow comrades, who were impressed by the skill he showed at the arena, and was asked to show them how to do that trick.

“It’s not gonna be that useful, don’t you think?” Said one of the older Inferni. “We barely get into hand to hand fighting. Most Druskelle I’ve encountered had been reduced to ashes before getting near me” He bragged. Dimitri did not take his opinion at all, since he was always told by Oleg to always expect the worst of a situation and no to rely always on his power. Dimitri left the Training grounds on his own. He mostly didn’t hang out with many of his own, just with Pyotr, another inferni who he grew close to after they both were taken under the mentroy of Oleg. As he reached the halls of the palace. He was first planning on going to his room and getting some rest, cause even though he had not lost his edge, he definitely lost some resistance, however that would not stop him. Going past the library he saw some young durasts studying on some books, furthermore he was about to get to his room, when he got caught by an old familiar voice.

“Dimitri!'' It was his old life time friend Pyotr, he was sporting his typical blue kefta with spiky red embroidery on it. His hair was much larger than he remembered. And his light fair skin was covered with some minor scars obtained at the battlefield. He ran towards his friend and partner in crime, and embraced him with a hug. They hadn't seen each other for almost a year, since most inferni were sent to the front lines along with the Heartrenders and the first army. When Pyotr and the rest got orders to leave, Dimitri was barely tended by the healers after the encounter at the cave.

“It’s been so long my friend,” Said Dimitri “How are things on the Fjerdan front line?” He asked. They constantly received reports every other night, however the casualties were hardly named, and the letters he received from his best friend told so little.

“Well… Pretty intense as you can see'' Answered Pyotr, pointing at his scars on his face “Fortunately they’re not gonna get permanent… But yes, things are tough. The Fjerdans are getting more brutal, even with our strengths combined, both armies are barely resisting” he said.

“Then why are you here?” Asked Dimitri.

“To escort you,”His friend answered.

What? Thought Dimitri . “Where?”

“Just come with me. Trust me.” Said Pyotr, taking Dimitri back to the halls, without giving any more details on where they were going. But he had to trust his lifelong friend, just as he always did.

When Dimitri Finally arrived he was completely out of words. Right inside of a rounded dark room illuminated by bright lights, was the Triumvirate in front of him. Genya Saffin leader of the Corporalki and talented tailor, David Kostyk master fabrikator and head of the Materialki, and lastly the fierce and only Zoya Nasyalensky General of the etherealki. Among them were many more Grisha commanders and lieutenants discussing the war effort.

“Is it Him?” asked General Zoya to Pyotr. Dimitri remembered reading some letters of his friend about how sometimes they were saved by Zoya and her powerful winds and storms she summoned. However he did not expect to have direct contact with her, with any of the triumvirate. Pyotr nodded to her and so Dimitri walked forward trying to not show his excitement and fear by being in the presence of his leaders.

“Dimitri Alexandrov, at your service. Grisha inferni, former member of the seventh regiment.” His answer sounded as if he were reading it outloud in front of a class. Some Grisha in the crowd found his answer funny and some looked doubtful at him. “Former member?” Questioned Zoya.

“I had an incident a year ago,” Explained Dimitri. “Ever since that I’ve been on break. But I’m more than ready to be back in the field, I swear” It was true. The least he wanted was to be back in his room training in complete silence. He wanted to hear the roar of his fires.

“I’m not sending you to the battlefield,” She began. Her deep black hair hanging on her sides and her blue kefta shimmered with the lights. “There have been some events across the country that concern us,” What could she possibly be talking about?. Dimitri just kept his mouth silent and let her explain. “As some of the guards have informed. The caravans of examiners that went to the first near cities have not arrived and It’s been long since they left the palace in order to find new grisha among children” Informed Zoya. “Only a wounded squaller managed to arrive at the palace yesterday. He claims their caravan had been raided by unknown enemies, who took the children captive, and killed our Grisha brothers and sisters.”

Thoughts of his past began to run through Dimitri’s head, Of how they prick his arm to reveal his inferni powers, of his arrival at the little palace, and his first training lessons with Oleg, along with Pyotr. If what Zoya said was true, then children just like he once was, were not only taken away from their families but from their future, as a soldier, and as a Grisha. People like Dimitri were still not seen with the best intentions around the world. The Fjerdans burned Grisha at the stake, while the Shu dedicated extensive experiments on them. Ketterdam wasn’t a good place either, for they were mostly sold out as indentures for the wealthiest merchants. But children offered something more to those countries. The Shu might try to dissect their living bodies to further investigations, and the Fjerdans might even want to try out the dangerous drug, Jurda Perm on them, as for the ketterdam businesses, those children without the dominion of their powers, may just as well be slaves or even delight se the carnal desires of sick old men around that treacherous city.

“As for what our records show, the examiner parties we’ve sent out have been to the south, from Sikursk, Caryeva, Keramzim, Kribirsk, and the west to Os Kervo, and their near villages and farms” Said Zoya, showing everything she explained on a three dimensional map, of all ravka and the north and south borders. It was still not big enough to fill the entire table, as the pieces had connections like a puzzle that Dimitri guessed were pieces of the other countries.

“Just yesterday we sent out a crew towards Ryevost, and another to Balakirev” Said Genya, her soft voice filled the entire room, and it was quite hard for Dimitri to not look at her eyepatch, a symbol of what happened to her at the civil war.

“Which means they should be arriving there by now, and the parties heading north still have to report on arrival” she continued. “We need to find out who are these captors, if they’re druskelle or mercenaries after a high price on Grisha children”

“Will you do that, Dimitri?” Asked Zoya out of nowhere. Dimitri has always expected an assignment, he just didn’t expect it to be of such importance.

