#at least good gaming buds enjoying competitive games together

[bulecelup]

you live like this?

ミオスレ | シャアム

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics AU - Event Finals Part 1

Masterpost Now on AO3 - Sous Le Ciel de Paris

Part 11 I think?

Author's note: sorry for the delay on this guys, but I just couldn't get it to a place where I was happy with it for a while. And I don’t like putting things out when I’m not happy with them. Plus I wanted to wait until I watched event finals to make sure I felt relatively okay about the logistics. Plus I've been very busy with life 😬. But this part is a bit longer, so maybe that makes up for it?

Hope everyone is enjoying the Olympics! Here's Bucky's event finals, as promised.

---

The first day of individual event finals, Bucky is alone. Just him, his coaches, and seven of his new closest friends – the other athletes from around the world competing for a medal on men’s floor exercise. The only other men’s event today is pommel horse, and none of the U.S. athletes qualified. Croz damn near did, but he placed ninth after a form break, and only the top eight on each apparatus advance to finals.

So it’s just Bucky back here in the Bercy arena warm-up gym, and he feels oddly bereft. He doesn’t remember the last time he walked into a competition alone, without Curt at his side. It’s been the two of them at the top of men’s gymnastics for years. Even when they competed in college for different schools, they met up at competitions and became fast friends. Since then, they’ve trained together. They’ve competed together. They’ve faced the world and this crazy ass sport together. And now Bucky is alone. 

It’s nearing 9am in Paris, and he’s getting ready to do his fourth floor routine of this Olympics. His fourth floor routine in about a week, after qualifications, team, and all-around. 

We don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do floor yet, the doctors told him months ago. It’s too much of a risk. It’s too hard on your leg.

Bucky basically told them to fuck off because he planned to try for Paris. Once the idea was in his head – the idea that it could be possible – he couldn’t let it go. He needed to at least try. Honestly, not even he himself knows if he really expected to get this far. On one hand, yes he absolutely did. He’s John fucking Egan; as far as he’s concerned, this is what he was meant for, a destiny set forth by the gymnastics gods. On the other hand, did anyone really expect it after the year he’d had? Did anyone think it was possible? Did anyone think he could do it without hurting himself all over again?

And yet here he is. He wasn’t supposed to do floor exercise at all, and now he’s doing it four times in one week. And honestly, not even he’s sure that it’s a good idea. Not even he’s sure that he isn’t in over his head today. 

But that kind of mentality does not have a place on the gymnastics floor.

A wet nose presses against Bucky’s thigh as he sits on the floor, securing his brace once again as he prepares to head out into the arena for warmups. It’s his ever-dutiful good luck charm, getting Bucky through these Games just like he got him through trials. 

“Hey bud,” Bucky says, patting Beacon on the head. The golden smiles at him and wags his tail, as if he’s saying you’re not alone, you have me, and it makes Bucky smile, too. “Yeah, at least I have you,” he says. “Just you and me against the world, Bea.”

Beacon licks his hand in agreement.

The golden almost hadn’t made it to the Games, but Bucky and Curt had personally advocated to find a way to get him and his owner across the pond to Paris. USA Gymnastics wasn’t going to turn down their two stars, and they pulled some strings to make it happen. Since it’s an international event, the dog can’t be out on the competition floor, but USA Gym negotiated a way to have him back by the warm-up gym, and at this point just about everyone agrees it was the best decision anyone at the Olympics had ever made. He’s become not only the team USA therapy dog, but the therapy dog for every Olympic gymnast who needs a little extra comfort. Many of the athletes from other countries have made friends with him in the last week, taking photos with him and de-stressing by petting or playing with him. No one goes out onto the floor without petting Beacon for good luck.

Beacon, who started as a USA Gymnastics celebrity, is now an Olympic celebrity. Everyone knows who he is, especially at Bercy. After winning team silver, Curt laid his medal around Beacon’s neck for a picture, citing him as part of the team. He attends interviews with the boys, gets professionally photographed, and can be spotted from time to time around the Olympic Village. The dog even has his own custom “Beacon the Good Boy” pin for the Olympic pin exchange, and it’s quickly become a highly sought after souvenir for the athletes.

A Japanese gymnast, the favorite to win floor finals, walks by as he prepares to head out into the arena. He stops to lean down and scratch Beacon on the ears, and Beacon wags his tail and boops him on the arm. Bucky and the other gymnast exchange a smile and wish each other good luck, and then Bucky’s coach is grabbing his bag for him, letting him know it’s time to go. 

As Bucky gives Beacon a kiss on the head and walks away, he’s aware of every single athlete heading out to floor exercise – all eight of them, no matter what country they’re from – stopping to pet the dog. For good luck. 

As the announcer calls his name – “For the United States of America, John Egan!” – Bucky walks through the open doorway into Bercy Arena, the American flag projected on the wall behind him. He smiles and waves at the crowd packing the arena on all sides and heads over towards the tumbling floor with the other gymnasts. As he walks, he feels some nerves begin to return, and he runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip as he takes a deep breath. 

One more time, he tells himself. He’s hit every other floor routine this week. He can hit this one, too.

He’s leaning over his bag, which his coach had set on one of the chairs to the side of the tumbling floor, when he hears a familiar voice. “Egan, why don’t you give me a smile?”

Bucky whips around, and he can’t stop the grin that breaks out across his face. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

He pulls Curt into a hug and claps him on the back. The other gymnast, not competing today, is wearing one of the red USA Gymnastics coaching polo shirts. He has his Paris Olympics ID card and a floor pass strapped across his body on one of those pink and blue Paris lanyards. Hand-written on the pass in a messy scrawl are the words “MAG Coach 2” – Men’s Artistic Gymnastics coach 2. 

“Pulled some strings,” Curt says. “I’m your other coach for the day. Thought you could use some of my awesomeness down here.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but hugs Curt again. “Thanks, man.”

Curt grins at him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s rack ‘em up and knock ‘em down.”

When it’s Bucky’s turn on floor, he spares a glance up to the stands. When he was younger, cockier, he’d interact with the crowd constantly during meets. Sometimes his coaches would reprimand him for it, telling him to focus. He didn’t really listen.

He didn’t necessarily lose that cockiness, but a greater wariness has welled up within him during his recovery, dimming it. In the last week, he’s been finding a better balance again, but he’s been different since he returned to competition. During trials, he tried to block out the crowd, not wanting to let it get into his head. He didn’t have quite so much fun, didn’t want to think about anything other than the next apparatus, the next pass, the next skill.

But that was before he cared about who was watching. Here, in Paris, he’s made a point of knowing exactly where Gale is sitting, as if that alone can fight off his nightmare from before all-around. As if that alone can keep his leg together, keep his mind and body on the same page, ensure he can stick the landings on these tumbling passes that his doctors don’t think he should be doing. 

Gale Cleven. Bucky’s other good luck charm. 

Gale is exactly where he said he’d be, five rows up, right in front of the tumbling floor. Benny is beside him, and Marge, fresh from winning team silver in show jumping, is in the next seat over. She waves excitedly when he looks up, and he waves back. Gale notices him at the last second and breaks into a smile that takes away any last remnants of nerves that had been swarming around Bucky’s head. Any anxiety he feels starts to simply melt away, because Gale smiling at him like that is like basking in the glow of the sun.

On Gale’s other side is Croz, Alex, and Brady. The rest of Bucky’s team, here to hype him up and cheer him on. Brady has a tiny American flag stuck behind each ear, and all three of them are wearing quite obnoxious custom John Egan t-shirts. Bucky wonders how they got them without him noticing. 

He stops at the chalk box and kicks the slides off his feet before stepping into it, coating his feet in white chalk as he waits for the go-ahead. Then he leans over to the elevated chalk bowl and does the same to his hands. Over the quiet chatter as the audience waits, he can hear Brady yell “Yeah you get that chalk!” And it makes him laugh. 

The commentators on TV will note that John Egan has the second highest start value in this competition. Second by a mere tenth of a point. If he chose to compete the floor routine he wanted to – before he fought with his doctors and coaches over the integrity of his leg and the importance of not fucking it up – he’d have the highest start value by a mile. But as a compromise, he chose to omit one of his harder passes due to the danger of over-rotation and re-injury. The commentators still talk about how it’s incredible that he’s doing what he’s doing at all, that he qualified second on floor after the injury he had. 

Bucky knows that, injury or not, his gymnastics speaks for itself. His floor routine speaks for itself. His difficulty score speaks for itself. He knows that, injury or not, he is seen as one of the best gymnasts in the world right now, and that is why he’s here. But sometimes he wishes the commentators and the interviewers and the media would see it that way too, that they’d stop qualifying his accomplishments by saying he’s doing a great job “for being terribly injured just months ago.”

Injury or not, he’s John fucking Egan. And he’s going to make sure everyone in this stadium knows it. Sure he already has the all-around gold, but as long as he’s here, he needs to keep proving that he’s more than a comeback, more than a pity story.

He’s John fucking Egan. 

When the green light comes on and the announcer says his name, he swears he can hear his friends cheering for him over anyone else in the stadium, and he lets it fuel him. He salutes the judges, steps into the corner of the floor to set up his first pass, and he throws himself at it with every last bit of energy he has. 

Triple twisting double back layout. Perfect stick. Applause. Combination pass. Near perfect stick. Applause. Double salto forward. Stick. Applause. Cartwheel, somersault into the splits. Japanese handstand – his non-acrobatic element – arms straight out to the side, hands pressing into the floor holding himself up, head no more than a fist’s width distance from the floor, legs straight in the air. Hold. Roll out of it. Three more passes left. 

On the penultimate pass, he can feel it when he’s only midway through, still ten feet in the air. It’s a feeling no gymnast, no matter how well trained, likes to have: he’s going to under-rotate this. When he lands, in an attempt to save himself from falling on his face, his left foot hits the floor at a very strange angle in front of him and causes him to stumble back a step on his right. He grimaces when he feels a painful tug on his left knee, straining the joint. 

Not now, he thinks. Not fucking now.

The commentators on TV will comment on the disconcerting way he landed, the look of concern that flashes across his face before he schools his features once again and regains his balance. They’ll mention his knee, his injury, his comeback, the fact that his doctor’s didn’t think he should do floor but he wouldn’t be stopped. 

Curt watches with concern, wondering if his fears were right, that today was just too much. He tries to analyze the way Bucky landed and the look on his face and what it might mean. He’s playing coach today, and he’s trying to make heads or tails of what’s going through Bucky’s head right now. But like any coach, it’s not up to him. Out there on the floor, it’s up to John and John alone. All he can do is watch what happens next.

In the stands, Croz, Alex, and Brady all cringe at the same time, making Gale go “What? What’s wrong?” with his eyes wide in alarm.

“He landed a bit weird on his left,” Croz explains. “Looks like he’s gonna keep going, but…”

Shit.

He’s gonna keep going, but he’d keep going even if he shouldn’t. 

Bucky’s fine. Enough. He’s fine enough. He needs to be fine enough. He’s still standing, so there’s no other option. He can still move, so anything else he can work out later. Whether he’s actually fine or if the adrenaline coursing through his body is masking the pain, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t matter.

He cocks his head, shakes his arms out as he brings his feet together in the corner once again. Just gotta make it one more, he tells himself. It’s fine. We’re fine. He can hear Curt on the sidelines, yelling encouragement despite his own uncertainty. “You’ve got this! Get it done, Bucky! Get it done!”

Bucky takes a deep breath, looks across the floor at the opposite corner. He can see the judges, watching his every move, finding every possible little fault in his performance. He stares them down, like a dare. They all know he has to be perfect on this last pass. 

He thinks of Gale. Find your line. 

“Find your line,” Gale whispers in the stands. Benny puts a hand on his knee and squeezes in anticipation. 

Ignoring the slight stinging pain in his leg, Bucky runs, flips his way into his dismount, and launches himself up into the air to complete the triple full. When he hits the floor, that spike of pain shoots through him again, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to stay in control. He landed with one of his heels just barely out of bounds, and he knows that one-tenth deduction will probably cost him the gold, but he stuck the landing perfectly otherwise. He gets too much power on that pass; he always has, and he’s quite frankly surprised this is the only time he’s landed out of bounds the entire routine. He laughs a little bit anyways, because even if it’s not gold, even if that Japanese gymnast beats him out, he fucking got it done. 

He will be only the second American male gymnast to ever win an Olympic medal on floor exercise, and the first since 1976.

Deafening chants of “USA! USA! USA!” go up around the arena, and he salutes before pumping his fist in the air and jumping across the floor, leg be damned. He waves his arms to pump up the crowd, and they cheer for him. Because they know, no matter what country they’re from, what it means for him to be here right now. 

“LET’S GOOOO!” He yells out, and he can hear Curt doing the same as he goes absolutely crazy on the sidelines. When Bucky haphazardly shoves his slides back on his feet and hops down, he jumps right into Curt’s arms as the other gymnast lifts him off his feet, jumping up and down in celebration.

“That’s how it’s done!” Curt exclaims.

If Bucky’s in any pain, as the commentators, his coaches, his friends feared he would be, when he steps up onto the podium for the medal ceremony, no one notices. He hides his slight limp. He waves to the crowd. He can’t stop smiling as he bows his head to receive a silver medal. His third medal of the Paris Olympics. 

He shakes hands, he poses for photos with the other medalists. He blows a kiss to Gale in the stands. He waves to the crowd. He talks to a reporter about what this means to him.

He has one event left. 

—

Bucky sits on the uncomfortable mattress, leaning back against Gale’s warm chest. He’s polishing off one of the infamous chocolate muffins from the dining hall, which he’s been looking forward to all day. Curt snagged it for him earlier that afternoon after Bucky complained about not being able to get to the dining hall to get one himself, and Bucky could have kissed the guy for it. Sure, maybe he still has one more event to go bright and early tomorrow morning, but he’s earned himself a damn muffin and then some. Gale bumps the side of Bucky’s head with his nose, and Bucky raises the muffin up so Gale can have a bite before it’s gone.

Curt and Bucky’s small bedroom is full the night of his floor exercise silver. Tomorrow, he and Curt have rings and vault finals, so it’s a chill night in for them. No drinking or painting the town red or even mingling with the other athletes in the USA House. Bucky and Gale sit together on Bucky’s bed. Curt sits on his own bed, Croz beside him and Brady half laying across them both. Alex sits on the floor in the small space in between, leaning back against Curt’s bed, with Benny also on the floor, leaning against Bucky’s. Marge sat out their little gathering in favor of meeting up with her jumping team, which benny gave her shit for.

Ice is wrapped around Bucky’s knee, which is still sore but doesn’t seem to be seriously damaged. He’s been able to walk fine unless he stays still too long, and Gale took it upon himself to massage his leg earlier in the afternoon (which Bucky totally did not try – and succeed – to turn into a makeout session). Either way, he thinks the soreness might be worth it, because he has three Olympic medals hanging around his neck. And they’re heavy. 

“Maybe you should compete with those weighing you down,” Alex jokes. “Give the rest of us a fighting chance.”

Bucky laughs and holds up his second silver medal, bites down on it like he did for the photos on the podium. “Jealous, much?” 

“Of Olympic all-around gold medalist, comeback kid of the year, John Clarence Egan?” Alex says dramatically. “No. He’s an ass.”

“Oh fuck off!” Bucky laughs and throws his pillow at Alex, who doesn’t have time to dodge and lets it smack him in the chest. Then he takes it for himself and shoves it behind his back. 

“Wait! Bite down on the medal like that again,” Croz orders, motioning to Bucky as he pulls out his phone. 

“Aren’t there enough pictures of me biting an Olympic medal?” Bucky asks. There’s at least several from each event so far this week, and if everyone in this room is being honest, they fully expect him to add another medal to his collection tomorrow morning.

Gale makes to unwind his arm from around Bucky to get out of the frame, but Croz says “No, Buck, you stay there.” Gale arches an eyebrow but slowly wraps his arm securely around Bucky once again, pulling him close.

“Oh! Hold on,” Bucky says. He tells Curt to grab his silver medal, and Curt understands. He pushes himself off the bed, nearly knocking Brady to the floor, and grabs his medal from his bedside table, because that’s obviously the perfect place to store an Olympic medal. Reaching across Bucky’s bed, he motions for Gale to bow his head, and he places the medal around the blonde’s neck. A stand-in for his own eventing silver medal. 

“There,” Bucky says, pressing his fingers to the medal now resting on Gale’s chest. “Très beau.”

“Très beau,” Gale agrees with a soft smile.

“Okay, look over here,” Croz tells them. And he takes their picture.

Bucky decides not to even be shy about it. He posts the photo on Instagram immediately, with the caption “silver medalists ❤️” at the bottom. Bucky biting down on his silver medal with a smile as he leans back against Gale’s chest. His other two medals hanging around his neck. Gale’s arm wrapped around him as he holds up his own silver medal with his other hand, smiling shyly. Both of them in comfy team USA t-shirts. The ice on Bucky’s knee is barely visible at the bottom of the frame.

“Aren’t you two cute,” Benny teases, reaching up to pat Gale on the leg. 

Gale rolls his eyes as Bucky kisses him on the cheek. “We sure are,” Bucky agrees. Then he looks at his teammates on the other side of the room, as if he just remembered something very important. “Did you guys see the adorable pictures of Buck and Whiskey after the medal ceremony?”

The other gymnasts shake their heads, and Bucky insists that they look. Gale blushes, trying to hide his face in Bucky’s hair, but Bucky won’t let him. He pulls out his phone and forces Gale to look at his own post with him for about the hundredth time. Gale may be the one who posted it, but Bucky is the one in love with it, as is the rest of America. It’s been re-posted by the US Equestrian, US Eventing, and Team USA accounts, so millions of people have seen the pictures at this point. Between that, opening ceremonies, and the media tracking his and Bucky’s “love story,” he’s gained hundreds of thousands of followers during the past week alone.

After Gale won his individual silver medal, the first thing he did when he saw Bucky again was shove his phone in his face and say “look at my girl!” It wasn’t even himself he was proud of; it was his horse. As usual. 

Aside from the professional photos that came out later that day – photographs of Gale on the podium, Gale on Whiskey with a pretty second place ribbon attached to her bridle, Gale and Whiskey together as he held up the medal around his neck – there’s also countless non-professional photos, mostly taken by his groom, Kenny, after he got back to the stables that day. 

Bucky’s favorite, though, is a selfie that Gale took, still looking sweaty with his cheeks flushed, hair sticking up in all directions, as he held up the medal. The picture was taken from below, so you can also see Whiskey’s face. Her forelock, which had just been released from a braid, is also sweaty and sticking up in all directions, but she looks like she knows exactly what she just accomplished. Her ears are perked forward and she’s sticking her tongue out at the camera. Bucky’s favorite part is the ecstatic smile on Gale’s face. Him and his mare and nothing but pure exhilaration. 

Bucky wasn’t the only one who liked the picture either. It’s tucked in the middle of the photo set Gale posted that night, but it’s the most shared photo from the entire set, circulating across social media platforms and even on the news. The eventing team had been invited to the Today show to talk about their Olympic success, and they displayed that very picture for everyone tuning in to see. 

Now Bucky looks around, satisfied, as the other guys find the post and instantly like it and comment on how awesome Gale and Whiskey look, because apparently he’s that kind of boyfriend now. The kind that wants anyone and everyone to know how awesome and adorable and successful and sweet his boyfriend is.  

And… boyfriend. Wow. Okay. That’s the first time he’s thought of it that way…

It makes him feel funny. A little scared and uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but also warm. It makes him… happy? Proud.