“You want me to look for these children?” He asked, the question was pretty dumb of his part, but his mind still hung over the task he had ahead”

“I’ve heard that you kept asking for open assignments the whole year, even with your condition in mind” Said Zoya. “Also a fellow comrade of yours spoke fondly of your determination, and aptitude for this job” She glanced subtly at Pyotr. “You must assemble a team with Grisha in which you can put your whole trust on this job, You are expected to leave tomorrow at dawn” She said finally, heading towards distance, to hand him an archive with the details of his first mission after a very long time.

“I will not let you down, General” Said Dimitri, “I'll find those kids and bring them home” He said as he was Dismissed by Zoya. He began wondering how he could carry such a test on himself, he wondered who he would contact to join him. As he left the room, walking through the halls, Pyotr intercepted him, congratulating him for receiving such an important job. “It won’t be easy” said Pyotr, “You'll definitely need one or two Heartrenders, and possibly another etherealki”

“I know just one who can come with me,'' said Dimitri, looking at his friend while they kept walking.

“Who?” wondered Pyotr naively.

“You, idiot,” Replied Dimitri, laughing. Of course he would need his best friend in this, He always reminded Dimitri of what he was capable of and more. “You really thought I would do this without you?”

They kept planning who else to bring, Dimitri didn’t want a whole group as that might draw attention when they needed it less. He definitely agreed with Pyotr, they would need at least a heartrender, And dimitri knew who was fit for this Job.

“You’re insane” Said Pyotr, “Raol Ralevsky is the most hated Grisha among his class”

“And that attitude of his and his incredible skill is what we need” Explained Dimitri. He was his first immediate choice. Besides, Dimitri knew he wasn’t that awful, as Raol once helped Dimitri to control his amplifier, for he also had one within his neck, a massive claw of a Tiger he once hunted.

“I heard he once took about six Druskelle on his own, completely destroyed their bodies, that man shows no mercy”

“Once again proving my point, we don’t know if these captors are Fjerdans or not, or how many are there when they attack the caravans. Just trust me on this, we need to get Raol, I need you to let him know, just tell him Dimitri is asking him for this”

“You're gonna tell me that now you’re friends with him?” Asked Pyotr, appalled “More of an ally at the palace” Replied Dimitri, as he left his friend to be alone in his room.

Inside of the grand place he had for his own, he took off his blue kefta, and hung it on a chair near his wardrobe. The room curtains were completely blocking the last hours of light the sun had left. He took off an ointment from the drawer at his bed. with the small red bottle in hand Dimitri walked to the next room at his dorm, where he mostly trained and where a silver bathtub was waiting for him with warm water. He placed the bottle on a small table near a full body mirror. The ointment was a tonic given to him by the healers to help the deepest wounds heal up, but it didn’t seem to do any effect. However he continued on hoping it would work one day.

He took off his white shirt that was covered by the kefta. revealing his scarred light brown skin, reminiscent of his mother who came from Novyi Zem. His leaned but chiseled torso still hadn’t lost the massive scar that crossed from all over his chest to his belly. Dimitri poured some of the ointment on his right hand and slowly began to rub it across the scar. He then turned around and using the mirror he began to apply more of it across the few scars left on his back. After a couple minutes, the ointment dried off and Dimitri striped of the rest of his clothes to enter the bathtub, and for once, in the heat of the water, the smallest pain that was attached to him the whole day vanished.

He knew that he would not receive any of these glimpses of pain relief for the next days or weeks during his mission, but he preferred being outside, in the heat of the action and in the heat of a royal bath.

#gvbb21 #gvbbfic21 #the savior of fire #grishaverse oc #inferni #grishverse

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hecohansen31 · 4 years ago

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Hey There Delilah

Ivar x Slightly Deaf! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

This is a special reward for @xbellaxcarolinax for having bought me a Ko-Fi!

I thoroughly apprecciate your support with every small cells in my body and I hope that you’ll at least enjoy this! It is rather a small thought for your nice gesture, but I hope that I was able to convey what you asked me to write!

Have a lovely reading!

SUMMARY: Faced with a concert of his brother, Ivar is soon forced to face much more than he thought to find.

WORDS: 2,7 K

WARNINGS: Talk of Disability, Use of The Word ‘Cripple’, My Scarse Knowledge About Classical Music, Insecurities, Brotherly Feuds.

Ivar really hated Sigurd.

So, being brought to an exhibition that actually was made to honor his brother made him particularly nervous and annoyed, enough that he had tried to fake anything to avoid it.

But in the end he couldn’t say much.

His mother and more importantly Ubbe simply wanted a nice family day, where they could enjoy Sigurd’s talent, without risking Ivar attacking him to stop his ‘annoying sound’ (what Ivar called Sigurd’s songs).

Still this didn’t mean he had to avoid complaining constantly about everything, starting from the fact that they had had to split up in two cars and he hadn’t been able to take the one with the ramp that’d help him to lower himself down without creating a great fuss.

And the seats of the auditorium weren’t in the slightest comfortable, although his mother had warned the place a week before about his needs, to make sure they reserved some extra space for Ivar’s legs, meanwhile the most they had tried to do was to change his place with one in the front row, away from his family.

And eventually he had set himself up with Ubbe obliging Hvitserk to give up his seat which was on the start of the row to allow him more space on his side, although it undoubtedly was still uncomfortable.

He had wanted desperately to throw a tantrum, but he had soon realized that he was already dosed with the embarrass of everyone looking at Sigurd’s little crippled brother.

He already didn’t like the attention on him, eventually settling on disappearing on his seats, halfway through opening his phone to check out a few songs that he truly liked.

But as quickly as he had gotten it out, Aslaug had taken it and thrown it in her clutch, with a seraphic smile on her face and an obvious suggestion of ‘just enjoying the show’ to Ivar, meanwhile the presenter finally announced the start of the musical event.

It started with the youngest classes, moving to the true talents, divided in classical music, modern music and techno music, the only category for which Ivar was curious.