Before he can really panic too much about it, though, Croz is holding up his hand and saying “Wait wait wait, is it true that the horses fly on a plane called Air Horse One?”

Gale chokes on a laugh, blowing warm breath into Bucky’s hair where he’s still hiding his face. It makes Bucky feel fuzzy. He’s been sitting here, wrapped safe and warm in Gale’s arms as he ices his leg for quite a while already, but he’s suddenly very very aware of it. 

“Yes and no,” Gale says.

“Air Horse One exists,” Benny explains. “But our horses didn’t fly to Paris on it this year.”

“Well what’s the fuckin’ point then?” Curt exclaims.

Gale shrugs. “Just kinda depends what company is available to fly ‘em. It’s pretty much the same treatment no matter what.”

“Didn’t you say the horses have passports?” Bucky asks. Almost experimentally, he leans forward, out of Gale’s hold, under the guise of taking the ice off his leg. He quickly realizes, though, that he really misses the warmth and security of Gale’s embrace, and that information assaults his brain with all the subtlety of a freight train. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why he can’t just admit that he loves this guy and be okay with that and let himself be happy and not question it anymore. But every single time he feels himself coming to a new realization about it, it throws him off guard.

Just let yourself be fuckin’ happy, you idiot, he thinks. 

He realizes Gale is answering his question. “Yeah, they all have to have a passport to travel internationally. Just like us. Whiskey’s technically been to more countries than I have.” Benny scoffs from the floor below them.

Curt gets up and takes the ice pack from Bucky. “You good?” he whispers, no doubt seeing the startled look on his face. He also accepts the medal that Gale hands back to him. 

Bucky nods as he leans forward, basically folding in half as he stretches his leg out, then rubs at the joint.

Gale, who, of course, noticed the concerned exchange between Bucky and Curt, puts a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You need heat next?” he asks.

Bucky’s heart stutters because yes he does need heat, and of course Gale thought about that and wants to make sure Bucky has what he needs because he’s thoughtful and sweet and it’s not like anything Bucky has ever had before. And why does Bucky feel emotional about that?

And Gale and the others were having a totally different conversation but now everyone is looking at Bucky instead because he got freaked out and pulled away and Gale got concerned because of course he did and now Bucky’s face feels hot.

So he just nods and looks at Gale and sees those beautiful blue eyes looking back at him, wide and sweet and concerned. “Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “Yeah, heat would be good.”

Curt gives him a knowing look, flicking his eyes from Bucky to Gale and back, that says almost exactly what Bucky just told himself: stop overthinking this and just be fuckin’ happy that this amazing guy likes you. Curt knows everything Bucky has been through in the last several years. He knows how stupid Bucky can be. And he knows that Gale is one of the best things that could ever happen to him. If Bucky would just accept that.

“I’ll get the heating pad,” Curt tells him, with another look that says now lean back into his arms and quit bein’ stupid.

So Bucky does. He sighs, and he lets himself lean back, and Gale’s arm immediately wraps back around him like it belongs there, and then gentle lips are being pressed to the top of Bucky’s head. And Bucky lets himself smile again.

“Wait what country has Whiskey been to that you haven’t?” Croz asks, now that the attention is off Bucky again.

“Austria,” Gale replies. “That’s where she was born.”

Benny pops his head up and looks, surprised, at Gale. “She was born in Austria?! I thought she was born in Germany.”

“What?” Gale laughs. “Just ‘cause she’s a Hanoverian?”

“Well, yeah,” Benny nods.

Gale shakes his head. “No. Austria. I’ve been to Germany.”

“You imported your horse from fuckin’ Austria?” Brady asks, incredulous. This makes Bucky snort, because clearly Brady knows nothing about these ridiculous equestrian folk. Not that Bucky does. But he’s learning a lot.

Gale nods, and Benny adds, “My gelding came from France. Just about an hour from here.”

Curt returns with the heating pad and helps Bucky wrap it around his leg. “15 minutes, okay? No more.” Bucky nods and Curt returns to his own bed, manhandling Brady so he can sit back down. Brady promptly flops back across his lap.

“Fuckin’ equestrians,” Alex mutters, shaking his head. “Buying horses from Europe and then full sending themselves over shit at break-neck speeds.”

“Yes, that is the motto of FEI eventing,” Gale deadpans, and that makes Bucky laugh, too.

“And he’s funny,” Brady exclaims, nearly smacking Curt in the face as he throws his hand up dramatically. “Damn, Bucky. You gotta tell me where you found this guy so I can find one just like him.”

“On a plane,” Bucky says through a yawn. He grabs onto Gale’s hand, which is resting against his side, and pulls it up close to his chest, interlacing their fingers. “A very special plane.”

This somehow leads into a weird conversation about dating horror stories that Bucky doesn’t much feel like contributing to. The whole world already knows his biggest dating horror story, after all. How much worse can it get after a crazy ex forces your coming out on a global scale?

He’s started letting himself drift off instead, his eyes blinking tiredly closed as his breathing slows, and he settles even more fully into Gale’s arms.  

“How’s your leg?” Gale asks him eventually. Bucky blinks his eyes open again when he feels Gale shift, leaning forward to carefully unwrap the heating pad from his leg. The caring gesture makes Bucky feel as warm as the heat did. “It’s been 20 minutes,” Gale whispers. “Don’t tell Curt, but I understand wanting that heat just a little longer.”

Bucky smiles sleepily. “It’s alright,” he says. “A little sore. Somethin’ fuckin’ weird happened when I landed the second to last pass.”

“I know,” Gale says soothingly. “You gonna be alright for tomorrow?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

—

Bucky has always liked rings. Any other event, the slightest inkling of nerves can have a domino effect on your entire body, and one second you’re doing fine, but the next, a bit of tension in your neck can cause you to land all wrong or smack your foot on the apparatus. Next to no one, for example, ever wants to start all-around on pommel horse, because if you are anything other than completely relaxed and perfectly focused, the odds are high that you fuck it up.

Many of the other events are not much better, in that way. There’s no room for nerves or fear on the competition floor, because no matter how good you think you are at hiding them, your body will betray you. It’s Bucky’s biggest concern this season, in his first handful of competitions back after near-certain career death. He’s used to being the cockiest bastard on the floor, for better or for worse. He’s used to having next to no doubt about his capabilities. In the past few months, though, he’s found himself still battling the remnants of the anxiety and the fear that nearly kept him from returning. He fears the pain that he felt when he flew off that high bar. He fears another set back. 

After nearly having his career ripped away, after crawling his way back, he fears losing it again. For good.

Still rings are the most forgiving for people like Bucky, who have the brute strength to pour their entire being into that routine. That’s what still rings are about – pure strength. It’s about holding your body as still as can be in positions that other people think look impossible. It creates an illusion of sorts, making people wonder how it can be real. It can be almost meditative, despite the burning in his muscles. All he has to do is hang on and channel the wayward energy in his mind and body into staying still. No matter what Bucky is feeling, he can pour it all into rings and it’ll hardly cost him a thing.

In Tokyo, it was anger. He became known for “angry gymnastics” after his sister died. Between that and the pandemic, he was mad at the whole world, and he shoved all of that emotion into his gymnastics. He limited his focus to one event, and then another, making sure every single move was perfect, crisp, strong out of pure spite and adrenaline. He pushed his way through all of it, straight-faced and with a sheer determination to keep going. Don’t look around, don’t look back, don’t look forward, just do.

The rings are served well by that kind of emotion, and that’s what got him his first silver medal on this apparatus three years ago.

He’s not angry anymore, though. That’s another thing the commentators have caught on to. He’s not angry. He looks like his normal, cocky, carefree self, just having fun out there. The angry, rough gymnastics he was doing three years ago has refined itself into something elegant, strong, unbreakable. He came out the other side somehow better than before, they say. 

He’s not angry anymore. But he isn’t always carefree either.

He’s relieved all he has left is rings. Because he’s worried anything else would betray the anxiety slowly creeping over him, the exhaustion weighing him down, the pain crawling up his leg like a vine. He can try to push it away, convince even himself that he doesn’t feel it. But the apparatus always knows. The body always knows. Even if your mind doesn’t. If Bucky’s learned a single lesson through the process of returning to the gym, it’s that.

In the hall outside the warm-up gym, Beacon keeps gently booping John’s bad leg like he knows something is wrong with it before staring up into John’s eyes and wagging his tail. Don’t be dumb, he seems to be saying. Don’t hurt yourself.

“I know, bud,” Bucky says, reaching down to pat Beacon on the head with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be alright, though.”

“The dog’s tryin’ to tell you something,” Curt points out as he sits on the ground beside Bucky, stretching out his hamstrings. Rings and vault finals are on the same day, so Bucky and Curt arrived at Bercy arena together, bright and early this morning. “You sure you’re alright?” 

Curt is still worried about the way Bucky landed on that pass yesterday. It was just the right kind of slightly off that it could easily have screwed up something in Bucky’s knee, and he’s concerned that it was something more than some ice and heat last night could fix.

Bucky just shrugs as he straps on his brace. He’d been debating over whether or not he should wear it for rings, since the entire routine relies on upper body strength alone aside from the dismount. But after yesterday, even he can admit that the brace is probably a good call right now.

“It’s a little sore,” he admits. “I mean, I’ve done three all-arounds and an extra floor routine in less than a week. I think that’s to be expected.”

Curt frowns and pauses his stretching to sit up and look Bucky in the eye. “Would you tell me if it was bad?” He knows what it is to push through pain to hit that one more routine. Just one more vault. One more pass. It’s the nature of the sport, always has been. That toxicity of gymnastics might be getting better now, but every athlete is the same. Every gymnast. Just one more. I can do one more.

Bucky shrugs again. “I’m fine, Curt. Just one more event. And it’s my best.”

He smirks before kneeling down in front of Beacon and giving the dog a good scratch and a kiss on the head. “Got my good luck charm and everything. What can go wrong?”

He pats Curt on the shoulder, and he hopes to God he’s right.

Today is Bucky’s fifth day walking through that doorway to thunderous applause in Bercy arena, and no matter what, it always feels surreal. Today is his last day in this stadium, and Bucky takes a deep breath as he walks out, smiling brightly and taking it all in one last time. He knows better than anyone that the career of a gymnast is uncertain. He hopes this isn’t his last Olympics; he thinks, if he plays his cards right, he could make it to LA. But there are no guarantees in this sport, or in any sport, especially after the injury he’s had. So he looks around him at the Olympic rings on the walls and the packed stadium cheering “USA! USA! USA!” as he walks out. And he actually lets himself think, for a moment, about how goddamn lucky he is to be here.

The Tokyo Olympics were a mess for him, between COVID and the death of his sister looming over him. Paris has been the exact opposite, with team and individual success, good times with his friends, meeting Gale, getting to actually be with other people. He has loved every single moment.

Despite having to prepare for vault finals, taking place in just a couple of hours, Curt manages to leave the back gym and get to the competition floor for Bucky’s turn on rings. He stands to the side of the rings podium with the coaching staff, calling out things like “You got this!” and “Show them what’s what” and “Just remember, you’re a fuckin’ Greek God! Buck said so!”

Bucky chokes as he takes a drink from his water bottle, looking over at Curt and mouthing what the fuck?

“It’s true! He did!” Curt yells back.

Bucky laughs and shakes his head. Somewhere inside, he knows Curt said that on purpose to get him to relax, but hey, if it works it works. His eyes scan the crowd as he adjusts the ring grips on his hands and rubs chalk over them. He quickly finds the rest of his team, and right beside them are Gale and Benny, who have taken the time to be here this morning before rushing to Versailles to watch equestrian in the afternoon. 

Bucky waves, as has become custom this week. As if he can’t start his routine without waving. Gale smiles at him and waves back. 

“Go John!!!!” Benny yells. He’s quickly joined by the other gymnasts, who get to their feet and jump up and down obnoxiously, yelling his name. Bucky shakes his head and re-focuses on preparing for his last event of the Paris Olympics. He checks his brace one last time.

When the green light finally comes on by the judges’ table and the announcer calls his name, he salutes, and then he jumps up to grab the rings. His coach grabs his legs from behind and lifts him higher while he adjusts his hold, then eases him down so he’s hanging from the rings, arms straight. Bucky’s on his own. 

He rotates himself upwards, keeping his whole body perfectly straight, so his legs swing up over his head and then back down again in a full 360, leading into his first strength hold, a cross. “The iron cross,” they call it, because the gymnast is meant to look immobile, still as a statue, a pillar of strength. Bucky has spent years perfecting it. He spreads his fingers out, letting go of the rings so his hands rest flat on them, just to show off a little. It’ll make the commentators laugh, because even though it’s such a small gesture, it’s so characteristically John – a little bit of a show-off.

He lets himself drop down, feeling that familiar pull straining his shoulder muscles before he pulls his hips upward, folding himself in half with his upper body upside down, legs straight, toes pointed towards the ground. He holds himself like that for just a moment, gathering his strength, before launching himself upwards, flipping his legs up towards the ceiling so he’s upside down again, landing in an inverted cross. His muscles ache as he holds himself up, arms out to the sides as straight as possible.

Don’t wobble, he thinks, trying to keep his legs still and straight, toes pointed towards the ceiling. 2 seconds. Each strength hold must be held for 2 seconds, but sometimes those 2 seconds feel like forever.

Letting himself drop out of the hold with a quick exhale of relief, he throws himself into a couple of swing elements, flipping around first in a tucked position and then in a piked position until he stops stock still in a perfect maltese. His body is perfectly parallel to the floor, his arms extended below him, holding him steady. One. Two. 

From there he sinks down until his body is level with his arms, his arms out to the sides. A maltese cross. One. Two. 

Relax. Drop, hang upside down. Flip up into a handstand. Hold. Drop. Up into another handstand. 

And then the kicker. The skill that, if he can hit, will indisputably secure him another medal in this event. It’s the reason his difficulty score is the highest of anyone here. The reason he qualified first in the world for rings. 

He used to flip himself up into another maltese cross, impressive and highly valued in itself. But before his accident, he’d been working on another skill that he’s wanted to achieve for years. When he came back to gymnastics after months of being told he never would, with his leg giving him grief but his upper body strong as ever, he threw himself into perfecting this skill because, if absolutely nothing else, he still had rings.

First he does another swing element, flipping himself up until he stops, perfectly immobile, in another cross. One. Two.

Then ever so slowly, he tilts himself back, his legs extending out in front of him until he’s parallel to the ground again but facing upward. His arms are extended out to the side, level with the rest of his body. An inverted maltese cross.

His shoulders burn. His core. His back. His everything. But this skill has been attempted by so few, and done well by almost none, that of course John Egan took one look at it and went “I can do that.” 

So he did it. He’s doing it.

He competed the skill in qualifying, but chose to omit it from all around in an attempt to save his upper body. He made the decision to bring it back today, because he can’t resist a little showing off. And, he won’t lie, he wants that damn gold medal. It’s only the third time he’s ever performed this skill in competition – once at Trials, and twice in Paris, and he grits his teeth and forces himself to breathe through it as the two requisite seconds seem to pass in slow motion. One… Two…

But finally, they do pass. Fighting the urge to gasp in relief, he lowers himself out of the strength hold and flips up to one final handstand. A couple flips on the rings to build momentum, and then he’s launching himself up into his dismount, flipping and twisting through the air until his feet hit the ground and he sticks the landing perfectly.

The moment his feet hit the mat, the entire arena is cheering and applauding for what he just accomplished. Even in a foreign country, an unmistakable chant of “USA! USA! USA!” goes up around the stadium for John Egan. He forces a smile, feeling a sense of pride wash over him for a fraction of a second. It’s just too bad that it can’t last, because the moment his feet hit the mat, no matter how perfect of a landing it was, he felt the pain.

Pain shooting up through his left leg, filling him with some instant, vague sense of dread and nausea that he knows he has to push through right now.

He keeps that damn smile on his face. And why not, he just gave the best rings performance of his life. He hit the skill he’s dreamed of hitting for years. He’s in Paris, and a French stadium is blaring with a chant for the United States, for him.

He salutes the judges, because he isn’t officially done with the routine until he does. He pumps a tired fist in the air. It’s uncharacteristic, not like his typical scream of “LET’S GO” as he hypes up the crowd, much like he did after floor. But he just… can’t. He can’t right now.

“Fuck,” he mutters instead. 

He needs…

He needs…

He lowers himself slowly to the ground with a grimace, pulling his left knee up close to his chest as he leans back on his left hand. Then even that is too much, and he lets himself fall onto his back so he’s staring up at the ceiling, staring up at the bright lights that blind him.

“Bucky!” Curt yells from the side. “John?”

The USA chant disintegrates into nothing as the stadium goes silent.

...

...

Please don't be mad.

Much of Bucky's rings routine comes from Asher Hong's in 2023 (right through the first maltese cross)

After the maltese cross, I have Bucky doing an inverted maltese cross (or inverted swallow), which is kinda insane

Side note: I would die for Stephen Nedoroscik ❤️❤️

[aubins]

TOA Anniversary Munday

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: darcy, but i also go by qiu!

Pronouns: they/he

Birthday (no year): january 9th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? sea & gmt+8

How long is your roleplay experience? god who knows HAHA not me i fear

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? .........kik..........and then amino when i really got into it a bit more lmfao

How were you introduced to TOA? through the heart & soul ad on twitter!

Do you have any pets? unfortunately not i must live vicariously through family & friends

What is your favorite time of year and why? i do love the -ber months generally. it's nice to have cooler weather as someone who lives in a tropical country though it's not by much these days i fear

What is your IRL occupation? i'm a full-time university student atm studying psychology!

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? writing of course but for less obvious answers: piano, photography, badminton, archery, history, mathematics, languages, etc etc i like learning basically haha

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? 13 sentinels, somnium files, life is strange, genshin impact, honkai: star rail, zenless zone zero, pokemon. prosekai sometimes. and i love love the ace attorney series so much miles edgeworth among us is the funniest shit i've ever seen

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: fairy type! and it's both mimikyu & ditto really i couldn't pick but i think i said ditto last year so i will say mimikyu this year haha

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! i used to do international math competitions when i was younger! haven't done since the pandemic but they were good fun i do love math & competition haha so put them together i'm bound to enjoy myself

How did you get into Fire Emblem? my brother bought fe3h & i decided to play it too. i simply never made my way out of that rabbit hole

What Fire Emblem games have you played? fe11, fe12, fe16 (+ hopes), & fe17 + i've watched playthroughs of tellius & sov! nothing much different from last year except i've since watched a playthrough of awakening as well. still haven't finished my actual awakening playthrough but one day...

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: i said fe3h for my first last year but i think it might have actually been heroes now that i'm really thinking about it LOL not seriously in the slightest though i'm p sure i dropped it after the first few days until i properly got into fire emblem. don't have much of a favorite but i enjoy 3hopes purely because musou gameplay tickles a very specific part of my brain

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! yuri, alear, est, shez, and lucina

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! yuri. to no one's suprise least of all my own but also the whole ashen wolves house really. you could say i really like those guys in particular

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 nope

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Three Houses: claude & yuri- Engage: gave the pact ring to veyle my first playthrough then reset it after. honestly i don't know though maybe gregory or timerra

Favorite Fire Emblem class? i like mage cannoneer. funny guys

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? dancer except i play you a silly tune on my keyboard. high speed & dexterity and ok magic stats then everything else is probably dogshit LMFAO

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? fear the deer!!!

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? - Boons: sword, reason - Banes: axes, faith, heavy armor - Budding Talent: bow

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? solm is my favorite but i'd probably want to live in firene

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 separate letters

Current TOA muses: just this guy right here

Past TOA muses? marianne, caeda, est, kvasir, clarisse, & timerra! if there's been anyone else i'm very sorry to have forgotten you haha

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? miss marianne von edmund :softsmile: anyway probably not & she's in good hands now besides

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? i'm sure i do but i wouldn't be able to name it myself haha but i like to think i tend to have some kind of variety in character archetypes and tropes i enjoy writing

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? if i like them enough to put in the effort i could write most anyone i think

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? anything that significantly alters the relationship between two characters. even better if it's for the worse really i do enjoy antagonistic relationships. but yeah i loooove developing relationships between muses. especially with a muse that barely trusts anyone besides themself. yuri never does what i want them anyway to do so it's great for me, really

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? i would really love to write yuri during their time as a student at the officers academy. or an au where they are a student at the officers academy in present time. i'd like to explore their role as count rowe's “son” more in depth one day as one of if not their longest lasting identity (excluding their actual one obviously LOL). less specific but i just love aus in general i would love to do more aus

Favorite TOA-related memories? est & sirius getting their attacks redirected at one another and whiffing all of them always makes me laugh. the harmony lance phalanx strats were also funny i do think fondly of that arena. happyland was really fun though one of my favorite events so far for sure :] i blow a kiss to north island yuri's home away from home & east island week 4

Present or past tense? present tense is my general go to for roleplay but i don't mind either or

Normal size text, small text, no preference? small text is easier for me to parse personally but i don't have any preference from my partners

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 not so much delusions as they are old muses but i do mourn that i never quite got kvasir & timerra off the ground as much as i'd have liked to. if i ever find the time i'd love to revisit both one day. shez is also a constant plague upon my mind i just love a purple guy what can i say

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

Peri: Shadowheart, hands down. He gets along well with all of them but their specific brands of sarcasm & bitchiness immediately meshed. They have a lot of respect for and care about each other too, of course, but they first bonded over gossip and wine. He sees Wyll as a younger brother and he & Jaheira kinda just organically adopted each other as surrogate family. His playthrough for sure has had the strongest "found family" vibes so far. He and Lae'zel were a bit stand-offish at first (mostly because he was dodging her "why tf do you seem so off" questions), but he enjoys swapping stories about the different worlds they've been to.

Corentin: Astarion! A bit predictable for a durge run, but they appreciate that he actually took them seriously when they talked about The Thoughts™ and didn't treat them poorly because of it. Corentin's not great at pestering people so they don't usually have good comebacks for him, but they've been as much a rock to him as he has to them throughout their travels together. Lots of insomnia-fueled cuddle piles, I think. The next closest is Shadowheart, but Karlach's pretty up there too. Their relationship has been recovering from the coronation revelations now that Gortash is dead and they've had time to talk about it. They've held back a bit from the others for fear both of rejection and of hurting them, but the combination of the group taking new information in stride (for the most part) and their duel with Orin drawing near has helped them put down their walls a bit.

Diodore: she and Karlach get along amazingly (something something "not the monster you think I am", something something "I'd rather die than go back to the place I've left behind"). They clicked almost immediately. Karlach expressed concern about Dora's budding relationship with Astarion when no one else did and, even though it ended up working out, Dora knowing that she would 1) notice if something went wrong and 2) be in her corner stuck with her; it's the first time she's had someone like that in her life. I think she and Halsin get along well, too. They're happy to exchange information about the flora & fauna of their home regions and something about the combination of an intense archdruid and equally intense ancients paladin creates a...vibe, to say the least. Dora + Wyll + Karlach (dragging Astarion along with them) is the most "Chaotic Good" party combination, while Halsin + Dora + Astarion + Lae'zel is the most unsettling. She and Shadowheart butted heads at first but they've since gotten much closer.

Candor: honestly, he's been flitting around so much and it's so early on for him that he doesn't have a set best friend yet. He does like antagonizing Wyll, though. You know that one "you do whatever you like!" meme? Yeah. He gets on fine with everyone, but I think he's got a sense of competition with Astarion that may keep them from getting close, at least at first.

Io: Shadowheart. It's the Cleric Connection™. Because they're my tav for a multiplayer game I've been prioritizing Lae'zel (who they're romancing) for going out & about, so they don't have many interactions with the others outside of camp, but they get along with all of them just fine.

Arbutus: will not have friends. Probably. I think he'll mesh well with Minthara but he is set on claiming his birthright.

We talk a lot about who we're romancing in bg3 but who's your tav/durge's best friend?

what's their friendship like?

[solarwonux]

28. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

50.  “I’m not going to touch you, we’re in public”

vernon x f!reader

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, smut, public sex?? kinda, fingering, breast play, orgasm denial if you squint. and minimal editing.

note: hello, I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you so much for reading this and please let me know your thoughts.Just a heads up I’m going on vacation tomorrow so there won’t be an upload tomorrow. So I shall see you all on Monday. 

p.s. send me a prompt for either svt or bts heheheh.xxx

Masterlist || Prompts

No drinking tonight.

At least that’s what you told yourself before stepping foot into your best friend’s house. The minute you walked in, a red solo cup made its way into your hand, soon, one tequila shot turned into two, then three, then four. Until you were standing in front of the tv, toy microphone in your hand as you tried your very best to remember the lyrics to Baby by Justin Bieber.

It was no use, your mind was fuzzy and the words had started to bleed into one another in your head. But you were determined, there was no way in hell you would let Kwon Soonyoung beat you at karaoke, not when he was far drunker than you. At least you still had control of your limbs, he on the other hand could barely keep himself from falling every few seconds.

“If I win you’re going to have to kiss me.” He slurred, pointing his microphone at you.

Disgusted, you furrowed your brows. Newfound determination surging through your alcohol-filled veins. “In your dreams, Hoshi, my lips are staying far away from yours.”

“That’s what you said last time.” He turned his attention to the tv, the countdown displayed. Three, “I hope you moisturized them well enough for me, I don’t want to be kissing the Sahara desert.”

Two, you scoff, “that was one time.” You raise the mic up to your lips, squinting. The brightness of the screen felt like it was burning you blind, but you were motivated to finally beat Soonyoung at his own game.

One, “and it was the worst moment of my life.”

Start, “You know you love me I-”

Vernon steps in front of the tv, arms spread out wide, blocking the disappearing words. “Move Vernon!” You stand on your toes trying to look over his shoulder, his outstretched arms wrap around your shoulders turning you away from the screen. “What the fuck Vernon, I’m going to lose.”

Quietly he takes the mic from your hands handing it to Soonyoung and pushes you out of the living room, “You need to sober up.” He whispers ledding you out of the house and into the backyard.

You huff, crossing your arms in front of you and stomping your feet. This is the main reason why you didn’t want to drink. You always turned into a whining, overly, competitive, overly emotional child, and Vernon was always stuck taking care of you. As much as it annoyed him, to nurse you every time it happened. He would never complain, he found it amusing and adorable.

“I’m not that drunk.” You whisper, looking down at your feet, ashamed, toeing with the clean-cut grass underneath you.

Vernon chuckles and grabs your arm, leading you slowly to the porch swing facing away from the house where the two of spent the first thirty minutes of the party making out. Hidden away from everyone. “You were about to kiss Soonyoung, you are very much drunk.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to sit down, while you complain.

He crouches down in front of you, placing a water bottle and some painkillers in your hand. “Drink.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You uncap the water bottle and throw your head back downing the pills quickly. “I was going to win.” You say, then taking another swing of water, chugging it like you haven’t had anything to drink in years.

Vernon smiles, putting his hand at the end of the bottle, “Alright slow down, water is not what I want you to choke on.” He smirks. Your eyes grow wide, and before you could stop it, you were spitting water in his face.

“Vern, oh my god, I’m sorry.” You put the bottle down and look around for something to dry his face, while he threw his head back laughing. “You can’t say things like that.” You groan, covering your face with your hands, embarrassed.

Laughing, he moves your hands from your face, his lips close to yours. “Why not, no ones around? I don’t have to watch my mouth when it’s just us.”

You turn your head sucking in a breath. Though your head still felt fuzzy you weren’t as drunk anymore. His words and piercing stare were enough to sober you up, at least enough to feel how wet you were between your legs. 

He places his hand on the back of your neck, his breath hits your lips. “What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?” He kisses you lightly. His lips barely molding into yours, knowing it would leave you wanting more.

“N-Nothing,” you wrap your arms around his neck, attempting to bring him closer. He resists, resting his hands on your waist and tilting his head curiously, his thumb playing with the hem of your crop top.

“If you tell me I’ll forgive you for ever wanting to kiss Soonyoung.”

“I wasn’t going to kiss him, I was going to win!” You pout.

He leans in, “We both know that’s not true, you can barely do simple math when drunk.” His lips were so close you could lick them if you were to stick out your tongue. As much as you wanted to, you pushed down the idea, knowing that Vernon wouldn’t be happy if you did.

“I can barely do simple math when I’m sober, your argument is invalid.” Cheekily you pluck his beanie from his head, throwing it aside. “Now please touch me.” You say, running your hands through his hair, swiping your tongue slowly over your lips.

He stands up from his crouching position and sits down next to you. “I’m not going to touch, we’re in public.” He snakes an arm around your shoulder, tugging you close to the side of his body. “Now don’t make a sound, unless you want me to punish you here where someone can see if they were to just walk over.” He moves your leg, putting it over his lap.

You rest your head on top of his shoulder, “fuck, okay, I need you, please.”

“Patience my good girl.” He smiles kissing the top of your head. “Now open your legs a little more for me.” You oblige, sitting up a little straighter, while his hand travels down your body, sneaking its way inside your shirt and cupping your boob. You let out a low whine when he pinches your nipple through the lace of your thin bra.

A few times during the night he could see your nipples peeking through, making his mouth water. He had slapped Wonwoo a few times up the head for staring, sending him a warning glare that made Wonwoo shake his head in disbelief. He had to control himself from pulling you into one of the vacant rooms and taking you against the door so everyone could hear how good he made you feel. “What do you want me to do?” He pulled on your nipple once more, distracting you from the way he toyed with the button of your jeans.

“Your fingers, please fuck me with your fingers.” You whisper, taking the initiative to unbutton your jeans for him. “Please, you didn’t let me cum earlier, I need it.”

Vernon chuckled, “Who says you will now?” He pulls down your zipper, his hand finding its way inside your panties.

You look up at him pouting, “I’ve been good, please.”

He drags his fingers over your slit, groaning at how wet you were already. Sometimes it amazed him how easily he could turn you on. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and say something out of pocket to have you dripping for him. He loved the way your body reacted to him, the way your pussy took his fingers, mouth, and cock. It felt like heaven to him and he could never get enough.

“We will see, now kiss me.” He squeezes your boob and presses two of his finger over your clit. Without hesitation, you capture his lips with yours in a needy kiss. A low groan escaping him, dying against your lips.

He begins to slowly rub small figure eights over your swollen bud, building you up. You moan against his lips, hot tongues meshing together, teeth clattering in hot feverish need. You start lifting your hips into his hand, wishing he would just give you more.

Finally, Vernon inserts a finger inside of you and moves it with slow precision. You pull his head closer, tugging on the roots of his hair, whimpering against him. It felt so fucking good, you never wanted this moment to end.

He breaks the kiss, placing a soft one against your temple, releasing his grip on your boob. He smiles at you, pushing your head gently, laying it down against his shoulder. “Does it feel good?” He kisses your head, inserting another finger inside of you, stretching you out.

“Mhm, s’good.” You close your eyes in pleasure.

“Good, you’re amazing for me angel.” Vernon picks up the pace of his fingers, planting his feet on the ground, causing the porch swing to move underneath the two of you. It was driving you insane how innocent the two of you looked from inside the house. How unsuspecting everything he was doing to you looked. It excited you and it only made you want to come undone even more.

Vernon kept his ministrations, doubling his speed, while his thumb played with your clit. The added pleasure made you lift your hips, chasing his palm. He snickered, “are you close?” He says pressing his fingers into your g-spot, humming with approval when he felt you clench around him.

You nod, “yes, don’t, fuck, don’t stop please.” You plead, burying your face into his shoulder, biting his shirt to keep your moans from spilling out. The pleasure was building up faster than you could keep up. The knot in the pit of your stomach threatening to break from how fast he was fucking you with his fingers.

“Cum around my fingers angel. I want to feel how tight you get for me.” He whispers in your ear, pushing into your harder and faster than before, while cradling your head, soothing his fingers into your scalp. The contrast was driving you crazy, acting like the caring boyfriend out in the open. Instead of the one that had you begging on your knees for his cock behind closed doors.

“I-I’m cumming.” you whimper, biting down into his skin, you let your orgasm blissfully wash over, squeezing your pussy hard around his digits.

He hummed helping you ride out your high until he could feel your body twitch from the sensitivity. You were breathing hard, watching as he took his fingers out and placed them in his mouth. Sensually lapping up your release looking deeply into your eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that you were outdoors you would’ve gotten down on your knees in front of him to suck him dry.

“Are you sober now?” He does up the button of your jeans, kissing your nose gently.

“I can’t believe you just made me cum in my pants.” You shake your head, pulling him into a hug. “I was never that drunk.”

“I know, but now I get an excuse to keep your underwear.” He winks at you and stands up, extending his arms for you to take. “But now I need you to get out your acting chops so I can take you back upstairs and to bed.”

You smile wickedly and nod, lacing your fingers in his, letting him pull you up. “I’ll even add in the tears for free.”

“You’re an anomaly angel.”

“It’s what keeps you coming back for me.”

[nerdy-simp-7120]

hi! if you're comfortable writing this, could i ask for a scenario? this has been in the back of my head for a while.

what would be the reaction of the brothers + dateables of watching mc play resident evil in the dimitrescu castle? who would be down bad the most

thank you! feel free to ignore this if you don't want to write this ofc

I love this ask (stan tall vampire lady). The only thing is that I accidentally turned it into a “how they feel about the game.” I managed to add in some parts with MC playing as well to make up for it

Update: I literally finished the request yesterday but my wifi went down and I lost everything  😩 😩

I also wrote this in the middle of the night so sorry if there are any errors! Enjoy!

Warnings: cursing.

How the OM! characters would react to you playing Resident Evil (Dimitrescu Castle edition)

Lucifer

Will not care at first

"I hold no interest in such trivial simulations."

His weakness? Being a simp for you.

He decides to look into the game a bit more in private later on.

Will lowkey practice the game

If you ever catch him playing it, do not say anything because he will stop immediately, deny everything, and might not ever do it again

With time, however, Lucifer will come to master the game.

Here comes the showing off.

When you're rambling about the game with Levi, Lucifer will join the conversation and you two will be like "wow, boomer knows something for once--"

Or when you're struggling on a part of the game he will be like, "hand it over"

Before expertly getting through that part.

Can defeat Lady Dimitrescu if you ask him to but be careful cause he might make you beg

sadistic bastard

or you can be a badass and show him your skills

Will be a tad shocked at how easily you handled it but won't let it show (okay Elsa)

Also proud though

Lucifer's internal monologue: “That’s right- show them how it’s done, Y/n.”

Mammon

Scared.

Will watch you play and cover his eyes during every battle

"wHAT IS THAT?!" at everything you come across

I hope you're good at playing one-handed because you'll have to use the other hand to hold his throughout the entire thing

Admires you're bravery but would never admit it

"You were horrible! ...N-nice job beating the game, not that I c-care or anything. You sucked anyways!"

Not even 10 seconds later...

"Can I watch you play again?"

Comes to find that the faces you make are adorable: when you're concentrating on a battle, when you win, find a valuable item, etc

He loves being able to see how you're feeling up close.

If you catch him staring when you take a break or something he'll blush and either ask you if you have a staring problem or that you have something on your face

He may or may not buy cheap merch (a tiny key chain of Lady Dimitrescu or your favorite character) for you, all the while spewing lame excuses

Please bear with him- he's trying.

Leviathan

"YOU ALSO LIKE RESIDENT DEVIL?!?? Ah! I-I mean..."

Congrats, you just found yourself someone to discuss the game with

Is open to cosplay the characters with you

You two will have competitions to see who can beat the game faster.

You both also share theories with each other all the time

Or simply discuss the characters together

He purposefully stays quiet to hear you ramble on and on- dude finds it adorable

You two also sometimes argue debate over a character name or event in the game

Because while you have Resident Evil

He only knows Resident Devil

This is the equivalent of Devilgram and Instagram

I mean

They’re the same,

But a couple things were altered, y’know, to prevent copyright

So yes, there are definitely a few quarrels here and there

But all in all, it’s a fun gamer bud experience

Don’t tell him I told you but he thinks it’s hot when you show off your badass skills in a boss fight

Satan

He plays it on the lowkey.

Not because he’s embarrassed

But because he partially takes his anger out on the characters

During gory scenes, he imagines it’s him torturing Lucifer, fueling his determination to win

A calculated person, Satan is a smart player

But there are times when he’s particularly angry and he becomes a reckless one, jumping into fights impetuously

This is where you come in and beat the enemy for him

He may get angrier, thinking you are underestimating him

But, for the sake of the person he loves, he calms down knowing you didn’t mean to offend him

A small part in the back of his head also admires you for being able to handle the fight a ton better than he did

Congratulations, you just earned yourself the great Satan’s respect (resident evil-wise).

Asmodeus

“Oh my, I never knew you were into such gory games! Does this mean you’re into blood play, because I know many things about--”

He may look carefree on the outside

But on the inside?

Let’s take a look, shall we?

Holy shit

What the fu--

Jesus christ, can you pull a move like that in real life?

He needs to be careful to not piss you off.

If you can handle this, who knows what you could be capable of?

Hold on.

Wait, you look so concentrated

Eeep! How cute!

Anyways, it ends with him snapping a bunch of pictures 

Keeps them for himself and may brag to his brothers about how he got some “special” shots of you

Obviously never elaborates on what the special part means to keep his dear siblings on edge because, what the hell, they want to know what these special shots are

Would not play the game because there’s “tOo MuCh BlOoDsHeD”

We all know he’s most likely seen his fair share of bloodshed

“What if the adrenaline gives me acne?”

He’s probably just bad at the game--

Verdict: Asmo is a simp and not afraid to flaunt it.

Beel

...Are you okay?

Do you think about homicide--?

Oh, that lady looks nice.

Huh, she’s 9′6″??

What’s her name? Lady Dimitrescu?

Okay-- WAIT WHY IS SHE TURNING INTO THAT??

Not scared, just a tad bit concerned 

Poor Beel, concerned for Lady D :’)

Also, seeing the death’s of Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra hit different

Because he know what it’s like to lose a sibling.

Safe to say he understands Alcina’s pain when she raged about her children being dead.

Also concerned about how the gore could affect you

Because isn’t stuff like this supposed to traumatize humans?

Would support you regardless though

And thinks that you’re really brave for playing the game and still being able to stand strong

On another note, Beel decided to make small flower graves for the three sisters and Alcina because he’s adorable and kind like that

Belphegor

Likes the game but is too lazy to play himself

Regularly watches Satan play (or at least as much as he can before deciding it’s nap time)

I hope you enjoy Belphie using you as a body pillow and watching you play from now on 

Makes small comments here and there to help you out

“To your left... Oh, and open the window- yeah, that one.”

Will smirk, impressed, when you deal with the fights and win yourself without his comments.