He didn’t have a very musical ear, unlike Sigurd, something for which he admired and hated his brother, at the same time.

Whereas Ivar had always been recognized for something like his battered legs, Sigurd had always had his music and as much as he continued on complaining about how much he was ‘the forgotten’ son of the family, Ivar knew that Aslaug appreciated his soft sound, stopping herself a few moments to enjoy her son’s songs, outside of his door, whenever he played.

Sigurd had talent.

Ivar only a shit ton of flaws.

That was why he had been so against going to his brother’s concert, but in the end, he was there so he could just enjoy it, and although some weren’t the absolute best he had ever heard, he certainly enjoyed a few, his brother included when he presented himself.

Thankfully after Sigurd’s exhibition, which had gone quite well from the uproar of applauses that had started at the end of the performance (although Ivar would have joked, later, with him that it wasn’t anything but gratefulness for having finished playing that damned instrument), was one of the last ones.

It was followed by a small girl, probably just a bit younger than Sigurd and her violin, looking sober in a black dress with thin straps and an updo that showed up her lovely neck, adorned by a few golden chains, thin and elegant.

You looked, determined in your stare and graceful as you bowed softly to the audience, before adjusting the violin, and as much as Ivar had observed you attentively, he hadn’t expected the musical piece to actually involve him or interest him, thinking that it would have just sounded like something expensive he couldn’t understand.

But he couldn’t deny that you got him hooked from the first note of the song, and the elegant movements of your wrist, as the attach was a tempestuous storm, slowly dissolving in a light sound of calmness, completely numbing Ivar’s mind as he felt like he was basically following a story of some kind.

Delving into the darkness and then slowly bringing itself to the light till it reached it, in a shining ending that caught him completely off-guard and he found himself clapping eagerly at the exhibition, much before of all his brothers, who sent him a look as if to say ‘what the heck?’.

But he ignored them, hiding his emotional face away from them.

After everything ended they were supposed to spend a bit of time at the small reception, and although Aslaug suggested that she and Ivar simply take off, the main reason why they had taken two cars, Ivar muttered that he could withstand the torture a bit more, surprising everyone almost as if he had said the Apocalypse would be soon coming.

But truly, he wanted to catch a few glimpses of you, as the classical assemble was supposed to accompany the small refreshment after the musical event and although your music was lightly shadowed by the other instruments he could still enjoy it, meanwhile Sigurd came to get the compliments, being surprised by the fact that Ivar was still there.

‘… I thought you’d have already come home, listening to whatever metal you like’ he had commented, but Ivar, on whose soul your music had somehow operated a change, just scoffed at the suggestion, but did tell Sigurd that his music had been ‘bearable’.

Although his stare was sneakily focused on you.

He had preferred it much more when you had played solo, not because you were any less talented, but somehow the other instruments shadowed your talent, obliging you to keep yourself caged in a soft sound, barely hearable over the mundane chatter and clinking of glasses.

He really didn’t want to sound like a stalker, but he hadn’t ever been one for classical music, so the fact that you could enchant him like that was quite surprising for him, so he just wanted to catch the secret of that music.

And you were quite the nice spectacle to watch, he wouldn’t have denied it.

But all his alarms started ringing when he saw Sigurd coming closer to you, as you finished your exhibition, a DJ in your place, the blonde boy exchanging small talk with you, as you adjusted the violin back into its protective case, brushing your hands through your updo, lightly messed up by the movements of your arms.

You turned for a moment, as Sigurd probably told you that he had his family alongside him, watching them carefully, as you half-listened to what Sigurd said and for a moment Ivar thought you were his girlfriend.

Which was utter shitty luck.

But had Ivar ever been lucky?

And then you simply turned towards the classic group, excusing yourself, in an obvious rejection that showed up for a moment on Sigurd’s face, the boy clearly a bit annoyed by that but mostly saddened, and then he moved to meet his own group.

And then they had to leave,

And when Ivar looked out again for you, it seemed like you were gone.

Had you been a pretty mirage?

He got the answer when Sigurd excitedly talked about it over dinner, speaking about how cool it had been to performance with so many people, and explaining that they had even had an exchange student from Europe.

‘A true genius of the violin!’ he commented and Ivar’s ears raised up as ones of a dog hearing the steps of the postman ‘… (Y/N) (L/N) she is a professional at such a young age, Ivar’s age!’.

‘Are you implying something?’ Ivar had stroked the banter, eager after he had heard your name, glad to put a name to a face and have something to search up on Wikipedia.

He had said he wasn’t a stalker, but he might have to reconsider that.

Gosh, you were also an exchange student which meant you probably wouldn’t have stayed for much and if you had rejected Sigurd, who did look like an hurt mouse but with functioning legs, he certainly had zero chances for you.

Did it help his mind?

Certainly no.

The multitude of Youtube videos he had found of you playing, instead were nice and he even managed to catch a small interview, in which you looked quite younger, but your face held a strong determination and even more importantly a melancholy that certainly was showcased in your music.

And then he discovered the reason behind your excellent music.

‘… I am slowly going deaf’ you explained softly at the interviewer ‘… a problematic sickness from birth, and although I do know that playing an instrument request desperately a good ear, I don’t have the luxury of it, so I train the hardest to do my best’.

The fact that you had also a disability like him certainly made him reason why you played music so brilliantly and why he could understand it so well, although he hadn’t a single musical knowledge in his mind.

He could relate to your music.

And he fell asleep with one last song in his ears.

With all probability he was in for quite the horrid crush, one where he would have been left utterly broken on the ground, because he shouldn’t have crushed on somebody that had barely acknowledged him and was much more successful than him and that he wouldn’t have ever seen again.

But strangely… Destiny had a mysterious way of fooling us all.

The day after he had been sent by Aslaug outside for a few errands, mostly some at Floki’s shop, since he needed some new pieces for a new tech project and his mother preferred he went by myself, mostly because she wasn’t expert in that.