“That’s my Y/n”

(Sorry I don’t know what else to put for him :’))

Diavolo

“Is this a human trend?” meme

Will watch excitedly and “oooo” whenever you do something cool

Be careful though, because the questions will not stop as you play

“What’s that? I see. What’s it for? How do you win the game? Who’s that character? Why can’t you do this? What about--?”

Diavolo, you’re awesome and all, but please

shush

On the inside, is also one that might be a tad concerned about your mental health because doesn’t that gore traumatize humans?

Wait, you do this for entertainment?

...

Another warning: he will shower you in merchandise from the game

I am not above the fact that this man has a game room 

And he will try to master the game

Casually pushes all his paperwork over to Lucifer so he can play Resident Evil

RIP Luci

Unfortunately, Diavolo will have trouble grasping the game and how it works

You will have to explain many things to him

Good luck- he’s a bit of a boomer (but willing to learn) and may or may not get distracted staring at you

But anyways, he enjoys engaging in the competitions you and Levi have

Whether it be playing as well or simply watching

He just loves to see you happy

Barbatos

Oh my, what’s this?

Will watch you play

and constantly criticize how filthy the Dimitrescu castle is

“Do they have any idea how many rats this can attract?”

Barbatos, your weakness is showing.

Seeing you so happy while playing the game helps him relax from his daily troubles tasks

He rewards you with a pat on the head any time you beat a foe

When Diavolo goes over to the HoL or when you come over to play in he silently cheers you on in the background.

Solomon

Yuh

Is educated on the game and knows his shit as the only other human 

Maybe knows a bit too much of the game

You will later come to find out that, somewhere in his mass tangle of shady connections, he knows a developer

Might give you tips and tricks to get on higher levels

But never, and I mean never, challenge him like you would with Levi to see who can beat the game faster

Because he will beat you by a seconds on purpose, just to piss you of

all the while doing that dark, shady chuckle

Asshole

But anyways, if you manage to finesse and beat him, he will be 

So confused

“I thought I did it all right, what went wrong...?” he thinks to himself.

On the outside, however, he’s smiling

Will hand over some praise to his little apprentice, but if you look carefully you will see a spark of annoyance

We get it Solomon, you’re a sore loser.

In the end, he will still leave somewhat impressed at your skillz

Simeon

w h a t

Is a little scared

“Is this one of them video games you kids play nowadays...? Just kidding. What are you playing-- oh my”

Might try to figure out how to play

But alas, 

Simeon is yet another boomer

So he will have quite some trouble even figuring out how to move

And why does he hold the controller like that what

If you’ve seen that one picture of him holding his phone sideways you know what I mean

On another note, if you look through his poem book, then you may or may not find a few poems describing how amazing and badass you looked hustling the entire game

Luke

about to bomb this master hill

No literally is considering bombing the computer or whatever you’re playing on because wHAT IS THAT

He is just

So 

So 

Scared

This will give him nightmares for weeks

Apparently Alcina reminds him of Lucifer so he kinda

Hates her

Says he will protect you

--as he runs out of the room in fear

Irrelevant but the one he hates the most is fetus baby

Michael have mercy on this poor boy--

[minkoobi]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐣𝐤

⤳ pairing: gryffindor!jungkook x slytherin!reader ⤳ genre: rivals to lovers, fluff, slight angst ⤳ word count: 11.5k ⤳ summary: jeon jungkoook, quidditch rival and former best friend, attempts to rekindle your lost friendship- and maybe something more

The gates slowly rise up and you are met with the sun nearly blinding you. With one quick glance to your teammates, you hop on your broomstick and fly up and above the quidditch pitch. Students from different houses were cheering, waving flags and chanting with all their might.

“Slytherin! Slytherin!”

You soar above them with pride and confidence. Quidditch has always been more than a sport to you. It was your calling- your passion. You were the best player in your team after all, earning you the title of being Slytherin’s team captain. You have led your team to many wins, but also shared your losses, specifically against this one team.

As if on cue, the opposing team makes their entrance, flying around the pitch with smiles on their faces, one which caught your attention almost immediately. 

That toothy grin with his nose scrunched up and eyes turned into crescents- they could only be that of Jeon Jungkook’s, Gryffindor’s team captain and best player. Simply put, he was your rival. You both had the position of being a chaser and are both known for being extremely competitive. 

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

You can see his smile grow bigger and you almost scowl at how easily his ego was boosted. But if you were being honest, you didn’t hate the guy, just disappointed at how your relationship turned out to be.

First Year 

“Up.”

And just like that, your broomstick met your palm in an instant. Pride fills you at how easily you’ve done the task at hand. You were really looking forward to Flying Classes since it’s a step closer to learning quidditch. 

To your left, the boy kept summoning his broomstick, having it float for a millisecond before it drops to the ground again. His fringe hung over his eyes but you could still make up his furrowed eyebrows. He groans in dismay and you can’t help but giggle.

“You have to put more force into it.”

The boy looks at you, eyes wide and a little flustered by the fact that you were watching him. You give him a small smile and a nod as if telling him to give it a try. He gulps before focusing on the broomstick and with one stern ’up’, he had it in his hand. 

“Thanks!” the nameless boy smiles sheepishly. 

“It’s nothing. I’m Y/N by the way,” You reach your hand out to him and he gives it a good shake.

“Jungkook.”

“Don’t zone out now Y/N, you wouldn’t want to lose to me again would you?” Jungkook smirks as he flies over to his side of the pitch. You notice Madam Hooch walking towards the wooden chest at the center of the field. The game’s about to start. You position yourself right across from Jungkook and mirror his smug look. “Wouldn’t dream about it.”

Madam Hooch blows on her whistle and throws the quaffle up into the air. Almost effortlessly, you catch it before darting towards the opposing goal. You see red come up from both your sides and as they near you, you throw the quaffle up into the air before your fellow teammate catches it and shoots it into the ring. A bell is heard and the commentator yells “ Slytherin scores first with 10 points!”

“Beaters, get the bludgers! Leave her to me,” Jungkook yells at his teammates before flying right behind your broomstick’s tail. It takes him no longer than a second until he is beside you and a little too close for your liking. You knew he was taunting you.

“You’re being too predictable nowadays,” his arrogance annoys you and you spare him a quick glance. 

“I know how this will work out. You’ll have your little snakes catch the ball and have them hand it to you so you can make your goal.” From the corner of your eye, you see your teammate wave a hand at you. Without saying a word, you dart towards their direction and as he throws the ball towards you, Jungkook cuts in between and grabs the quaffle with one hand. He turns his head to face you. “Like I said, predictable.” He speeds towards your goal post and effortlessly shoots it through the ring.

“Yes! 10 points to Gryffindor!” The crowd goes wild as the scores are now tied. Your anger builds up and your determination to win adds up to your adrenaline. “Keeper, don’t let them score,” you say calmly as you fly up higher to the sky. From there you could see everything clearly. You observe your opposing team and are quick to catch on to their tactic. Turns out Jungkook was just as predictable as you. 

You make your way to your teammates, sending them a look before spreading out. The Gryffindor team looked confused, watching you all fly aimlessly around them. As the distraction goes on, you and your closest teammate, Seulgi, fly up to Jungkook and trap him between your broomsticks. He is unable to nudge away from you two and causes him to lose his grip on the quaffle. You take this opportunity to snatch it off his hands and shoot it to their ring. Another bell is heard and Slytherin is leading again. “And I thought I was too predictable,” you mock Jungkook’s tone before flying away.

The game progresses intensely and everyone is on the edge of their seat, clearly intrigued by the feud between you and Jungkook. Points were scored here and there and it wasn’t until the commentator  announced Slytherin’s win when you noticed your seeker holding the golden snitch. The students from your house were up on their seats, yelling in victory. We did it. I won against Jeon Jungkook. The thought alone made you so happy, you didn’t notice the latter flew closer to you. 

“Good game, Y/N,” Jungkook says without any trace of sarcasm and you send him a small smile before going back to celebrating your team’s win. 

Second Year

You practically slam the common room door behind you and rush to Jungkook’s side. “I am so so sorry for taking so long, I just misplaced my book somewhere and-“

“Yeah yeah, apologize later. We’re late for Potions Class!” The two of you make a run for it down the hallway, pushing past other students and earning weird looks from them. Professor Granger will not let this slide and will probably give you both extra work. You could already picture the cold, mean scowl on her face.

“I can’t believe you made me wait for you outside your dormitory. Do you know how many times I’ve been glared at by your fellow snakes? I could’ve sworn one of them was trying to hex me,” Jungkook pants as you both continue to sprint down the corridor. 

“Shut it Jeon, this is just payback for when you made me late for Herbology.”

“That was a lame class anyway, you would’ve stayed in the courtyard with me if I didn’t remind you of the time.” 

The two of you finally reach your classroom and as you step inside, you were fairly surprised to see that Professor Granger hasn’t arrived yet. “Wow, and I thought we were in trouble,” says Jungkook, clearly relieved. Just then, the door slams behind you. Both of you make a slow dramatic turn to see narrowed eyes looking down at you two. 

“You’re late.”

Looking back, you can’t really pin-point where things started to go downhill between you two. You were practically inseparable, never found without the other. 

During your first two years in Hogwarts, he was your companion as you were his. You both experienced getting lost in the hallways, going up the wrong flight of stairs (they always switch when you least expect them to), and getting spooked by the house ghosts who randomly pop out of walls. Jungkook was also your partner when it came to learning quidditch, since you two shared the same love for the sport.

But as third year came along, things slowly began to change. Jungkook started to gain the attention of many students and even professors. He became known for his exceptional skills in quidditch and everyone was certain that professional teams were already lined up to scout him. You on the other hand, didn’t receive any less recognition. Students, especially younger girls, looked up to you. Many have assumed that you already have a spot reserved in the Holyhead Harpies team, but you chose to stay away from that spotlight and simply focus on perfecting your skills. 

But you can tell Jungkook is doing the exact opposite. You can see it in the way he enjoys having to carry a box of sweets and a dozen letters covered in pink and red hearts back to his dormitory almost everyday after class. It’s obvious in the way his cheeks flush pink when he walks in a room and girls start to gush over him. 

Your differences with one another become more apparent, causing both of you to spend less time together, which eventually comes to a halt all together. Keeping in touch with each other was no longer a priority and neither of you tried to change that.

Maybe you both simply grew up, or rather, grew apart.

It’s a sad yet inevitable ending, you’ll admit that. But as you continue to stare at the boy surrounded by his rowdy group of friends in the Great Hall who sat not too far from you, you can’t help but feel a sense of longing.

“Y/N, did you even hear a word I said?”

“Huh? Sorry I didn't catch that,” you switch your attention back to your friends, hoping they didn’t notice you just now.

“It’s that Jungkook guy isn’t it.”

“No it’s not.”

“Oh the hell it is! You were practically gawking at him,” your friend imitates your expression, erupting a fit of laughter around you.

“Whatever Wendy, it’s not like you don’t do the same when it comes to Mark.”

“Hey at least I admit it.”

“What happened to you two anyway? You guys were like, best buds two years ago,” Seulgi remembers meeting up with you two in the library and finding it odd for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to be so close. Now you’re in your fifth year and your conversations with Jungkook only ever happen when you’re both in the pitch. You weren’t even sure if you could consider them as conversations since all you ever say to each other are insults and sarcastic blows. 

“I don’t know, his head grew the size of a hippogriff and suddenly he’s too cool to be my friend,” you shrug as you take a bite off your bagel. Jungkook still holds a special place in your life but you’re never going to admit that. Despite everything that happened between you two, he’ll always be that kid who had a hard time summoning his broomstick. 

“What a tragic love story,” Wendy feigns pain, placing a hand over her chest before giggling. “But back to the main topic at hand, you and I still need to find a date.” That’s right, the Celestial Ball was just around the corner and you couldn’t care less about who to go with.

“Can’t I just fly solo? It’s not like anyone wants to take me anyway.”

“Might wanna rethink that statement Y/N,” Seulgi grins as she nods towards Jungkook’s direction. You turn back to see him staring right at you. He doesn’t even break his gaze, as if he was studying every little detail on your face. The intimacy of the situation was too much for you, so you look away. 

On any given day, you would love to hang out in the courtyard. The gentle breeze and overall ambiance of the place was just the perfect setting for you to relax and even read a book in. But with the Celestial Ball only two weeks away, it wasn’t that much of a surprise to see the place filled with students and couples asking each other to be their dates. And no, you weren’t some bitter bystander who despised the thought of young love, but there’s a fine line between appropriate display of affection and snogging behind a tree. 

You’ve just about had it and was about to give up on having some peaceful alone time when a shadow towers over you. You look up to see a boy with black and gold draping over his shoulders and a grin you could’ve easily mistaken for the sun.

“Hey! How’s my favorite chaser doing?”

Kim Seokmin, 6th year Hufflepuff and head boy. You knew each other from past quidditch games and were fairly acquainted with one another. He was his team’s keeper and with his tall, lean frame, you remember it being almost impossible getting a ball through their ring. Unfortunately, he got severely injured on his left leg from a game during a thunderstorm last year and has stopped playing since then. It’s a shame because he was one of the best players in all of Hogwarts.

“Not any better now that you’re here,” you jokingly respond. Seokmin simply chuckles at this and takes up the space next to yours on the bench.

“Aww c’mon, just because you won against Gryffindor you’re suddenly too good for me? I am hurt Y/N,” Seokmin clutches his chest in exaggerated pain, erupting a giggle from you as you grab the end of his scarf and swat it across his face. 

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I got you to laugh though,” he wraps an arm around your shoulders and your eyes slightly widen at the unexpected contact. It’s very clear to you now how this guy was placed in Hufflepuff with his tangible enthusiasm radiating off of him. Looking at him now, you couldn’t help but notice how the yellow of his robes match his skin tone and the crinkle of his eyes when he smiles were the perfect embodiment of his House.

“Listen, I actually came up to you cause I have something important to ask,” he spoke in a lower, more serious tone this time.

“What is it?”

“Well.. with the ball coming up and from what I know, you currently don't have a date, i was just wondering if maybe.. you would want to go with me?” Seokmin glances over to your bewildered face, waiting for a response. You were definitely not expecting to be asked out, let alone by a 6th year student you’ve rarely talked to. As you internally debate on an answer, a voice startles you from behind.

“Y/N! I have been looking for you everywhere!” Jungkook sneaks up to you two from behind a pillar, effectively getting Seokmin to remove his arm from you out of shock. The doe eyed boy continues to nudge himself between you two, taking a seat on the already crowded bench.

“I should probably go, but let me know as soon as possible alright? See ya around,” Seokmin sends you a quick wink before jogging back to his group of friends.

“What’s up with you and Donkey Kong?” Jungkook lays across the bench and rests his head on your lap, placing his forearm over his eyes.

“First of all, it’s Seokmin, and second, what makes you think you can use me as your personal pillow?”

“Do you like him?” he asks, completely ignoring your retaliation.

“That’s none of your business Jungkook.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“Why does it even matter to you?”

“He’s older than you.”

“He’s literally just a year above us and only a few months older than you.”

“Jeez now you’re defending him? Someone’s whipped,” Jungkook lowers his arm to send you a disgusted look, making you shove him off your lap. You’re satisfied to hear a muted thud as he lands on the ground.

“Whoever I like and dislike is not important, so drop it m’kay?” You’ve always hated confrontations since you were never really good at coming to terms with your own feelings. Yes, Seokmin may be a sweet guy, but having Jungkook press an answer out of you was very irritating. You get up to leave immediately when Jungkook grabs your wrist.

“Wait, what’s your next class?”

“I’m done for the day, I’m headed back to my dorm.” 

“I’ll walk you back.” Jungkook doesn’t even wait for you to decline his offer as he practically drags you down the corridor. Only when you stop resisting is when Jungkook drops his grip on you. 

The walk to your dorm was suffocatingly silent. It wasn’t because you were awkward around him, not at all. You’ve strolled around the castle together in silence multiple times yet this moment felt very new to you. Walking next to him, you notice how much taller he’s grown and how his shoulders have broadened, jawline more prominent and wavy hair just perfectly resting over his eyebrows. It felt like being next to a whole different person. But as he glances at you with those all too familiar eyes of his, you were certain that nothing has changed. That kid you once called your best friend was still in him.

“Dude, I know you hate me but you gotta stop shooting invisible lasers to my head.” There’s a small hop to his steps and you realize just how much you actually miss him.

“I don’t hate you.” You say this mostly to yourself but Jungkook hears it. He holds back the smile that creeps up to his lips, clearing his throat to break the tension between you two.

As much as you enjoyed having him around, your mind starts to go on overdrive. It has literally been years since the two of you hung out like this, so what’s with the sudden change? Losing touch with him was one of the worst things to have ever happened to you and you’re not sure if you ever want to experience that again. All those times of wondering what went wrong and blaming yourself for not being good enough of a friend came flashing back, causing you to stop on your tracks. It takes Jungkook a second to notice that you’ve trailed behind him before he turns to you. “You alright Y/N?”

“Why are you doing this?” Your eyes stay glued to the ground as you fidget on the sleeves of your robes, a habit of yours whenever you were nervous and Jungkook was quick to notice this.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t walked me back to my dorm in 2 years. Why are you doing this?” Jungkook remains silent. The truth is he knew exactly why, but he didn't know what took him so long to do so. Disappointed in his lack of his response, you trudge past him.

“Forget it, I can walk back from here. You can go.” You don’t even spare him a glance as you make your way down the stairs to the dungeon. Jungkook remains frozen in his spot as he watches your figure disappear before him, smacking the side of his head in annoyance. He may be confident and self-assured when it comes to quidditch, but dealing with you was a whole other ball game. He glances to his wristwatch before sprinting down the hallway to his Transfiguration class, which he purposely skipped on to accompany you to your dorm.

You couldn’t sleep that night. It was 2am and you have been tossing and turning in your bed for an hour now, causing a few groans and complaints from your roommates. You knew there was no point in trying to get some sleep so you quickly grab your sweater and broomstick before quietly sneaking out of the common room. After years of learning Mr. Filch’s schedule, you knew he was probably wandering around the Ravenclaw Tower by now. 

Sneaking off to the quidditch pitch was something you frequently did whenever you felt troubled and needed a place to clear your mind. Something about being in that enclosed field just puts your mind at ease, whether it be flying around it or sitting on the bleachers. You make your way to the center of the pitch and look up at the towering rings that used to intimidate you. With the stars out in the midnight sky, it takes you back to the first time you and Jungkook snuck out here past curfew hours as curious first year students.

“Woah, they’re so much taller than i thought!” You practically gawk at the sky high goal posts. “Can you imagine flying any higher than that?”

“Please, one day I’m gonna fly soooo far up the sky, I bet you I can grab a star,” Jungkook muses, crossing his arms over his chest in fake arrogance.

“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s impossible,” you shake your head at the absurdity of his words.

“You underestimate my skills Y/N! Mark my words, one day I’m gonna grab all the stars in the sky and give them to you.” The confidence in his voice was so endearing, you unconsciously held onto the promise.

“Learn how to fly better than me first,” you playfully shove him before running across the field, having him chase after you. 

Mr. Filch catches you two that night, landing both of you a whole week of detention. You smile at the bittersweet memory as you position yourself on your broomstick. How naive were you back then to assume he’d remain in your life forever. People eventually grow apart, you know this now as you soar above the quidditch pitch and fail to reach for a star.

It’s been a week since you last spoke to Jungkook and you rarely get to see him nowadays. The only times you did were during lunch and dinner in the great hall or in some of your shared classes. He was avoiding you, you knew that much, but you couldn't understand why it left a hole in your chest. This wasn’t anything new to you. Both of you rarely exchanged words with one another ever since you drifted apart, but to see him purposely avoid you bothered you more than you would like to admit.

“Y/N,” Seulgi snaps her fingers across your face to get your attention. You have been zoning out again.

“Hm?”

“Your potion,” You glance down to your cauldron to see its liquids overflowing and spilling on your work desk. You quickly grab the washcloth to clean up your mess, a bit irritated at how you screwed up.

“What’s gotten into you lately? It’s not like you to space out like that,” you can hear the worry in Seulgi’s voice but quickly dismiss her with a wave of your hand.

“It’s nothing, just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I know, I hear you sneak out from time to time,” Seulgi helps you out with your potion, scanning through her textbook to read the ingredients. “You know you can talk to me if anything’s bothering you, right?” Your friends know you well enough to know that you cringe at sentiments, so you can’t help but chuckle at how passive Seulgi was trying to be at comforting you, not even sparing you a glance as she adds ingredients into your cauldron.

“I know.” You’re grateful for your friends. As much as you hated relying on other people for your problems, which was called out to be such a Slytherin trait of yours, it was nice knowing someone had your back. Besides, you weren’t going to let some boy bring your mood down like this. You were better than that. You swore from that day on that you were over the whole Jungkook situation. You were sure of it.

At least you thought you were.

Which was why you were surprised to see him two days later, waiting for you outside your common room.

“Jungkook?” He looks up at the sound of your voice and smiles as he walks up to you and Seulgi. “What are you doing here?”

“Our timetables match today so I thought we could go to class together,” he quickly glances over to Seulgi, slightly dipping his head. “May I borrow your friend for the day?”

“We actually made plans-”

“Right! I, uh, actually have to meet up with Wendy for this thing, we have, going on,” Seulgi sends you a knowing look. “You guys go ahead! I’ll see you at lunch?” she spares you no second to reply, side hugging you before speed walking down the hallway. 

“I still find it weird how your dorm is literally next to the dungeons,” Jungkook leans down to whisper to your ear, causing you to jump back a bit. “Like c’mon, Salazar could’ve chosen a homier spot,”

“Why are you doing this?” This time, you were hoping for an actual answer. Cause honestly, you were mad, pissed even at how Jungkook thinks he could just approach you like this- like he hasn’t been avoiding you these past few days. But even as you glare at him, a small part of you is happy to see him. He keeps his calm composure and takes a step closer to you, careful not to break eye contact.

“I wanna do things right this time.” 

You ponder at this for a second. “What does that even-”

“But that means you can’t ask questions,” he flashes you that stupid grin of his, before snatching your books from your hands. “Now let’s go! We’re gonna miss our first class!”

You choose not to question him since you were already confused as it is, but you must admit that the small gesture of him carrying your things warmed your heart. Jungkook seemed to be a lot more chatty this time, going on and on about his group of friends and the many shenanigans they’ve been up to. You recognized Yoongi and Jimin since they were in the same house as you and even spoke to the latter one a couple of times since he was your team’s seeker. You pretend to be disinterested in his stories when really you’ve been noting down every single detail in your head, piecing together what makes Jungkook the boy he is today. He’s grown more confident over the years and you can see it in the way he walks with his head held high, in every diction of his words, and how he isn’t afraid to voice out his opinions. It was nothing like the shy little kid who used to tail behind you all the time and had a stutter when he spoke- it was a whole new better version of him. 

Jungkooks sits next to you in all your shared classes, pestering you in every way he can but still being careful not to cross the line. Every side comment he whispers earns him a smack or pinch on the arm, but you can’t help but laugh every single time. He kept you company through the dull lectures, casting little charms under your desk for entertainment. You watch as he whispers an incantation to the bird origami he folded just a few minutes ago, seeing it slowly flutter its wings. He picks it up and softly blows it towards your face. Your eyes follow the flying piece of paper in amusement as it floats above your head. How have you not heard of this charm before? The paper bird lands on Jungkook’s outstretched hand and he has this smug look on his face you can’t exactly read.

“What?”

“You're smiling.” He gestures to your lips. “It suits you. You should do that more often.”

It takes you a second to realize that there’s a little ache on your cheeks from grinning, and another second to completely wipe out the expression from your face. “You say that as if I have a permanent bitch face on me.”

He laughs. “Not at all. Let me rephrase that then. You should smile more often around me.”

You roll your eyes to hide the fact that you know that wouldn’t be too hard to do.

This goes on for another week and it’s been nothing but fun. The two of you have gotten more comfortable with each other and unconsciously settled in a routine. Jungkook continues to meet you outside your dorm everyday, dropping you off to your classrooms whenever he can. He eventually got you to agree on having lunch with him at least two times a week, just enough times so that you both can still hang out with your own sets of friends.

Although this doesn’t stop Jungkook from introducing them to you. When he asked you to meet up with him in the Clock Tower Courtyard, he didn’t mention six other boys would be tagging along. Just as you were about to make a run for it, he catches you before you can and obnoxiously yells out your name. Yeah, definitely can’t hide now.

If it weren’t for the obvious excitement in his eyes, you wouldn’t be walking towards the fountain they were gathered in. He introduces them to you and most of them were pretty welcoming (you can’t say the same for Yoongi and Namjoon though). It flattered you how Jungkook wanted to include you in this part of his life. It was something else witnessing it first hand. Seven boys from different Houses? You’d expect a clash of different personalities that will result in endless arguments and disagreements, but instead, they mix together beautifully. 

You’re grateful Jungkoook has them. He grew up with the best kinds of people.

Then a thought crosses your mind. You could say he was living an almost perfect life right now. If your fall out with Jungkook led him to these people, to be the confident guy he is today, then maybe it was for the best.  Maybe you don’t regret it a single bit. 

Maybe you were holding him back this whole time.

Maybe he’s better off without you.

The thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue and effectively changes your whole mood for the rest of the day. Luckily, you didn’t have any plans with Jungkook after classes so you use this time wisely; to mope around. What better way to deal with your whirlwind of mentions than by wallowing in self-pity? 

Wendy seems to think otherwise.

“Y/N, you better start making some bloody sense.”

“Enough of this please.”

“Not until you explain to me why you’re acting this way!” A distant shush is heard and Wendy is suddenly reminded that you’re both in the library. She speaks in a quieter tone this time but you can still hear the annoyance through her gritted teeth. 

“I just don’t get it. I specifically don't get you.”

“Well I didn’t ask you to meet me here to be understood. I just needed a friend to talk to, but clearly you don’t get that.” You continue to scribble down notes onto your parchment paper and try to block out any more of Wendy’s interrogation. You can tell she’s hurt from what you said but this definitely wasn’t the response you were expecting when you decided on opening up to her. You came to the conclusion that ending whatever it is you have with Jungkook will be beneficial to both of you and you expected Wendy to be on board with this. But apparently she is strongly against it.

“Y/N listen to me,” she snatches the quill from your hand and you knew better than to argue with her. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what’s going on in that stubborn head of yours but you better learn how to come to terms with your feelings immediately or you’re gonna end up hurting someone,” she tosses the quill back to you before standing up to leave, but you don’t miss the last words she murmurs.

“Maybe even yourself.”

You hate it when she reads you like a book and especially hate it when you know she’s right. It doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re growing more attached to Jungkook by the second. Things are slowly going back to the way they were, but for what? A setup for more disappointment? You’ve convinced yourself that Jungkook doesn’t really need you in his life, so why is he trying to get you back in it? You’re afraid you know the answer to that already.

“Want some?” Jungkook’s mouth is stuffed with sweets as he hands you a box of chocolates. You eye it suspiciously. It was neatly decorated with pink sparkly wrappings and a red ribbon around it.

“Not when it looks like it’s tampered with some sort of love potion.” You lean away from it and Jungkook chuckles.

“Nah, I had Namjoon check it for me. We’re on the clear,” he continues to pop more of them between his lips. There’s a paper stuck to the box’s lid and you could easily make up the cursive writings on it.

‘Dear Jungkook

My heart only beats for you. Go to the Ball with me?

                                xoxo                                Arabella’

The thought of him receiving love letters and gifts bothered you a lot more than you hoped, which is rather stupid cause you can clearly see why. Jungkook is a very dateable guy after all. Did I just say that?

“Arabella huh? The cute redhead from Gryffindor?”

“I mean I guess she’s cute,” Jungkook continues to talk with a mouthful of chocolates. “A lil’ too quirky for my taste though. And she always stares at me in the common room! It’s very unsettling,” he shudders at the memory but is quick to notice the slight scowl on your face.

“Why? You jealous?” there’s a hint of tease to the way he says it and you scoff.

“Absolutely not.” 

He laughs as you both continue to walk to the Great Hall. You weren’t supposed to have lunch together until next week but you found it easy to persuade Jungkook into making this exception. It pains you a bit to see how happy this made him when you were already composing the few sentences that will ultimately break this friendship in your head. This only lasts a second until you convince yourself that this will be much harder for you than it ever will be for him.

“So the Celestial Ball is in two days.”

“Yep, it sure is.”

“You have a date yet?”

“Nope.” You sigh in disinterest. You never thought much into having a date. As long as there’s good food, good music, and the company of your friends, you’re sold. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have someone in mind.

“Really? So you said no to Seokmin?” He seemed genuinely surprised and somewhat..  relieved?

“Not really. I just haven’t gotten the chance to talk to him.”

“So.. you’d say yes?”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake just worry about your own date!” You roll your eyes. “But I’m guessing you’d be going with Arabella?”

Jungkook frowns. “Do you think I should?” The question dangled carefully from his lips with hesitance. You can’t point it out exactly but it's like he was expecting a specific answer from you. 

“Why should my opinion matter? It’s not like I’m your best friend or anything.” This comes out harsher than you intended and halts Jungkook in his tracks.

“Where the hell did that from?” He says this like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. But wasn’t it simply the truth? You try not to let his clear frustration get to you.

“Look, you can stop this whole ‘making amends with your old friend’ thing you’ve been doing. I don’t need a friend out of pity. That was two years ago and I no longer hold a grudge against you. Shit happens. We’ve changed since then. You’ve changed.”

He scoffs. “And that’s all on me, huh?” he takes a step closer until he’s only inches away from your face. “Everything that has ever gone wrong with us is all because of me. Is that what you’re trying to say?” Jungkook has never raised his voice at you until now. For once you were actually scared of him.

“I never said..”

“You changed too Y/N! Yet I never held that against you,” he was practically seething at this point. “I never once blamed your personal choices for getting in between our friendship, cause they were all for you! Even after you started spending less time with me out of nowhere, I just thought of it as you being your independent self. You think I wanted this to happen to us?”

You’re at loss for words. Up until now, neither of you have ever spoken about this. It was sort of a silent agreement to pretend that there wasn’t this looming tension between you two. You should’ve known one of you was bound to slip at some point. No one dares to speak up, both waiting for the other to say something, anything to end this.

“Is that really what you think this is?” His hand gestures between you two. “Is this really just some sort of compensation to you? That I’m doing this out of pity?" Your lack of denial forces him to believe so.

Every muscle in him was aching for you to reassure him that this past week meant just as much to you as it did to him. That he wasn’t clouded by the fake judgment that things were going extremely well. There’s a pleading look in his eyes when a voice interrupts you two.

“Y/N!” Seokmin runs up to you, completely oblivious. “Have you gotten my owl? I've been trying to reach you this whole week but never heard back from you! I was starting to worry.” It amazed you how dense someone could be. Jungkook doesn’t even spare him a glance as he continues to stare you down.

“Guess you never really knew me after all,” and with a twist of his heel, he walks away, discarding the box of chocolates to the nearest bin. What a waste of food.

You knew you should’ve chased after him. Jungkook may be a brat at times but he would never act on things irrationally. If you were to explain everything to him, this just might have ended on a better note.

But neither of that happens as you let him slip away from your life for the second time.

“I’m sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?” You can see the slight guilt in Seokmin’s eyes so you force yourself to smile at him.

“It’s nothing. Oh gosh I haven’t visited the owlery recently, your letters are probably still there! I’m really sorry,” and you genuinely were. But you just found it hard to care at the moment with Jungkook’s words still echoing at the back of your head.

Seokmin chuckles. “Hey, don’t worry about it. No harm done.” He looks at you pointedly. “But you still owe me an answer Y/N.” 

You don’t doubt for a second that you would enjoy yourself if you were to go with him to the ball. Seokmin was known for being the light of the party with his funny antics and humor, anyone would be lucky to have him as a date.

You stare at yourself through the mirror, eyeing the emerald green cloth flow just above your ankles. You thought you looked pretty decent. To finish the look, you decide to tie your hair up into a ponytail to keep any loose strands from falling to your face. 

Seulgi walks in the room dressed in a red mermaid dress that compliments her figure. She has her hair styled down and makeup done naturally. The ball isn’t for another two hours and she already looks ready to go. Her eyes immediately land on you, specifically on what you’re wearing.

“Um, you do know there’s a formal dress code, right?” She laughs nervously, hoping what she’s seeing is a practical joke. “Y/N please tell me you just got back from practice or something.” She scans the quidditch gear that covers you from top to bottom. This definitely wasn’t the dress you bought together in Diagon Alley before the year started.

“I’m not going Seulgi, I already told you this.”

“Nooo! You can’t ditch me and Wendy like this!”

“Don’t you guys have dates?” You quirk an eyebrow at her. “If anyone’s getting ditched, it'll be me if I attend the ball.”

“It’s not my fault you rejected Seokmin,” She sits on the edge of your bed. “And I promise I’ll ditch Teddy for you if you ever get bored, so can you pretty pretty pleeeease go with us?” She sprawls herself across your bedding and flashes you the saddest puppy dog eyes she could muster. You laugh and throw a pillow to her face.

 “Nice try, but still no.”

“God you’re impossible.” Seulgi pushes herself up and walks to your closet. You glance back to the mirror as you tighten the straps of your quidditch gloves. A quick drill around the pitch will probably be enough to get your mind off everything.

After rummaging through your pile of clothes, Seulgi finds the piece of garment she was looking for. She pulls out a black sheath dress and holds it up close to your face. 

“When I come back, you better be out of that uniform and in this beautiful dress I oh-so-carefully picked out for you, okay?” She shoves the clothing to your hands, flashing you a grin before darting towards the door. “Five minutes, Y/N! Then I’ll do your hair and makeup.”

You open your mouth to protest when Seulgi slams the dorm behind her. God she could be so pushy sometimes. The dress feels soft against your fingers as you lay it out across your bed to get a good look at it. Its sleeves are off shouldered with a modest slit on the skirt that ends just by the knee. Aside from the little lace patterns around the waistline, the dress is completely plain. It’s the perfect evening gown for you. Seulgi has a good eye for clothes, you must admit that. 

It probably wouldn’t hurt to just try it on...

Two hours later,  you’re standing near the entrance to the great hall with an overexcited Seulgi clinging onto your arm. Students dressed in suits and gowns slowly start to pack the venue, meeting up with their friends and partners and you unknowingly become more anxious at the thought of bumping into Jungkook.

“Over here!” Seulgi waves a hand to the sea of people and a guy maneuvers around them to get to you. 

“Hello,” The boy you recognized as Teddy Lupin smiles, leaning in to hug Seulgi. “I’m glad you can make it!” he adds to you.

“My friend here can be very persuasive.”

Seulgi grins. “Damn right I am. So, shall we?”

The walls of the Great Hall had all been covered in velvety midnight blue textiles with silver sparkles that resemble those of stars, decorating them from top to bottom. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. Over your heads, thousands of candles were floating mid air and the enchanted ceiling no longer resembled the sky outside. Instead, it was filled with constellations and planets you learned about in Astronomy class. The three of you stare up at them in astonishment when Wendy sneaks up from behind you.

“Pretty cool huh?” she nods her head towards the ceiling. “I persuaded Professor McGonagall into letting the decorating committee change the view for the night. This place just didn’t scream ‘celestial’ to me before that.”

You’re still gazing at the ceiling when you reply. “Woah Wendy, you guys did a really good job with this place.”

“I know, I know, no need to flatter me,” she jokes. “Come on you guys, I still haven’t introduced to you my date!”

Of course Wendy was able to land herself a date and it wasn’t a surprise to you that it was with Mark, the guy she has been crushing on for months now.  Their attires even matched in sapphire blue color and you were pleased to see how much they got along. 

You didn't want to admit it, but you ended up having a blast that night. Your friends kept you company the whole time, being sure to include you in their conversations with their dates, who you found to be very friendly. You silently thank Seulgi in your head cause if it weren’t for her, you would be missing out on all this fun.

Across the room, you see Seokmin occupying a table with his friends. He took things well when you rejected his date proposal and made sure there weren’t any hard feelings between you two after that. His eyes meet yours and he sends you a smile, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. Turns out he ended up going dateless as well. He mouths the words ‘this could’ve been you’, making you laugh.

You’re glad things are okay between you two, but you wished you could say the same for Jungkook.

Come to think of it, you haven't seen that boy at all tonight. 

Where is he anyway?

“Let’s dance!!” You watch your friends pull their partners with them to the end of the hall where a band was performing on stage. Dinner has ended and everyone is now up on their feet and headed to the dance floor. Seulgi gestures for you to join them but you instead wave a hand for them to go ahead.

“I’ll join you guys later! Just gonna go get some fresh air,” you practically yell over the thumping music before walking towards the entrance hall.

You stop just past the ceiling high doors when the music fades into faint beats. As you step away from the crowd of people, you let out a breath you’ve unknowingly been holding in. A cold breeze brushes against your skin, causing you to shiver. If you knew it was going to be chilly you would’ve brought a cloak with you or something.

“Need a jacket?” You’re surprised to see Jungkook’s friend standing next to you, offering you his blazer in his outstretched hand.

You shake your head. “I’m alright, thank you.” 

“Y/N right?” He slings his blazer over his shoulders. “I’m sorry I’m really bad with names.”

“That’s me. And you’re Taehyung?”

He nods and shoots you a boxy grin. You both say nothing else after that and stand together in silence for a few minutes, turning to look back at the party every once in a while.

“He was looking for you, you know.”

“Jungkook’s here?” 

“Well, was. He left right after dinner.” Taehyung turns to face you when u remain silent.

“He talks about you a lot you know, even way back when I first got acquainted with him.”

“Nothing too bad I hope,” you muster a small laugh to hide how nervous you are.

He shakes his head. “No no, he always gushes about how close you guys were and how you’re the reason he even plays quidditch in the first place.”

You finally face him, eyes wide in shock. “He said that?” Taehyung simply nods.

“Yeah, you clearly meant a great deal to him if any of the stuff he told me was something to go by,” Taehyung turns to face the open doors of the Great Hall and his eyes immediately land on someone.

“You know, out of all the guys I'm probably the one who relates with him the most.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

He shrugs. “Let’s just say I know what it’s like to pine for someone so clueless.”

You cock a questioning brow at him. When he doesn’t acknowledge your reaction, you follow his gaze which lands on a girl with her back facing you two. 

“What are you trying to say?”

“Jungkook’s a good guy, and unlike me, he’s not afraid to act on his feelings,” Taehyung smiles at you, bringing a hand up to ruffle your hair. “You guys should talk things out.”

The brotherly gesture warms your heart and you knew he was right. You owe it to Jungkook to explain everything that’s been on your mind- to finally come to terms with your own feelings.