Floki worked mostly in the boat business, but he had actually opened a small technology shop to support himself when he couldn’t sail or when his boats had to be built, something that mostly his wife took care of, when he was with his boats.

He had been slumping in, having chosen a time where he knew the shop would be desert, entering inside quickly and greeting Helga with a soft smile, as the woman welcomed him warmly.

He passed her the list of what he needed and soon she disappeared in the back, to grab a few things that were in the magazine, suggesting that Ivar handled the shop in her absence, although not many clients would have come for sure, since it was lunch time and nobody…

… and then the door was opened.

And as if summoned by his mind, you walked in.

You didn’t wear the elegant dress you had worn at the musical event, but you still had some kind of grace in your ripped hoodie and giant sweatpants, evidently also not expecting to find anybody at the shop.

The whole concept was simply reinforced by the fact that you wore thick sunglasses.

And Ivar had a fanboy moment.

He honestly wished he could have come to you and congratulated with you, but not only it would have sounded creepy, but Ivar already had trouble with normal girls, think about the cute and talented musician, who made music that spoke to his soul…

He prayed Helga would be back, soon.

But then you quickly came to check out what you had gotten, a couple of batteries, your eyes moving awkwardly around yourself, not moving in any way to meet Ivar till he found himself doing the usual gestures of registering the purchase, since he knew how to do having worked there during the summer.

‘It’ll be 10, 99’ he found himself barely able to mutter, thankful for having basically memorized all the prices and avoiding to stutter and immediately gaining your attention, as your eyes, behind your sunglasses raised to meet Ivar’s.

He thought that you might have been shocked by the hefty price and was halfway through suggesting a cheaper type, although he was surprised you had money problems, but it wasn’t his job to judge…

“… excuse me can you repeat it pronouncing it slowly?” your voice was unsure a bit too high on some notes, clearly reminding Ivar of what he had heard on the interview, the fact that you had slowly been going deaf.

“Oh yeah, sorry!” he commented shyly, realizing a few minutes that he had rambled, but you simply smiled at him “… the price of the batteries is 10, 99”.

You nodded softly, getting your wallet out of your sweatpants.

“… sorry for the inconvenience…” your hands moved nervously in your pockets, probably because you were rushing to sign “… my stupid hearing aid device stopped working this morning, and apparently one can never pack too many batteries…”.

“Oh, don’t worry” ‘and please, for fuck’s sake, Ivar don’t mention that you admire her, she is in incognito mode and wouldn’t let to get recognized so make sure to stop your mind from speaking’…’ “… I am a fan of yours, actually”.

The fuck.

Thankfully you didn’t straight up run away, but instead a small smirk appeared on your face, as you pushed slightly down your glasses to show your eyes.

“… didn’t know that I had cute guys as my fans” you shot, making him blush as his eyes set up on the cash desk trying to remember the code, and his hands then moved to actually accept the money and give you back your change “… but it’s a nice discovery”.

He simply smirked tight-lipped, definitely trying not to say anything else.

But his mouth was too big for that.

And he was too stubborn even for himself.

“I was at the auditorium… my brother, Sigurd, you must know him… he plays at the school” ok Ivar, slow down your words and breath or you’ll pass out in front of her and it’ll be awkward “… I just… I think you are pretty amazing, I am not an expert, but…”.

“It’s always nice to have power of being able to convert people on the light side of music” you replied and he couldn’t help but appreciate the ‘Star Wars’ reference, showing definitely that you had much more than classic taste in your mind “… want to take a selfie together?”.

Ok, you must have totally thought him to be a crazy fan.

“… ah no, like no offense, but… I just…I am not the type” he muttered “… just wanted you to know that although I might sound creepy, I do feel like I can understand perfectly your music and I admire you a lot”.

Your smile became much more relaxed and genuine, almost as if you weren’t the magical musician, but simply a person talking with another.

Which is the way Ivar wanted people to treat him.

“… first of all, thank you for avoiding me the selfie, I am obviously in no shape for it” Ivar would have honestly disagreed, but again… just the strict necessary out “… and second of all, that is what I aim to do with my music and my story. I am glad it was inspiring”.

“It was” and although they were simple words, they were enough for him to express his utter emotion and you straight up smiled back at him, showing him that you had understood what he truly meant.

And in that moment, Helga appeared from the bag, just as he was handing her back her batteries, ready to wish her a good day and avoid thinking anymore about the fact that he had just met an amazing human being.

Helga looked confused but he simply explained that he was taking care of the cashier desk, the woman pushing what he had taken in a box, as if to leave the two youngsters a bit of privacy, and although Ivar’s soul was slowly readying himself for the ‘goodbye’s, you suddenly moved up and said:

“Do you happen to know a nice coffee shop in town? I have been here for three days and I haven’t been able to explore much”.

Now had it been said to any of his brothers, it would have been obvious you had meant to flirt.

But with Ivar…

… one might never know if it was out of pity.

Although he had to admit that she hadn’t seen his legs.

Which was a thing that he preferred to keep this way.

“… ahh there are a few ones, it mostly depends on how much you want to spend and what you prefer…”.

“There is ‘Princess Diana’ right down the road” commented tightly Helga, surprising them both, although you sent her a seraphic look of thankfulness.

“Oh right” added Ivar, not totally sending Helga an annoyed look, knowing that that coffee shop was his favorite for the vintage aesthetic and the enormous milkshakes, but knowing as well that his ‘aunt’ was trying to set him up with the pretty girl in front of him.

Who was way out of his league.

“… then I do think that I’ll pay it a visit but…” and your eyes twinkled over to Ivar “… would you mind accompanying me? I wouldn’t want to get lost!”.

It was obvious now that you were flirting with him.

Although Ivar saw no reason on why a talented and beautiful musician like you might be interested in a cripple like him.