“I don’t even know where he is,” you look down in dismay.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” and with one quick nudge of his elbow, he walks back to the party, glancing back at you after a few steps. “He’s a pretty predictable guy.”

Catching onto his subtle hint, you quickly thank him before sprinting down the corridor. 

Being in the stands had a different kind of excitement to it. From where Jungkook was seated, he could see the landscape of the field that somehow seemed larger than usual compared to when he’s up flying around it. He starts to play scenes from old matches in his head, including the very first game he had against you.

You. The thought he had been trying to suppress the whole day.

It certainly didn’t help seeing you in the ball, all dressed up and happy despite the argument you two had only a few days back. He also hated to admit how pleased he was to see you without a date, as if he stood any chance with you to begin with.

“Why does she have to be so stubborn,” he breathes out to himself, chuckling at the situation he’s found himself in.

But he knew he had his faults. He felt that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you that day. If he were being honest, he didn’t even know how things led to that. It’s as if something snapped in him, like everything he had pent up inside came rushing out. He was better than that. Not once has he ever let his emotions get the best of him like that.

It’s crazy how much you can affect him like this.

“I thought you’d be here.”

For a moment, Jungkook believes he’s hallucinating when he sees you standing a few rows down from where he sat. Only when you cautiously take a seat next to him is when he realizes that this is all very much real. Suddenly hyper aware of your presence, Jungkook sits upright and clears his throat.

“Boring party?”

“Oh not at all. I took advantage of the unlimited meals then dipped.”

Jungkook laughs and you’re convinced it's the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“I actually pocketed some of the flavored beans on our table,” he fishes them out from his dress robe and shows them to you. “Want one?”

You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him pulling out colorful beans from his dapper attire, as if it were the most normal thing to do. “Sure, but you know how bad my luck is when it comes to picking out the good flavors.”

“Hmm sucks to be you huh?” Jungkook smirks.

You both pick out a jelly bean from the bunch, clicking them together before popping them into your mouths. You’re pleased to taste cherries coat your tongue and clasp your hands together.

“I didn’t get a vomit flavoured one!”

You look over to Jungkook and see him grimace, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “That was definitely booger…”

You burst into a fit of laughter, throwing your body back and unknowingly lean on Jungkook’s shoulder. He frowns down at you but it contradicts the pink shade that began to taint his cheeks.

The two of you spend the rest of the night laughing and poking fun at each other, which later on settled into small conversations. The winter air makes itself known once more as it blows past you, making you shiver and the goosebumps on your arms rise. Jungkook notices this and quickly takes his coat off, draping them over your shoulders without acknowledging it. He knew you’d refuse the gesture if he did.

Suddenly you felt ashamed. Even after lashing out on him, Jungkook chose to be civil with you and act as if nothing happened. He could’ve easily gotten up and left as soon as he saw you yet here he is, still making you happy without fail. 

You’ve decided that you’re done avoiding confrontation. 

A moment of silence fills the air as your eyes meet. 

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

You both chorus at the same time. Jungkook chuckles, gesturing for you to continue. “Ladies first.”

Despite the cool weather, your palms clam up out of nerves as you focus on the unsteady beat of your heart. Wiping off the sweat against your skirt, you build up the courage to voice out the next words you’re about to say.

“Up until recently, I never realized how much I blamed you for our ‘falling-out’. I’ve convinced myself that the sole reason you and I were no longer friends was because you didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore- or that I wasn’t cool enough to be your friend. Cause, well, I am pretty boring if you ask me,”

There’s a subtle tremble to your voice as you go on and you skillfully mask this with unnecessary arm gestures as you speak. At this very moment, Jungkook has never been more endeared. Maybe he’s always been this smitten, but seeing you ramble on all nervous around him, he can’t seem to fight the smile that sneaks onto his lips.

“but that's where I went wrong. I let my insecurities get the best of me and affect our friendship, relationship, or whatever it is we have going on-”

“You think there’s something going on between us?” Jungkook cuts you off mid babble. There’s a hint of playfulness in his tone and it takes you a second to catch onto his insinuations. You smack his arm.

“I’m being serious!” Your brows knit together in mock annoyance and Jungkook laughs, reaching a hand out to rest it on top of yours. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, please continue.”

You glance at your joined hands on your lap, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your palm. Now that you think about it, Jungkook has always been more physical in his love language and that may be why you guys got along so well. You were never really great with words, much less receiving them, and so was Jungkook. It was always either tight hugs or a shoulder to cry on whenever he would comfort you. But with the way Jungkook’s ears turn red, you can’t help but think that maybe there was more to those innocent touches.

“I had a lot of self-doubts, especially after spending so much time with you these past couple of days. I guess you could say I was intimidated? You just seemed better off with this new life you had without me. I don’t know- I just didn’t see a reason for you to want me back in it.”

Jungkook doesn’t speak but he keeps his eyes trained on you. He has his lips pressed in a thin line, clearly processing everything you just poured out to him. Sometimes you wonder if he knew he had this affect on you, cause most times you don’t even realize it yourself. You never really understood why a part of you would get all flustered over the menial things he did, but you have a pretty good guess lingering at the back of your head.

“You think too much.” This is the only response he gives you before you snatch your hands away from his grasp. 

“E-excuse me??” You didn’t really know what to expect for a response, but this certainly wasn’t one of it. Jungkook clicks his tongue as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if the answer was blaring right in front of you.

“Y/N, I never wanted you out of my life in the first place,” he says as a matter of fact. “and I hate how I let it happen. I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but the attention people gave me was so new and to be honest, I enjoyed it,” Jungkook pauses, leaning back with palms resting on either side of him. “You knew how shy I was back then and I wasn’t really confident in myself. Funnily enough, I was also intimidated by you,” he chuckles mostly to himself. “I wanted to be more than this timid kid who stuck by your hip 24/7. I wanted my quidditch skills to be recognized, to show people what I’m made of, and even though I got that in the end, I let you down in the process.” 

He was intimidated by you? The Jeon Jungkook felt this way around you? It’s almost laughable how similar your thought process was this entire time. “Well shit, I guess we’re both stupid.”

Jungkook laughs and you watch as his eyes crinkle up. You always found that facial asset of his attractive. 

“It also didn’t help how I had this big crush on you. Yes, I was this prepubescent boy trying so hard to impress y-”

“You what?” If you were a cartoon, your eyes would be popping out of its sockets right now. He liked me?

Jungkook finally looks at you with an arched brow. “Wait, you never knew?”

You practically scoff. “I’m not a damn mind reader!” You debate on whether you should ask what’s on your mind before giving in. “But.. had? As in, it’s in the past?”

You regret your question almost immediately when this playful smirk graces Jungkook's lips. It looked as if he was waiting for this exact moment the whole night. He sits up and turns his body to face you so you’re forced to look back at him. Jungkook leans dangerously close that you could smell his cologne from where he sat. “What do you think?” he asks in a lower register.

At this point, you can’t help the annoyance that flashes across your face. Why does he keep beating around the bush? Did he like making you this flustered? It takes a lot out of you to shove him back by the chest with an irritated huff. Literally anyone could get lost in those beautiful eyes of his. “That’s why I asked, genius.”

Jungkook grins as he was sure you weren’t as mad as you made yourself to be. This was the front you always had with everyone but he could see right through you. He admires this tough exterior of yours, but must admit that he enjoys breaking them down even more.

“I have something for you,” Jungkook completely changes the course of the conversation but your curiosity gets the better of you when you see him reaching for something in his pant pockets. Before he pulls the mystery item out, he looks at you. “but you should have your eyes closed.”

Too tired to fight back, you do as he says. “You better not be pulling out your wand to hex me or something.” 

He giggles before it goes silent again. A few seconds pass and you think that he might have just up and left you alone in the bleachers. Before you could open your eyes to confirm this, you feel a cold, metallic sphere being placed on your right palm. You look down to see it’s a golden snitch.

“It’s not much but i’ve been wanting to give this to you for a while now. I found it in my room while I was cleaning some stuff out.”

“You stole this from the storage room?” 

“Of course not!” Jungkook says defensively. “...Professor McGonagall caught me going through Madam Hooch’s things and let me keep it when I confessed.”

“That’s it?” You try to coax the whole story out, knowing full well Professor is not that forgiving.

“...She also gave me 2 weeks worth of detention.” This gets you to laugh, though you couldn’t help but wonder what’s so important about this golden snitch that he had to go through all that just to retrieve it. As if he’s read your mind, or from the way you were intently studying the ball, he continues. “Do you remember our first match against each other? During our 2nd year?” 

You groan inwardly at this. “Yeah, your team won.” 

“Because?” Jungkook eggs you on.

You openly glare at him this time, venom lacing into your response. “Because I committed Snitchnip*.”

Jungkook grins triumphantly at your admission. “Still don’t get how you made such mistake.” It amuses him how competitive you could get over such little things, but it was one of your many charms he was drawn into. He reaches out to teasingly pinch your cheek. From this close proximity, he notices the light makeup applied on your face- eyelids covered in a light brown hue and lips a darker shade of red. Not that you needed any to begin with in his opinion, but you looked exceptionally beautiful tonight. Has he mentioned that to you? He thought now wasn’t the right time to bring it up though. “There there, it’s all in the past. And besides, you’ve improved a lot since then.”

“Yeah cause I forced you to practice with me every night after that incident,” you smile at the memory. It didn’t matter at the time that you and Jungkook were from opposing teams that were known to rarely get along. All you knew was that you enjoyed training with him more than anyone, including your own teammates. You convince yourself that it was because he was the most challenging player to go against, but truthfully you just genuinely enjoyed his company. “So, is this the ball that made me lose?”

Jungkook hums in agreement before grabbing the golden snitch from your hand. “You know how these things have flesh memory, right?” 

You nod. “That’s how they knew I caught it,  by accident,” you emphasize the last two words.

“And which hand did you say caught it?”

You wondered where this was going. “Well I didn’t, but my left one.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheeks as he loosens his grip on the golden snitch until his palm is laid out flat. The snitch’s wings appear and slowly fly up, hovering just by his eye level. He turns to face you and gestures towards the ball. “I don’t know if it’ll work but, try grabbing it with your left hand.”

Despite the many questions you have, you do as you are told. Jungkook seemed nervous about this that you couldn’t help but anticipate what’s to happen next. Once it’s within your grasp, you look at Jungkook expectantly. This makes him giggle, his hand shyly rubbing the back of his nape. “It’s no star, but I hope it gets the message across.”

You’re about to ask what he meant by that when it suddenly hits you.

“One day I’m gonna grab all the stars in the sky and give them to you.”

You bring the golden snitch up with your left hand and study it once more. With a single swipe of your thumb against its center, enchanted writings start to appear. 

“You shine brighter than anyone else,” you murmur the words to yourself.

“Too cheesy?” Jungkook quips nervously in an attempt to lessen the tension he’s built for himself. “I was actually worried the words won’t show up. You know, Seokjin taught me this enchantment just last week! They only appear when the snitch is in contact with it’s first touch. I didn’t think I could pull it off this well but oh thank Merlin it worked. I still feel like I could’ve gone with a better quote, but the guys said this was already good.”

His words have faded into white noise as you continue to stare at the writings engraved on the snitch. You can feel your heart swell up in happiness, excitement, literally every emotion in the book. He put so much thought into this gift and he dares say that it ‘isn’t much’? He could’ve given you a stone with a heart carved on it and you’d still think it was the sweetest thing ever.

You liked him. God, you liked him so much. How are you only realizing this now? Now that’s a lie, you knew you’ve had these feelings for him for a while now and you’ve been denying yourself of this for the longest time. It almost frustrates you how long it took for you to admit this to yourself. At this point, you knew you were openly staring at him with eyes filled with adoration, but he doesn’t seem to notice this as he is still rambling on.

“This also kinda answers the whole past or present question you had for me right? Ugh, I swear I could’ve dealt with this better if I wasn’t such a wuss back then. But hey, I’m here now pouring this all out to you and ready to get my heart stomped on and broken into a million pieces so please be gentle when you completely reject me-”

You shut him up the only way you seem fit at the moment. You press your lips against his and he visibly freezes. It seemed as if he forgot how to breathe, remaining completely still. Your confidence falters at this but just when you are about to pull away, Jungkook’s cups your cheek and kisses you back this time. His touch is feather light against your skin but it creates this huge wave of warmth inside of you- you were literally melting under his touch. His lips were warm and soft but would also slightly quiver as they glided against your own. You felt relieved to know that he was just as nervous as you are as it never crossed your mind that this was all new to him as well.

Jungkook on the other hand was on cloud nine. It was all too good to be true that even as he was kissing you, he found it hard to believe that any of this was really happening. He slowly pulls away from the kiss to look at you, the hand on your cheek moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Yep, this is real.

“Does this mean you like me back?” You both laugh at his question, foreheads resting against each other as you continue to look into each other's eyes.

“What do you think?” you imitate him, causing him to chuckle as he pulls you in for a hug. This better not be some wild jinx casted on him because he swears he’s never been this happy. Luck was definitely on his side today.

A roar of cheers echo the walls of the Great Hall. Students are crowded around the Gryffindor table, chanting the house name while waving their scarves and flags. As you push past them, you see the winning team celebrating with Jungkook, his teammates congratulating him with pats on the back and hair ruffles here and there. Amongst the commotion, he spots you as you smile at him and quickly excuses himself from the team. As he runs up to you, the students stand back to make way for him. Having everyone’s eyes on you two made you a bit uneasy, but this was eased off almost immediately when Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground as he spins you around. 

“Hey! Put me down, people are staring,” you say through giggles. Jungkook listens and carefully places you back on your feet but still keeps his arms around you. 

“Sorry, I was just happy to see my girl cheer for me.” The petname makes you blush and Jungkook flashes that boyish grin of his. He has gotten a lot more cheesier ever since you started exclusively dating, you weren’t sure if you could handle much more.

“You do know this means you’re up against Slytherin for finals next week, right?” you tilt your head to the side and feign cluelessness.

Jungkook is quick to match your taunt. “U-huh, and I don’t plan on losing this time.”

In losing battles, you have to admit to defeat and surrender, just like how you’ve completely given in to Jungkook and let him win you over. But that doesn’t me you’re always going to go easy on him.

“Neither do I,” you retort back with a smirk.

*Snitchnip -  a Quidditch foul that occurs when any player other than the Seeker catches or touches the Golden Snitch.

A/N: first story of the hogwarts series is finally up and its starring bestest boi koo! this took me longer than expected and the ending feels kind of rushed but i hope you guys like it! if this story ends up doing well, i might even post a mini jungkook pov :>

[twstoric]

my all (for you)

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅: uh hi, can i request leona x gn!reader x malleus, with both of them "fighting" over reader's attention as they have sex? maybe a bit of breeding kink as well? >///<

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: leona kingscholar x gn!reader x malleus draconia 

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: it’s a dangerous game you’re playingーnot only with competitive beasts but also ones driven to stake their claim over you

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): rough sex, possessive behaviour, intentions of breeding, biting/marking, powerful beings acting not so powerful ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.2k

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: i’m crying i’m supposed to be resting but my brain was like “wehh” and i survived on high sugar to get this done smoothly but-! please enjoy, loves!!

ﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌ

“Mh- lheー” you bite your tongue harshly, breath stuttering in your throat as you stare at your legs, unmoving as if you were paralyzed. You fucked up- or at least you almost did but it’s a futile wish to hope that your minor slip up wouldn’t go unnoticed. Trapped in between two beasts, every word that comes out of your mouth is carefully analyzed; figuring when you’ll scream the name they want to hear. 

Leona breathes a small chuckle, yanking your legs closer to the edge of the bed where he’s kneeling close to. “So quiet suddenly, herbivore? Come on, you can scream my name all you want,” he kisses the inside of your thighs, lips pressing fire against your skin as the brunet settles both your legs over his shoulders; not allowing you to hide anything.

“Hm? I believe the name that was uttered was mine.” Malleus tugs you closer to him, almost pulling you entirely away from the other dorm head if Leona hadn’t been gripping you so tightly. The dark fae settles behind you, holding you up and pressing his torso against your back. His lips trail invisible lines over the expense of your neck, fingers teasing the skin under your shirt as he rides the material up over your chest. “Don’t be shy now, dear. Say my name louder.”

Your face flushes, closing your eyes as if trying to block them out. There’s a building heat in your stomach, coaxed and played around with by the two dorm heads but the problem isn’t that the pleasure they give you can be overwhelming—it’s more as though the silent competition they’ve played when it comes to you is starting to drive you a little insane. 

Whenever Leona would bring you to completion with the slow drag of his tongue against your sensitive nerves is ripped away when Malleus pulls you far away from the Savanna prince and monopolizes your lips with a deep kiss; shoving his tongue down your throat and tasting every inch of your mouth.

Similarly, whenever Malleus pours ecstasy into your mind with the soft curls of his fingers against your good spots, mouthing kisses against the skin of your neck, Leona shoves him away, grabbing you by the wrist and trapping you under him away from the Prince of Thorns and makes it a point to bite deep markings into your neck; the clear indication of his claim on you. 

The cycle repeats for too long and too often that whenever you touch near the height of completion, you’re not surprised that it’ll be ripped away from you soon enough. Children, honestly. You’re dealing with children. 

“Please just- d- do something quick,” you huff, closing your thighs between Leona’s head and tugging at Malleus’ hair to coax him near your mouth. If you don’t come soon, you’ll definitely go insane—in a sense, anyway. But you will rip their heads out. Princes of a country or not, they’ll feel your wrath-

A small gasp leaves your throat, suddenly ripped away from your inner turmoil seems to amplify the shock of being fingered. Leona’s hand drags against your walls in an easy motion, the map of your insides printed inside of his head and he knows just how to push all your buttons. 

You don’t get to focus on the King of Beasts when Malleus' hand settles on your neck, sliding up to cup your jaw and turning your head around to crash his lips to yours. His other hand snakes around to your front, scratching at your skin with his nails lightly until he settles over the hard bud of your nipple. 

The Dark Prince holds your jaw with careful fingers, turning you around to watch Leona who’s already lapping at your greedy hole like a hungry man. He alternates between biting your inner thigh and fucking your insides with his tongue and fingers.

“I have a proposal for you,” Malleus whispers, voice deep with desire and echoing in your mind. He licks the skin behind your ear and you moan at the perfect stimulation to your ears and the curl of Leona’s fingers. “Shall we see who can bring you the most pleasure..?” There’s something mischievous glinting in the bright green of Melleus’ eyes. His smirk is wide and handsome, perfectly shaped lips curled in a way like an impish child. 

Your breath grows heavier, impossibly turned on by the proposal and it takes a small nod of your head before Malleus rips you away from Leona. The latter growls in warning, tearing the bed sheets when his fingers take hold of them. “What the fuck are you doing?” He spits out, following after you and narrowing his eyes dangerously. When Leona’s fingers curl around your ankle, he visibly relaxes—as if touching you momentarily satiates his anger. 

Malleus hugs you to him like a prized doll, chin placed on your shoulder and staring back at Leona head on. “Should you be able to bring pleasure to this beautiful body,” the ravenhead starts, spreading your legs apart and Leona’s eyes trail down at the way you’re presented to him. “Then I admit defeat. You are most suited for my beloved.” Malleus sighs in mock sadness; nuzzling close to you before his smirk returns. “But should I emerge victorious…” he smiles, not needing to finish. 

The bet is easily agreed to without acknowledgment. When the prize is you, then there’s no need for hesitation. 

You’re transferred to Leona’s arms easily, lips instantly captured in a bruising kiss. The brunet pushes you down (you didn’t notice Malleus had already moved away), finally getting rid of the shirt you’re wearing and laying you bare. “If we’re talking about the one who can pleasure you, then it’s definitely me,” Leona growls, flipping you around and pulling your hips flush against his.

Your hands latch onto the bed sheets in anticipation, not having to wait long as Leona eases in easily, the smooth drag of his cock filling you to the brim. You’re moaning loudly, hips held up by Leona’s hands as he savors the way you greedily clench around him. “That’s it,” he encourages, rolling his hips until he’s flush against you and drawing out a moan from the both of you. 

He murmurs something you can’t hear but everything blanks when the brunet pulls out slowly, veins dragging against your walls deliciously and snap back in with a force that makes you collapse. Leona doesn’t mind the way you’re unable to stay up, only clutching at your hips and dragging you back so each thrust meets with a loud smack. 

You’re cruising loudly, frantically searching for something to hold onto before dark-painted nails come into your view and Malleus is intertwining your fingers together. He pulls you upright, settling you over his lap and holding you like you’re a precious child. The way he holds is so contrasting to the bruising grip of your hips that it distracts your mind a little.

That is, before Leona hits that sensitive bundle of nerves and you’re gasping helplessly, falling into Malleus’ lap with each abuse of Leona’s cock against that spot inside. You faintly hear the small chuckle Leona let’s out, his grip adjusting on your hips and angling his thrust to make your brain melt.

Malleus holds your face gently, brushing the sides of your face and coaxing you closer to his cock. Your mouth suddenly feels so empty, drooling at the hard display of the ravenhead’s cock; already calling for your attention. 

Malleus doesn’t tell you to do anything, hands busy tracing the shape of your features and you can see the adoring stare he gives you without having to look. Almost shyly, your tongue traces the underside of his cock, soft moans leaving your mouth when you can feel Malleus shudder. It encourages you to go further, kissing his head lightly before welcoming him into your mouth.

Your body feels like it’s burning. The obscene thought of how you might look—taking two large cocks of perhaps the two most notorious dorm leader’s in NRC. Your mouth sucking and worshipping every rigid vein of the future King of The Valley of Thorns and your hole greedily taking every inch of cock from the Prince of Afterglow Savanna; not only are you taking the cocks of royal lineage but they’re so determined to drown you in pleasure.

The loud smacks of Leona’s pelvis against your ass rings loudly in your ears. His cock stuffs you full—stretching you wide and pumping euphoria with each vigorous thrust. Leona growls dirty words behind you, his voice floating deep in your head with each thrust of his hips.

The room is filled with the smell of sex and the wet sound your mouth makes with every suction on Malleus’ cock; impossibly large and your jaw aches from the sheer size. Stopping seems impossible for you—despite the ache, you’re kissing and tracing every inch of the dick in your mouth, Malleus cooing and praising you for taking him so well.

The two dorm leaders seem to be nearing their limit, evident in the way Leona’s thrusts slows and switches to a more impactful force and the way Malleus’ fingers tighten just the slightest bit on your head, hips bucking up into your mouth. 

Feeling the building coil in your stomach, your hips buck back onto Leona’s whilst your hands massages Malleus’ balls. The two groan loudly, pressing deeper into you and the warm gush of their cum emptied into you makes you reach climax with a loud moan, body convulsing into sensitive twitches. 

It’s after a few moments where you bask in the afterglow that Malleus is the first to pull away; gently maneuvering your head into a more comfortable position and pushing his cum back in your mouth with his thumb. “You did wonderful, my love,” he praises, petting your face and kissing your lips languidly. 

Leona stays buried deep inside you, making sure his come isn’t wasted but he’s collapsed over you and is essentially crushing you. “Leonaa,” you whine, hissing at the way his cock shifts inside you. You’re too sensitive for this. “Get off. You’re heavy.”

The brunet grunts in response, turning around and you yelp when instead of pulling out, Leona settles on dragging you along with him. You’re on top of him in this position; his cock stays plugged inside your hole and you splutter when Leona grabs the back of your knees and spreads your legs apart. 

“Don’t think it’s over yet,” you visibly freeze at his words, the lion smirking in response. “Competitions are really troublesome…How about we just see who’s child you’ll have? There’s a saying where a true man’s strength can be measured by who’s able to knock up their mate.” 

You feel like punching things and screaming what an absurd saying that is and that you doubt the legitimacy of such a saying but you feel a new pair of hands settling on your knees.

Malleus crawls in front of you, a smile on his lips much too amused to be considered kind and you gape at him when his fingers trail over your stomach. 

“I’ve been told that the superior seed will most definitely be able to impregnate a beloved,” his voice grows thicker, face inching closer to yours. You feel Leona mouthing the skin on your neck, fang scrapping lightly in a teasing manner. Malleus slots his mouth against yours, his equally sharp fangs teasing the skin of your bottom lip. When he pulls away, all you can do is blink hazily at his words, “Shall we find out?”

You feel the faint twitch of Leona’s cock inside you, Malleus already teasing your stuffed hole with the tip of his. “I- I don’t think- that- that.. I don’t I can..” The air in your lungs dissipates until it grows harder to breathe, mind numbing with too much thought and too little at the same time. 

Before you can further suffocate yourself in your own thoughts, Leona sits up. His hands stay secured under your legs and keep your spread apart. Your vision is suddenly only filled with the way Malleus is smiling gently at you, hands coming up to gently smooth over your cheeks to ease your worries. You feel Leona give you comforting kisses on your neck and shoulder, easing the tense muscles and coaxing you to relax. 

The gentle ministrations over your body makes you loosen up and Malleus draws your attention back to him when he holds your face. “Then… one at a time, hm?”

Leona laughs at that, marking your neck once again and giving you a shallow thrust, his cock feeling much bigger than it did before somehow. 

Your eyes widen in alarm, mouthing some words that don’t come out of your mouth. Malleus laughs softly, gliding a finger down your jaw and under your chin to level your eyes with his. Green emeralds seem to glow dimly; mischief stretching over his lips. His hand settles over your stomach and you moan softly when he applies soft pressure, emphasising the size of the cock inside you. 

“You may think it would be difficult to.. conceive but,” he kisses your lips, whispering against your skin as if revealing a secret; “In a land filled with creatures of magic… Anything is possible.” 

[misdre]

misi's beyblade AUs masterpost

i like making AUs, i have many of them, here's a post of them from oldest to newest. (at least approximately) (the ones that got no art of them have photos from unsplash. i just enjoy setting the mood)

⸻⸻⸻

Magical boy AU takao is an ordinary middle schooler who one day gets dragoon the magical spinning top from a cute little azure dragon, seiryuu, and transforms into a magical boy to protect the world from evil for some cosmic reasons that i haven't come up with yet. the rest of the characters have similar powers from their holy beasts and takao needs to gather up his team to fight the evil and. you get the drill is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 is there a fic of it? no note: i originally created this just because i like designing the outfits so i haven't planned the story much (this used to be my main focus but then 4kingdoms happened GJSDHGHSDG) i'd want to though, i'll get back to it eventually...at some point...... one of the charm points of this AU is that the holy beasts are these digimon-like animals that hang out with the characters and each have their own personalities.

Fairy tale monster AU takao and gramps live in a cabin in the middle of a forest full of monsters and takao decides one day to venture out to look for a silver-haired boy he once saw, he meets up with the other BBA characters one by one in the grim woods. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: my oldest halloween fic. the characters are all these different cute spooky creatures and it's intended to sound like a fairy tale.

One day, he determined that the time was ripe: Takao decided to leave for an adventure. For his grandfather was old, it was not at all unusual for him to lay down to bed before sundown. Once the hut had fallen in drowsy silence, Takao packed his one and only bag with what little he felt he needed, took his cap and jacket, and stepped over the doorsill. He had left the safe warmth of the hut behind.

Royal fantasyverse AU (the tale of four kingdoms) takes place in a fantasy universe with four kingdoms (east, west, south & north) created by the four holy beasts, in an era where each kingdom happens to be ruled by an exceptionally young king due to their respective circumstances. when the four meet for the first time, a snowball of events is set in motion that's going to affect all four kingdoms. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 is there a fic of it? yes 1 / 2 note: like a period drama with magic and gay and tons of worldbuilding. probably has way too many mysteries for the boys to solve because i have no self control when it comes to creating twists. this is The one AU that i have crammed every usable canon character into, i need enough people to inhabit four fucking countries

After creating the four lands, the holy beasts created people to inhabit them. Because the beasts were celestial beings and couldn't but guard people and the world they lived in from far above, they needed human vessels to lead the four nations. Thus they created four kings who would rule over other people using the four beast’s powers. The four kings were neither human nor gods, but something between – they were messengers, or icons, of the four holy beasts.

Omegaverse AU a canon divergence AU (i guess??) where genders are replaced by A/B/O and everyone being either canine or feline. max is a late bloomer canine and finds out he's the only alpha of the BBA boys thanks to a certain feline omega. is there art of it? not really but i do have dog boy max and cat boy rei art (which are a bit too cute for this kinkfest. i mean they're obviously aged up for the real thing.) 1 / 2 is there a fic of it? it's been in the works for like, five years but i always shy away from finishing it note: it's omegaverse, it's exactly what you'd expect. the smut is so filthy i've been too embarrassed to even post it. hiromi is also an alpha by the way

Coffee shop AU highschooler rei goes on a venture to hit on a local Hot University Teacher and coffee shop owner judy in a cafe owned by her, ends up receiving a bunch of flirty cups of latte from barista max working there. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: i mean, rei being into blonde MILFs is pretty much canon

Now that Rei looked at the boy more carefully, he realised his hair was just as fair and eyes just as blue as he knew Judy Mizuhara's to be. Maybe they were related? It wasn't that strange if Judy had hired a relative's kid to help out at the shop, right? He certainly looked American, but he had spoken Japanese. And then, all of a sudden, the boy turned to look back to him. Startled, Rei blinked his own golden brown eyes and shifted them back to his now empty cup. God, it was rude to stare at someone, wasn't it? He'd been too deep in thought to even notice doing it. Not that the boy had looked judgmental – he only seemed to wear a smile.

Soulmate AU max keeps having dreams with peculiar scenarios about a boy named rei. one day he borrows a book on soulmates from hiromi and finds a chapter talking about meeting your soulmate in the realm of dreams. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: i don't even care for soulmate AUs, this was my own dare to myself to find a single soulmate trope that interested in me enough to write a thing of it.

Max was walking through a crowded airport, carrying a heavy backpack with him. He had never been to this airport in his life, but somehow he knew exactly where he was, and where he was supposed to go. And he was in a hurry, and Rei had at some point emerged from the crowd, as usual, keeping up with him without bumping into any of the people that should have blocked his way. “I'm sorry, this is probably my fault,” Rei said. “I haven't even travelled in ages anymore, but these dreams just keep coming back to haunt me.”

Chess player AU rei is a young chinese chess champion participating in the world junior championships, ends up falling for the american chess prodigy max somehow in the process and is determined to get to play against him again. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: so this is one of the weirder ones i've done. it was inspired simply by me having a very vivid mental image of a scene of them playing dramatic chess together. this is probably my most underrated AU even by myself, i think the writing is pretty solid for such a short story of a topic i know practically nothing about

As a child, Rei had initially been taught to play xiàngqí, a Chinese game much more popular back in his home country; but chess with its refined, uniquely shaped pieces was love at first sight for the young Rei. He was a fast thinker and had amazing concentration skills once he set his mind on something, and he also had an outstanding memory, making it easy to memorise game patterns he once saw and then use them for his advantage. This all granted him natural talent in chess. But despite his skill, he had a bad habit of easily losing his temper and becoming indecisive once his focus wavered. Also, he was just a tad bit too sentimental. These traits often became his worst enemy in important matches, much worse than the actual opposing player. Keep your cool. Focus. Play well.

Flower shop + fake dating AU yuriy doesn't really know anything about flowers but is working part-time in a flower shop for the easy cash. he keeps getting a pair of weird customers who ask about flower language for hypothetical situations. is there art of it? not by myself and i don’t have a link to the fanart made of it unfortunately is there a fic of it? yes note: did i write this for valentine's day? i feel like i maybe did. this is my only AU (and fic in general) so far that's about a non-BBA character as the main lmao

“So, I need some advice for a particular situation,” the customer then began, idly tapping the counter with his hand. “I mean, not a real situation, of course – hypothetically speaking, if someone was just pretending to be going out with another person, but they weren't really going but it just needed to seem that way to everyone else, what kinda flowers would get the message through?” Possibly an idiot, Yuriy concluded his analysis. “So you need suitable flowers for a date,” he stated, shooting his eyes at his notes about common flower-usage.

Classical music AU (the heart that i love) max is a piano prodigy attending a classical music college that holds annual music competitions for the students. he's got some haters for being the son of a world-known pianist who's one of the teachers, but he also ends up having a budding romance with rei the mysterious chinese violinist. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 is there a fic of it? yes note: the origin of this was my "max and mao are besties" college AU. then it got mixed in with my thirst for classical instruments and max being bullied.

Max isn’t exactly a synesthet, but he has always been able to see music as pictures – as entire sceneries, as great adventures. This tendency of his emerges especially strong whenever he’s learning to play a new piece on the piano; as he moves along the melody, the scenery is also being built around him like a jigsaw puzzle, creating a complete picture piece by piece; and once he has mastered the song, he’s able to freely traverse and immerse himself in the world inside that puzzle. Some pieces have a more relaxed or soothing scenery than others, some are exciting and thrilling – even deliciously sinister in the way that a good horror film can be. Setting himself down in front of a piano is always an invitation to a world of his choice.

Bakeneko AU after moving to a small rural town in japan, max hits his head and starts seeing things, such as a weird white cat following him around. after a while, he's convinced that he's being haunted. is there art of it? yes is there a fic of it? yes note: another halloween AU, a more surreal one where max is human and rei is. well. not

Max kept walking, his eyes still on the narrow road. He hadn't noticed while deep in thought, but it really was quiet that evening. The sun had nearly set by now, leaving the sky striped with the dusk of the approaching nightfall. There was no wind to rustle the treetops, no birds chirping, nothing. Only the sound of Max's own footsteps on the pavement, and the matching sound that followed. Followed. What if someone actually was following him? A sudden, violent chill struck down Max's spine, causing his hair to stand on end. He stopped. After a short delay, the steps also stopped.

Genderbend AU a canon divergence AU where everyone's a different gender from canon (duh). starts off as an alternate version of the g-revolution world championships where the girls meet for the first time and befriend each other. rei is a professional model in addition to being a blader in the baihus, and max from the PPB is delighted to be able to battle her. she has no idea that rei has fallen for her at first sight, though. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 is there a fic of it? it's... in the works. note: i created this because i wanted to design attractive girls, what about it. absolutely partial to maxine's huge badonkadonks.

It wasn’t like Rei hadn’t already taken notice of her before, given that they were participating in the same world championship tournament, but the real turning point was the first time they stood on the opposing sides of a bey stadium. It was the day when the match-up roster signalled the match between the Chinese team and the American team, the Baihus versus the PPB All Starz; and despite both teams consisting of five players, it came down to, to Rei’s immense joy, the tag team of Rai and herself against the two most interesting US players, Rikki Anderson and Mizuhara Maxine.

Vampire & merboy AU rei is a starved vampire just about to end his own life when he meets merboy max at a forest lake. is there art of it? of max yes is there a fic of it? yes note: yet another halloween monster AU, this time they are both monsters though. this one’s a pretty grim one i have to admit

Rei succumbed into deep thought, considering his few options, when something grabbed his unsuspecting hand. Something yanked him forward in one mad splash and forced not only the rest of his arm but also his shoulders and head underwater. Half a second later Rei, so badly startled that he’d come close to slipping into insanity, found himself staring at a pair of bright blue eyes only inches away from his own face. His other hand and lower body still firmly on land, Rei pulled himself back with strength that he didn’t even know his weak body still contained. As he did, he also pulled up whatever was clutching his hand, which turned out to be another hand – a white hand with elongated, dirty fingers, so sharp at the tips that they looked like daggers.

Mafia AU max is the boss of the BBA mafia family, rei is a hitman and max's right hand man, the rest have various roles in the organisation. salima, mariam and some other girls (at least) are reporters doing investigative journalism on organised crime who get interested in covering the story of a group of russian elite detectives doing a thorough investigation of the BBA. is there art of it? of rei and max yes 1 / 2 / 3 is there a fic of it? it's in the works but it's just a gratuitous reimax smut note: this is a story i wish existed but this kind of police investigation action thing is so not my genre of expertise. that's why i'm just doing a PWP of my boys and the rest exists on conceptual level

“Did you know,” Salima said, perfectly peppy about it, “that there are secret underground auctions for stolen artwork that’s sold in the black market? Not just online auctions in the dark web but actual, physical events held somewhere in the city! Isn’t that so intriguing? Can you imagine how an event like that would look like, Max?” Max can – in fact, he doesn’t need to imagine. But he’d rather not think about it; the memories bring the familiar taste of bile in his mouth and make his gut curdle with a mixture of disgust and very particular guilt. The mere thought of it makes him set his coffee aside and bring a hand between his tightly shut eyes.

⸻⸻⸻

the next thing i come up with? who knows............