A very rude cripple.

A very rude cripple who couldn’t take a hint.

“… ahem… I have to actually bring these things at home…” he tried the excuse, but Helga, who almost smacked his bum to make him reconsider his wording, moved to chip in sweetly.

“I can set them up on the side for Hvitserk to pick them up when he comes for a new videogame later this afternoon” she explained, as Ivar took in a quick look at the new pieces that he had chosen, insisting on at least paying, meanwhile you told him that you’d be waiting for him outside.

‘Gotta readjust the hearing aid’ you explained, with a bright smile that made Ivar blush.

And when you were gone, he turned to Helga, looking at her in her light eyes and uttering.

“I can’t do this” and then looking at the backdoor “… I need to escape”.

But right as he was moving for the door, Helga literally stopped him with her tiny but strong body.

“Ivar Lothbrock don’t make me slap you across the face” she reprimanded him, looking at him in the eyes to make him understand better what she was saying “… a cute guy that you obviously like, from that idiotic smile on your face, just asked you out and you won’t back off on my watch, understood?”.

“She literally doesn’t know me! And I don’t know her! She might be a psycho!” retorted Ivar, getting an eye-roll from Helga, who breathed out a loud huff “… and she is too much for me”.

“… that is something that she can solely decide” replied Helga, her tone quietening itself “… and you won’t ruin a chance simply for your own self-esteem issues, at least not on my watch, understood?”.

And he couldn’t help but nod.

Although inside he couldn’t help but want to riot completely.

And turn away and run.

But he managed to finally get out of the shop, with one last look at Helga, who held up both her thumbs.

Not reassuring at all.

But he still reached out to you, who had set down on the sidewalk, adjusting a small external hearing aid, in a way that told him that you were used to it as much as your braces.

The first thing that you noticed, as you turned around to him, coming to face with them.

He expected some comment about a problem having come up or probing for more info about them.

Once somebody had asked him if it was ‘infectious’.

But you surprised him again, getting up quickly, without sparing another look at his legs, making him almost confused, as he considered whether you would have run away or…

“… so, where is this ‘Princess Diana’?” you simply asked, a strange excitement coated with embarrassment in your eyes.

And maybe… just maybe he had the chance of making his own music, for once.

---

Liked What You Read? Want To Support Me? Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

---

Everything Taglist:

@maggiescarborough

Ivar Taglist:

@youbloodymadgenius, @alexhandersenx, @lonewolf471, @flowers-in-your-hayr, @a-mess-of-fandoms @xbellaxcarolinax (I also did yours, and it’ll be out soon too!) @peaceisadirtyword

#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Lothbrock #Ivar Lothbrock x Reader #Ivar Lothbrock Imagine #Vikings #HIstory Vikings #Vikings Imagine #Ivar Moodboard #Ivar The Boneless Moodboard

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enthusiastic-nimrod · 4 years ago

Note

Hey I'm Fred's fourth daddy anon! I sent that to you, and what felt like five minutes later you came in with that gorgeous sketch. Do you have any art tips or videos that have taught you cause I've been stuck draw trying to draw anything not resembling a lump for two years. Also yeah it was whirlwind episode, f*ck Rose, and Fred should have turned that loon in.

Hey FD Anon, thanks so much! I don’t draw a lot of “horror” art so I’m really happy with it’s progress so far!

While I do agree with you that Rose is The Worst, I think she added in an interesting dynamic and I’d be happy if she became a recurring character in the Scooby mythos at large. As for Fred not turning his dad in... I agree, but I also understand why he didn’t.

The episode went out of it’s way to show off how frightening and weird he is but Fred made it very clear that when he wasn’t wearing the mask he was a good parent, and that all of his crimes were shown as nonviolent. He didn’t seem to steal anything (unless I missed that line?) he just liked messing with people by confusing them.

As for art tips, I... honestly never expected anybody to ask for advice from me? That’s super flattering wow.

Okay, so I’m still pretty much a novice, but lemme give you some of my best tips and tricks:

1) Notice how my last sketch had a grey background? This wasn’t just for that sketch, this is how I use ALL of my digital canvases. I do this because the grey causes less strain to my eyes, and allows me to work longer and more easily. Being so close to a screen, especially a blue or white one, can make it harder to work for long periods of time.

2) If you want to do digital art, you need to learn “traditional art” (pencil and paper) first. It makes transitioning to digital more easy and it’s pretty much what any art teacher would recommend, for good reason.

3) Using one method of art not only limits you, but stops you from learning other techniques which can be incorporated into what you typically prefer. Not only that, but you can also discover a medium you really love that you never would have thought of before!

4) Whenever you get the chance, work in black and white or monochrome. This is a great way to help yourself learn about values and intensity, and just looks cool in general.

5) Piggybacking on that last point, if you’re ever worried about your shading, values, etc becoming muddled either A] take a picture and use a filter to make it black and white, or B] create another, pure white layer on top of the others and change it from “Normal” to “Hue”. Doing this can really help change your approach to coloring (black and white effect may be different for every art program).

6) If you want to get better at realistic faces, I was taught using the grid system. You have squares on your reference picture, squares on your paper, and then match up the body parts to the squares. I personally didn’t like this method, but it’s a really solid style of learning.

7) Start with the torso instead of the head. what you start with the head, the body may end up becoming wonky and having the neck stretched out at an odd angle or having a too small cranium. This is easier to fix in digital art but I suggest just remembering the importance of that rib cage (this is something I’m still training myself out of).

8) Asking for feedback can be an invaluable tool. For example, last year I had this really weird thing where I drew my eyes way too close together- I never noticed until I had it pointed out to me, and it took MONTHS to break this habit.

9) References are very useful, and one fun technique I’ve found great use in is to draw a pose, first with no reference, and then following that reference very strictly. This can be helpful when you want to see where you are developmentally.

10) Every now and then while drawing, you want to put the pencil down, prop up your paper, and walk away so that you can see the full image from a distance. If you’re working digitally, you zoom out a great deal so that the image appears smaller. This is a GREAT tool for seeing which sections of the piece need the most attention and how those smaller details hold up.

11) If you have the opportunity, you REALLY want to participate in an actual art class. Having a teacher that can see what you’re doing in real time and knows where you’re at skill-wise is an INVALUABLE thing to have- these people were specifically taught how to teach you these skills, recognize your problems and how to fix them. Don’t be afraid to talk to them and ask for advice about non-classwork art, either! You can’t receive help if you don’t ask for it.

12) Flip your canvas! I know you’ve probably heard this before, but this is one of the best ways to check for anatomy inconsistencies.

13) When it comes to youtube artists, I don’t really actively follow any, but I do know of some!

Mark Crilley: While I don’t watch his videos much now, I used to follow his videos RELIGIOUSLY. He’s got some really solid advice on how to map out comics and mangas, and he taught me the importance of silent scenes and keeping your work from getting too wordy. He mostly does the soft anime look, but he also does some pretty stellar realism.

mikeymegamega: I’m not going to lie to you, anon- this man likes his cheesecake. This guy is all about the cute anime girls, so if you’re not looking for that, skip him, but I really can’t recommend his videos on hands, feet, and faces enough.

Proko: Has a video about best drawing exorcises and is the guy you turn to when you want to know about figure drawing. He tends to focus on the more realistic anatomy, and while his videos may be long he’s got some good advice. I’d say to check out his studying anatomy correctly video, and then just kinda scroll through his pages.

Ethan Becker: THE KNIFE MAN. The first time I clicked on him I thought he was making a troll video- but then he Got Into It and my dudes, my guys, he has some CRAZY good advice. The way he words things and shows you examples in his videos are amazing and I really can’t recommend him enough. He did a video called “Fixing PROKO's LAZY Drawings“ and while you’d think it would be a bash fest his advice on shading in it is just so incredibly useful. Click on pretty much any of his videos and you’ll be entertained and learning.

I'd also suggest watching speedpaints. Even if it was unintentional, I’ve learned several really solid art hacks from speedpaint and storytime videos- so always be aware that you have an option for that.

…. Oh! And also, practice! I know you’ve probably been given this advice from everyone already, but it’s worth remembering.

Sorry if this got a bit long, I just figured I’d try to give you some good hacks- and even if you have already heard of most of these, I hope I could at the very least entertain!

#ask #response #anon #art advice #art tips #scooby doo #fred jones #professor huh #bcsd

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alj4890 · 4 years ago

Text

Delicate

(Olivia Nevarkis x Ethan Ramsey) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crossover crack series.

A/N The story continues with their first date. Ethan remembers a night where he was ready to admit that he was attracted to Olivia. And during another date, Olivia gets a surprise from Cordonia.

@jooous @krsnlove @nomadics-stuff @twinkleallnight @motorcitymademadame

Masterlist

Part 2

Bistro Du Midi, Boston...

Ethan couldn't recall the last time he enjoyed a meal more than he was this one with Olivia. Though they had shared a number of meals the last few months at the hospital, something about this one seemed, well, more.

He knew it had to be because he had been honest with her in what he wanted. And surprisingly, she wanted the same.

A chance to be together.

While she was relating a story from one of her adventures with her friends in Cordonia, he studied her closely. Her red hair was down, making he yearn to run his fingers through it. Her emerald eyes lacked the suspicious edge he had witnessed directed at people she didn't know well. He loved that he had watched it slowly fade with each coffee date they had.

They were dates, he thought to himself. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I went from using them to find out her true mission for the hospital to wanting to discover everything I could about her. Be near her. Have her undivided attention.

He prided himself on not simply falling for a pretty face.

Olivia is gorgeous.

He required more from people, like intelligence and steadfastness.

She is as sharp as those daggers she always has on her. Her ability to understand the complexities of not only medicine but also the trials I face both personally and professionally have left me astounded. For an outsider to step up and face my personal demons head on, without flinching, without wavering...how did I not notice it sooner?

************

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

Drake paused on the way to his chambers when he overheard Riley say Olivia's name.

"Hana said that Olivia is wearing one of the dresses for her date tonight."

"So the suspicions you all have had are true?" Drake could hear the teasing in Liam's tone. "She and Dr. Ramsey have fallen for one another?"

"Working together allowed them to discover that there are some sparks worth exploring." Riley giggled. "I can't wait to meet him."

"If Olivia agreed to a date then it must be serious." Liam mused. "She wouldn't risk losing him to head the research hospital."

"You're right!" Riley exclaimed. "I thought Hana was joking about drawing up possible wedding gowns for Liv. No wonder she is looking ahead."

Drake staggered back.

This is why Maxwell suggested I go to Boston. He must have overheard Riley and Hana's conversation.

He headed to his room. He had some decisions to make.

*****************

Boston Opera House...

"Interesting choice." Olivia whispered as she read the title Turnadot on the program.

Ethan chuckled as he settled his arm along the back of her chair. "I thought you might think so."

She shook her head as a smile played about her lips. "I hope you aren't about to say that I'm anything like Turnadot."

"A cold woman who enjoys making men suffer with riddles, torture, and death until finally the right man comes along?" He winked at her. "Not at all."

She laughed softly, enjoying the lightheartedness she felt around him.

His fingers brushed her shoulder as he toyed with a lock of her hair. He found his attention couldn't remain on the opera. Seeing the contentment on his date's face held him captivated.

Ethan thought of the other times he had been unable to focus on anything other than her. There had been a few where her guard had dropped and he had seen a new side of the fiery duchess. One night in particular had caused him to realize his feelings for her had changed.

And he knew that it must have for her too...

**************

Two months ago, Edenbrook...

Olivia Nevarkis, report to the E.R. immediately.

"What on earth?" Olivia paused mid step on her way out of the lobby.

Why is someone paging me to the emergency room?

After two months at Edenbrook, she had learned every shortcut and exit.

Getting to the E. R. Was not a problem. Being called there like a member of the medical staff was the real mystery.

She scanned her I.D. and paused at the pandemonium that had erupted.

Her eyes immediately found Ethan at the center of the chaos as he gave orders to the ones working the graveyard shift.

She had never seen him in this type of situation before. Most of their time was spent walking down hallways or sitting in his office discussing aspects that she should present to Liam and the council with building a research hospital.

This was eye opening.

He's...he's impressive.

His blue eyes settled on her.

"Olivia, follow me." He ordered.

She quirked an eyebrow at not only his command but that he didn't bother checking to see if she was following him.

If she didn't know better, she would mistake him for a noble.

She hurried to catch up to him.

"What's happened?" She asked.

"There was a wreck on I-95." He explained. "Multiple cars involved."

Her brow furrowed with concern at the thought of using her nursing skills. "Are you shorthanded? Is that why you paged me?"

"In a way." He paused outside of a closed off section of the E. R. "I need you to sit with a child around five or six years old."

"What?" She blinked in surprise.

"Her parents were severely injured." He lowered his voice. "Both are in emergency surgery as we speak."

Olivia swallowed, averting her eyes. "I--I don't really have that much experience dealing--"

"Look around, Olivia." He motioned with his hand. "There is no one else right now."

She briefly closed her eyes. "Very well. Is she hurt?"

There was a warm look of approval in his eyes that sent an unexpected fluttering in her stomach.

"Broken arm." He replied.

Olivia opened the door and preceded him.

She felt a jolt of déjà vu.

There sitting on the bed was a little girl with red hair.

Tears were running down her cheeks as she looked up at them.

"Kylie, this is Olivia." Ethan's deep voice was warm and friendly. "She is going to sit with you until your grandparents get here."

"What about Mommy and Daddy?" She sniffed.

"They are being taken care of." He told her. "In fact, I'm going to go see how they are and come back here to tell you." He lifted her arm that had a purple cast around it. "I'll make sure and tell your mom you picked her favorite color."

Olivia quietly observed as he helped calm the little girl down. He even caused her to giggle when he handed her a stuffed bear he had bought at the gift shop.

If only I had had someone like him when my parents died. To be given that kind of comfort during such uncertainty...

But Kylie's parents weren't dead. Nor were they traitors to their country, Olivia thought grimly.

Ethan turned to leave, pausing once more to look at the duchess.

"Olivia?"

She lifted her eyes to his.

He studied her quietly and gave a brief smile. "I'll be back."

Once the door shut, Olivia sat down in a chair by the bed.

Not knowing what to say, she hoped Kylie would rest or speak first.

"You have pretty hair." The little girl said.

Olivia reached up self consciously to smooth her hair. "Thank you." Her lips curved in a smile. "So do you."

"My daddy has red hair too." Kylie told her. "But he says his isn't pretty like mine."

Olivia nodded, unsure if she should agree or not.

"Does your daddy have red hair?" Kylie asked.

"No." Olivia grimaced at her harsh tone. Why her parents still brought this out in her irked her to no end. "He had brown hair."

"Oh." Kylie tilted her head. "Does your mommy have red hair?"

"Yes." Olivia lowered her eyes. "I used to love to brush it for her."

"I do too!" Kylie beamed at her. "But mine has yellow hair."

Olivia's forced smile disappeared when Kylie began to softly cry again.

"I wish mommy was here."

The duchess quickly rose to her feet unsure how to quiet these tears.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Olivia looked about the stark room. "Something to drink or--"

"I want my mommy." Kylie wailed, rubbing her eyes with her good arm.

Olivia sat down on the bed, intending to pat her back in sympathy.

Kylie instead crawled into her lap and nestled her head under Olivia's chin.

Momentarily shocked by this, the duchess lifted her arms a few times before gently hugging the little girl.

She spoke softly to her, reassuring her that her mother wanted to be here just as much.

She smoothed the red locks of hair off the damp cheeks, and rested her own cheek against the little head.

This type of pain she was well acquainted with. How often had she cried that very sentence into the darkness of her bedroom in Lythikos, just to have it unanswered?

Olivia silently prayed that this little girl would not suffer a similar fate.

Something within her seemed to soften, almost break. It was as if that part of her heart that she had smothered through years of hardness cracked anew with each little tremble of the child in her arms.

Tears pricked her eyes when Kylie snuggled closer. The need to be held was something Olivia had tried to ignore most of her life. Holding this scared, tiny girl brought that feeling back, nearly causing her to cry out with her own anguish.

Ethan paused at the window on his way back in the room. His hard gaze softened at the sight of the fiery tempered duchess holding a sick child as if she was somehow dear to her.

He had suspected that she might have a tender side. He had caught glimpses of it throughout her stay. But tonight, he was able to witness it in full form. He especially noticed them whenever it was just the two of them, usually when their conversations turned from the hospital to more personal memories.

The few brief remarks followed by the stark despair in her eyes each time parents were mentioned had led him to believe she had not had a happy childhood. If it was anything like his own, then Olivia was a remarkable woman.

His own heart twinge at the thought of being abandoned by his mother. For years he had ignored it, repeating to himself that he had not needed her. Was he not one of the most sought after diagnosticians in the world?

Everything he had accomplished he had done without a mother or the need of one. His hardened heart had kept him focused. Driven. He prided himself by not feeling emotions that he considered a weakness in his line of work.

But something about the sight of Olivia holding Kylie touched his numb heart. It wasn't so much the sweetness of the moment, but rather that long ago despair being awakened. It was almost as if he had found someone who could truly understand his anger and hurt he had kept buried all these years.

"Excuse us. Are you Dr. Ramsey?"

He turned toward an older couple. "Yes."

"We were called about our daughter and family being in a car wreck." The man said.

Ethan quickly explained the injuries of the family of three. He reassured them that it looked well for their daughter and son-in-law.

"They are both in recovery." He told them. "Their surgeons were pleased with how everything went."

"And our granddaughter?" The woman asked.

He opened the door for them. "Right in here."

"Kylie!" Her grandmother wiped her eyes, smiling as the little girl held her arms out to her.

Olivia set her back on her bed, and silently made her escape.

Ethan excused himself, promising to keep them updated, and chased after the duchess.

He caught up with her when she stepped outside.

"Olivia?" He reached out and touched her back in concern.

She was struggling to take deep breaths.

"What is it--" his arms closed around her when she pulled him close.

Her head rested on his chest, eyes shut tight, as she tried to calm down.

His arms tightened around her when hers slid around his waist.

Neither was sure how long they stood like that. Not a word was spoken as they gave each other the comfort they so often denied themselves through the years.

There was something different about being held in Ethan's arms compared to the few times Drake had briefly embraced her. Perhaps it was simply that this wasn't occurring doing the heat of passion like her former lover's had been. Something though about this felt more intimate than all those other times before.

Eventually, Olivia stepped back. Her reluctance wasn’t lost on Ethan. He let his hands move to grasp hers, keeping her near.

"I'm...sorry." She lowered her eyes from his perceptive blue ones. "I don't know what came over me."

"No need to apologize." He squeezed her hands. "I..." He swallowed and looked down. "I needed a moment like that too."

Her head jerked up, eyes searching his face for any sign that he was merely saying that to make her feel less foolish. When she saw nothing but his own vulnerability at being caught needing a hug too, she relaxed.

He cleared his throat. "It's late. Why don't you let me drive you home?"

"Thank you." She noticed that neither of them was willing to let go of the other.

Ethan forced his fingers to slip away from hers. "I'll meet you in the lobby."

She watched him walk towards a set of elevators. His confident stride seemed less so as he turned to look at her once more.

For some reason, she felt like he needed her to give him some form of encouragement. Her lips curved somewhat into a half smile.

His own flashed before he disappeared in the elevator.

***************

Ethan knew in that moment that he was ready to admit at least to himself that he was falling for Olivia. He had been reluctant to suggest a date, but all that changed when he noticed that she seemed happier whenever he invited her out for coffee or lunch. Her smile came more easily. Her eyes had that sparkle that made it hard to look away.

She had made him excited at taking a chance to see where this could go.

Now he intended that this date was the first of many nights spent together.

***************

Olivia’s heart raced when they finally were at her apartment. Clearing her throat, she invited him inside.

There was nothing Ethan wanted more than to spend the night with her. But he wanted to do this right. He thought she deserved everything, including himself, at its best.

“I intend on taking things between us as they should be.” He pulled her close. “You have no idea how hard it is to not step inside and...” His lips captured hers in a heated kiss.

Olivia felt herself melting against him. Each brush of his tongue, the soft feel of his lips contrasted by the prickly sensation of his stubble, all of it was a heady mixture that made her desire more. She wanted all that he placed before her: a true romantic relationship.

He groaned when her hands moved up his chest as their lips crashed together for another kiss.

He lifted his head, softly smiling at the smile forming on her slightly swollen lips. “Why don’t we plan on spending the weekend together?”

“I’d like that.” She gently caressed his cheek.

“So would I.” He kissed her once more swearing to himself that this would be as far as he could push his restraint.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” He added as he let his arms slide away from her.

She nodded, feeling a bit dazed by the emotions she felt from his words and touch.

They parted, each surprisingly happier than they had been before.

***************

The following weekend...

“...and that was how Thomas knew I was the one.” Amanda finished, laughing at the soft groan coming from her husband. “You know it’s true.”

“Not even close.” He wrapped his arm around her. “And you know that’s true.”

Olivia rolled her eyes to hide how pleased she was to see one of her closest friends with someone who adored her. She settled next to Ethan after offering refills of wine. She felt a brief burst of delight when he draped his arm along the back of the loveseat. His fingers toyed with her red hair before dropping to her shoulder. She felt her cheeks heat up at finally finding a man not afraid to show her affection in front of others.

Something about this felt so foreign and yet at the same time, it felt right. This was a whole new experience, one she thought she could easily get used to.

The two couples had enjoyed dinner at Olivia’s apartment. Though Ethan was familiar with Amanda during her sporadic visits to assist Olivia in her preparing to move forward with the research hospital, this was the first time he had met her husband. Uncertain what type of man the famous director would be, he found a somewhat kindred spirit in the gruff man. Like Ethan, he had little patience for foolish people. He seemed to prefer avoiding large crowds and such. And just like the doctor, he seemed most content with a particular Cordonian lady.

“I still say we go sailing.” Olivia added when suggestions for the next day were bandied about. “It’s been ages since I have had a chance to get out on the water.”

“I haven’t been in a while either.” Ethan added.

“I wouldn’t mind relaxing among the waves.” Thomas remarked.

“I guess this means we’re going sailing.” Amanda teased.

“Good, I knew I would wear you all down.” Olivia smirked as they all chuckled.

Right when she got up to get dessert, her door was knocked on.

Her brow furrowed as she went to answer it.

Seeing the last two people she would ever expect to visit her in Boston caused her to lose all ability to speak.

Her lips parted, yet not a sound came out.

Maxwell nudged Drake.

Clearing his throat, he slowly smiled at her.

“Hey Liv. It’s been a long time.”

#ethan ramsey x olivia nevarkis #choices open heart #choices crackship #choices the royal romance #trr olivia #oh ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #olivia nevrakis #drake walker #drake x olivia #open heart x the royal romance #choices crossover #delicate

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