[mocha-sim]

Just a few character details/headcanons

Cooking, best to worst:

Kuroko and Akane are both skilled. Kuroko taught herself because she knows it’s an important life skill, and Akane learned to cook for herself and her younger siblings

Shiromi is also pretty good: since she lives in the dorms, she cooks for herself most of the time. She sometimes experiments with recipes, which has mixed results

Ayano is a decent cook. Her father has been teaching her since she was a teenager

Megumi has had servants to cook for her all her life and doesn’t know much about it. She knows how to follow a recipe, but not much else, so her food is usually nothing special

Aoi cannot be in the kitchen without setting fire to something

Most competitive (at sports, games, etc.):

Aoi, jfc. She can’t stand losing

Kuroko has a lot of issues surrounding the idea of someone being better than her, so she’s also pretty competitive (though she tries not to show it)

Megumi was practically raised to be competitive and always pushes to be the best, but she’s still polite when she loses... even if she sometimes has to act it

Ayano is competitive only when it comes to things she’s passionate about, otherwise she doesn’t care much

Shiromi doesn’t really care, she’s just here for a good time

Akane is the most chill and more likely to praise the others when they beat her at something

Best with animals:

Shiromi loves animals, and they seem to like her too. She wants to have a lot of pets when she graduates

Kuroko is responsible, and being good with animals naturally comes with that

Akane loves animals and is good at taking care of them, but she doesn’t like things like snakes or bugs

Aoi. She’s a huge fan of reptiles in particular and plans to get a pet lizard of some sort when she moves out

Ayano likes animals, but doesn’t feel like she could actually care for one herself

Megumi doesn’t know how to take care of animals. There are a few pets in her house, but the maids take care of them

Who eats the most:

Shiromi. If there’s food in front of her, she’ll dive on it. She’s the type to steal fries off the others’ plates

Aoi has an active lifestyle and eats a lot to keep her energy up. She usually sticks to healthy foods

Akane loves food and also tends to eat a lot. She has a major sweet tooth

Megumi’s family insists that she stick to a healthy diet, but she treats herself occasionally (if she’s allowed)

Ayano doesn’t eat a whole lot and doesn’t get hungry easily. She’s not a picky eater, she just has a small appetite

Kuroko eats small servings and is kind of a health nut

Who’s the heaviest drinker:

Aoi may or may not have a budding alcohol addiction. She loves beer and sake

Shiromi doesn’t care much about alcohol and prefers other drinks, but she’ll drink if she’s out with friends

Akane, Ayano, and Megumi drink wine or champagne on special occasions only

Kuroko barely ever drinks because she doesn’t want to risk getting drunk and embarrassing herself. She’s also usually the designated driver

Who holds their alcohol the worst:

Kuroko gets drunk super easily. This is why she never touches alcohol

Shiromi is also a lightweight, but she still holds her alcohol a lot better than Kuroko

Akane and Megumi can get drunk easily if they’re not careful, so they keep drinking to a minimum

Aoi needs to drink a lot before she actually starts to get drunk

Ayano never gets drunk. Nobody knows why, or how she does it, but she never gets drunk even when she’s having a lot of alcohol

Who cries the most:

Akane. She’s all-around the most in touch with her emotions, but also the most sensitive

Ayano used to cry easily in elementary and middle school. She worked on it throughout high school and does it less now that she’s in university, but inwardly she’s still sensitive

Megumi doesn’t cry easily, and when she does she does it in private only

It’s hard to make Aoi or Shiromi cry. Aoi, like Megumi, doesn’t cry in front of others

Kuroko has cultivated the “stern/cold” image so much that it’s almost impossible to make her cry

Wears the most makeup:

Megumi has to put on a full face before going absolutely anywhere. Even if it’s just the grocery store, she doesn’t feel comfortable without it (also, she’s sort of famous, so people would snap pictures of her and post them online if she went out without makeup)

Akane similarly wears a full face but genuinely enjoys it. She isn’t afraid of being seen without, she just likes wearing it

Kuroko wears makeup but doesn’t really experiment with it, she just likes to look a little more formal and put-together before she goes out

Shiromi doesn’t normally bother with a full face except for special occasions, but she usually wears mascara and eyeliner, and likes to experiment with different colours of eyeshadow

Ayano is similar to Shiromi and doesn’t wear a full face, but she doesn’t use as many colours and tends to go for a more natural look

Aoi only wears makeup on special occasions, even then mostly just mascara and eyeliner (she does great winged eyeliner because she doesn’t have to worry about getting it symmetrical lol)

Most to least admirers:

Akane has attracted a lot of attention ever since middle school and has lost count of the guys (and occasionally girls) who have asked her out. She tries to reject people politely but isn’t afraid to stand up for herself if someone gets too pushy

Megumi has a fair few admirers, but many people just want her for the money and social status. She knows this and politely rejects anyone who approaches her just to ask her out

Kuroko is very well-respected and well-known around the school as a result, so a handful of guys have crushes on her. A lot of them find her too intimidating to approach, but she’s been asked out a few times

Shiromi isn’t as popular as Akane, Megumi, or Kuroko, but she still has a few. She’s been asked out a handful of times and was in a relationship at some point (she’s the only one aside from Akane who has been).

Ayano is the type to try and blend in with the crowd and doesn’t want a whole lot of attention. She still has one or two admirers, but they don’t approach her

Aoi doesn’t have any admirers

Best grades:

Kuroko dedicates most of her free time to studying and always goes the extra mile on essays or assignments, but always turns them in on time. She’s driven and hard-working enough to have the best grades of the five, at the cost of her sleep schedule

Megumi is a busy woman and unfortunately doesn’t have a lot of time to put into studying, but she still does her best. She’s naturally pretty smart and has an easy time grasping concepts, so she still gets by with very good grades

Ayano used to struggle in high school, until an upperclassman offered to help her out. With his help, she got back on track and passed the university entrance exam. Now that she’s attending Saito University, she’s putting in more effort and achieving higher grades

Akane and Shiromi are somewhere in the middle: they take their education seriously and put effort into studying and assignments, but they also have other hobbies they want to enjoy and aren’t above procrastination. The average at Saito University is high and the two of them more than meet it, but they aren’t perfect

Aoi doesn’t have any real passion for what she’s studying due to being pushed into it by her family. Even with the lowest grades of the bunch, she’s still well above the passing mark, but her lack of energy for what she’s doing is reflected in her grades

[ofcloudsandstars]

The Solar Holiday parallels to the Lunar Cycle and Cycle of Life

Every Sabbat you see plenty of posts of what to do and the meaning and such but I wanted to draw some parallels that will always help you understand their relevance and their role to play in the cycle of the year and in life. In nature there are many patterns that overlap and mirror each other. There is of course the cycle of life, growth, death and rebirth that we see celebrated in the sabbats, that reflects our own life cycles and that is repeated monthly for each lunar cycle. If you honor the lunar cycles and the web and flow of magic and energy it brings, you will see a grander pattern for the solar cycle and the points that we celebrate for each sabbat.

Yule - New Moon - Rebirth

The Winter Solstice is the longest evening of the year as sunlight has the least amount of time on our side of the hemisphere and it coats us in darkness and frost. It's a time that prompts us to celebrate indoors where it's warm, where we can decorate with lights and come together with loved ones during the darkest time. This is the beginning of the cycle as the sunlight will only grow in it's light and energy until the summer solstice. This period reflects the New Moon where we feel more insular and self-focused. Where as the new moon causes us to focus to our emotional landscape within, visualize for the cycle beyond and create intention to how we can achieve our goals, Winter Solstice amplifies that for the entire year’s cycle to come. We may feel insular on a physical level, wanting to stay indoors and hibernate, connect with the deep roots of the earth in our own homely burrows or by eating the rooty foods in season. It's a time of visualization for the year to come but also rest and hibernation. In our life cycle this also represents a moment of our rebirth. Our spirit is still not fully in this physical world yet it has reincarnated for it's next cycle and is resting before taking form again. This period of the time is just the seed. There is no activity yet but there is potential that is ready to grow the moment you decide to plant the seed in the ground. Yule is fantastic for any magic or rituals revolving around rebirth, restarting or reviving old hobbies or lost projects, setting intentions for the year to come and visualizing where you'd want your year to take you. It's also a wonderful time to gather close friends and loved ones to celebrate the longest night of the year and give each other blessings towards each other's endeavors to manifest the dreams they have along with positive energy for the new cycle ahead. It's also great for resting, taking time away for oneself and hibernating. It's a time to travel to other realms or explore deeper within yourself with meditation, trance or flight. During your periods of rest and sleep you could take notes of your dreams or visions that may come your way that foreshadow the year before you.

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Imbolc - Waxing Crescent - Hastening

This period marks the middle of winter where we are halfway between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. In some places it may be in the middle of blizzard season where as others as the light slowly returns so do the snow drops and birds. It's noticeably lighter as the days begin to grow longer. Animals are peaking from their burrows and life is stirring under the Earth. During the lunar cycle this sabbat corresponds with the waxing crescent moon. It's a period representing our intentions and wishes that are ready to be planted. Around this lunar cycle the sun is sextiling the moon (and the next day they are in quintile which means natural talents or skills can be revealed), which the energy pushes us to want to experiment with our ideas, brainstorm or test things out. We may want to charge forward with our new ideas and impulses even in the face of resistance and actualize our dreams, however this is a time that’s great just for trying things out. Our sense of purpose may feel heightened during this point of the lunar cycle and during Imbolc in the solar cycle as Spring begins to stir. In the life cycle this represents the seed sending out new shoots. It's still underground but life is beginning to stir in the unseen realms. It is the period in our life cycle where we are developing in the womb. Life is beginning to stir as our soul finds it's way into a new body, full of potential, dreams and wishes yet still 'underground'. The meaning of Imbolc is said to derive from "Ewe's Milk" as it was the time when livestock began lactating in preparation for their babies birth. It's a time of preparation for the new life emerging. With the sunlight returning this is often a time of hope as you will feel more optimistic emerging from the relentless darkness of winter. This is also a great time to set resolutions, though most people like to set them during the New Year, the first half of Winter (really the period between Samhain to Imbolc- the dark period that represents the 'spirit world' of our life cycle) should be for resting and hibernating. With the light and energy returning you may feel more inclined to try new things or get stuff started, however it's not exactly a time yet to take charge on new projects, but brainstorm and experiment. Maybe take on new class for fun, try new mediums for art or enroll in an online course. Imbolc (also celebrated as Candlemas) uses candles and light to celebrate the return to light yet another layer you can add magic to this is making spell candles representing your wishes or potential to light during this time. Magic revolving around wishes, setting intention and clearing obstacles are great during this time. This is also a great time to divine to gain insight on your goals or advice on where to get started. Candle scrying can be insightful along with burning bay leaves to make wishes. Imbolc is also a great time to prepare for the year ahead by cleaning, whether that means cleaning the home, getting rid of the winter dust, banishing any beings you don't want around or it could mean cleansing yourself in the form of a bath or energetically with juniper smoke bundles and to lift whatever energy from the darker part of the year that you may be carrying with you into this quarter. It's a great time to break habits and "sweep" away unwanted energies from outside your home. It's a time to inspire yourself, believe in your potential and experiment in order to give yourself some experience or insight towards your goals that lie ahead.  

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Ostara - First Quarter - Childhood

The Spring Equinox brings fresh bright green grass, budding trees and sprouting flowers as life seems to return to the surface of the Earth. Chicklings are being hatched along with other offspring of animals. There is fierce energy in the air as this time of the year falls on the start of Aries season. (In the Southern Hemisphere it's Libra season which may make this new start be about decision making and finding a middle ground with your plans and reality.) With the start of Aries season we are filled with energy to charge ahead despite any opposition. The sun is in equilibrium before it enters the lighter half of the year. It is a time of decision making and planning to materialize your goals and gather what you've learned from experimentation from the Winter Crossquarter and apply it to reality.  In the Lunar Phase this corresponds to the first quarter moon which is a period of planning in order to take action. Taking action during this time can meet a lot of opposition but it's not a time to feel discouraged due to it. Often those obstacles show us what we need to learn and reflect on in order to overcome it or master it later. During both the solar and lunar cycle a good way to honor this square-tension of energy is to start planning and creating to-do lists of things you'd need to complete in order to manifest your goals for this cycle.

In the life cycle this reflects the time when the plant pours energy into it's new branches and sprouted leaves. The Branches are delicate and can easily be blown down with a heavy wind, but with resistance to keep growing and trying again the plant can succeed in sprouting. This also reflects the time of our life where we are children, exploring the world, running into new opportunities or challenges and learning how to overcome them. It's a time to celebrate the inner child, celebrate this time of challenges in a lighthearted way with competitive games (I will never grow out of egg hunts) and celebrate the new start of energy with laying down our goals. Magic on Ostara is great for focusing on what you want to sprout and grow. It's also great if you use divination to help draw up a plan of action. As the sunlight is at equilibrium but will get brighter as we head towards summer, it's a great time to use that energy of increasing light to help illuminate opportunities or solutions to help solve obstacles. Ostara is great for unlocking magic to open up opportunities for you. Though Aries season may bring challenges, the Spring Equinox is about courage in the face of adversity and enjoying the return to life. It's a wonderful time to honor the inner child and celebrate yourself with activities you loved doing as a kid.

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Beltane - Gibbous - Adolescence

As the pinnacle of Spring arrives, the trees are in full bloom, tulips have swollen past their peak and lay in a bed of their own discarded petals, Magnolia trees explode across lawns with intoxicated fragrances, animals sing with symphonies of mating calls and Spring Fever is in the air. This Sabbat is a celebration of fertility and the entrance towards the fertile quarter of the year when gardeners and farmers start cultivating their gardens and plants for the harvests in the next quarter to come. The Earth is blooming and ready to plant things in, the animals and people are ready to mingle and the energy is full of promise for our goals to bloom before us, if we just take the time to refine it and focus on revision. This time of year represents the gibbous phase when the moon is in between the first quarter and full phase. During the aspects this time is also influenced from when the Sun is trining the Moon bringing opportunities, luck and benefits if we focus on our tasks and refine our work. It's a harmonious time during the Lunar Cycle and the Solar cycle especially during dreamy Taurus season while everything is in bloom. This time of the year mirrors the life cycle of when the plant starts to bud and bloom flowers. With pollination there is potential for fruits to grow later in the cycle. This Sabbat reflects the point of our life where we are entering adolescence. Puberty is readying our bodies to be fertile though we are not ready to do anything yet since we still need refining and maturation. However like some teens, animals and the bugs of spring we may have one thing focused on our mind during this intoxicating time of the year. You may feel inclined to meet a match, (especially since it's warmer now, the flowers are out, people are dressing lighter, the animals are doing it so why not?) or focus on how you can work on and refine your projects or annual goals. Magic during this time is fantastic for attraction magic, using your energy to help your endeavors "bloom" or come to maturation and help accomplish your goals. It's a great time to put things in the soil with intention both metaphorically and physically. It's a wonderful sabbat to get your garden started and start to find ways to materialize things. It's a fantastic time to raise energy, take chances and attract opportunities or people your way.

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Litha - Full Moon - Adulthood

The sun is at it's Peak today as Summer Solstice is the longest day of the year. The start of summer has begun bringing in long hot days full of light and energy. Energy feels the most potent this time of year as the relentless sun can be reflected in it's power off of the pavement, the earth and plants it helps to swell up, the storms it's raises with it's heat and the excitement that summer brings. This sabbat reflects the Full Moon phase where energy feels at it's peak and it's great time to cast spells and release magic. During this time of maximum light, there is a height of clarity. During full moons as the two luminaries are opposite each other it can create polarities, decisions to make, new perspectives or oppositions however the key to balancing the intense energy is finding the middle ground that's best in moving forward with your goal. Summer solstice is often associated with love, partnerships and our relationships to others. In the life cycle summer solstice represents the moment where we enter Adulthood and we are finally independent however we still need connections to help our dreams to manifest. It's the peak time in our lives where we feel the need to network to get things done. Summer is the time of year most people make new friends, lovers or connections from everyone being out and about. Summer is a time of power where our influence can reach far and wide. It reflects the life cycle in a plant where it is bright green and leafy after it's flowers have been pollinated and shed and is turning it's energy into fruit. Summer Solstice may either leave you feeling energetic and charged like a full moon or the heat and brightness can leave you feeling restless and agitated as well like a full moon. It's a wonderful time to raise and release energy by a bonfire, charge magical items in the zenith of the solstice's sun, making connections with people, do friendship and love magic, use divination to make important decisions, make solar water, do solar magic, channel the sun's energy (sun bathing as well) and celebrate the peak of light and energy during this year! Any type of prosperity based spells would do great now as the energy is at it's peak and will help to amplify abundance in your life.

Parallel: There are Parallels with each sabbats as well. Where as Litha is celebrating the peak of light and our connection to others, Yule is very insular and focused on ourselves, our visions and rest. Litha celebrates the peak of light and life where as Yule is the darkest point of the year that parallels the life cycle where our spirit is not yet fully in this realm.

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Lughnasadh - Disseminating Moon - Middle Age

The fields turn gold with matured wheat, the fruits and vegetables are ripened and the first harvest is here. The middle of summer brings abundance and joy of our successes as we reap what we've sown for the year. This period of the year reflects the disseminating moon phase also known as the waning gibbous. Some aspects that influence this phase is when the moon trines the sun or when there is a sesquiquadrate that gives us the wisdom to help solve problems that the full moon might have illuminated.  As the moon begins to shed light after the end of it's full moon phase, it is time for us to share our knowledge and apply what we've learned. You have the wisdom of what you have accomplished in your endeavors and now it's time to share your work or wisdom with others. This time also help us feel full of love for what we've accomplished and generosity to share with others. The waning gibbous moon makes us feel in abundance and want to share the joy with others. Lughnasadh is all about celebrating our successes and sharing the wealth. A key ritual done during this sabbat is to bake bread with those you care about and share it together. This sabbat and lunar phase corresponds to the life cycle of the plant finally producing fruit. All of the hard work has finally paid off and we are seeing the fruits of our labor. During this time of summer many fruits are in season along with vegetables and the over abundance of zucchinis. This sabbat also corresponds to the life cycle where we are middle aged and finally have found our vocation or have mastered in our career. We are starting to enjoy what we do, have gotten good at it and can even teach our wisdom to others that are not as experienced yet. Even if you aren't in the mood to celebrate your hard work for the year, you may want to take this time to reflect on what you have accomplished and if you haven't moved as far as you'd like, what you could do to move that forward. Going back to the life cycle parallels, some people who haven't followed what truly resonated with them in life tend to have their midlife crisis's at this time and sometimes celebrating a sabbat that focuses on your goals accomplished can give you stress that the year is nearly over if you haven't been able to make much process. However there is still a lot of the year left for you to continue work, so it's a great time to reflect on the wisdom you've gain so far on your journey, glean whatever knowledge you can from your experiences and apply that to your journey ahead. However if you did have a prosperous year and are making successes this year it's a great time to celebrate! And maybe celebrate your successes with your friends (and their successes!) Additionally it's a fantastic time of reflection by comparing where you were last year during this time and the year before or five years before. You will notice that in some ways you have progressed and that is worth celebrating! Magic that's great to do during Lughanasdh is focusing on what you need to accomplish. Divination to gain further insight and reflect on your wisdom can be enlightening during this time. Creating charms and enchantments that will boost your ability to accomplish that to-do list you've created back during Ostara that may have been refined during Beltane would be great during this time too. Placing spells and charms on the CV you would need to send out or your applications, placing glamours on the projects you've finally released to hope they gain more attention and have a successful start, channeling Saturn to help you create structure and work at your goals and ambitions all will be great magical activities for today.

Parallel: The Parallel Sabbat to Lughnasadh is Imbolc. Where as Imbolc is about wishes and resolutions, Lughnasadh is seeing those wishes come to fruition.  Where as Imbolc is about potential and hope for the cycle ahead, Lughnasadh is celebrating those successes and hard work. 

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Mabon - Final Quarter - Crone

The warm air turns cool and crisp as the emerald leaves bronze and golden. Autumn is here along with the second harvest of warm and colorful foods from apples, grapes, wine, lumpy squashes and gourds. There is only a quarter left to the cycle as the light wanes from our side of the hemisphere. It's a time of reflection from the cycle we've experienced and gratitude from the wisdom we've earned. The Autumn Equinox corresponds to the final quarter moon phase in the lunar cycle. During the final quarter phase it's a great time to reflect on the journey you've had so far, meditate and self reflect on your decisions and wrap up any unfinished business or projects. It's a period for reviewing your work, your decisions and any longstanding issues that need to be addressed. In the solar cycle when the Autumn equinox appears in the northern hemisphere, it's the beginning of Libra season where harmony, justice and middle ground is found. It's time for us to make peace, reflect on the year past and be grateful. (In the southern Hemisphere it's the start of Aries season so that energy may manifest for you to challenge any unsolved businesses head on.) In the life cycle this represents the end of the fruit shedding and leaving behind seeds to start the next cycle. This also parallels to the the life cycle when we reach old age and become the Crone. We are wise with many stories to tell of our lives and can only reflect upon the journey we've had.  This time may make you feel ready to focus on your home life and prepare your home to be cozy for the colder months. It's also a great time to gather with friends and share stories of the year that has passed and the positive memories you've had of it. (Or if it was a shit year then celebrating that it is almost over!) Magic revolving around what you'd like to shed away would be great to do during this time. On a Mundane level it's a great time to clear the house, clothes you may not need anymore and do an autumn shedding. It's a nice time to give things away that you no longer need in order to pass it on to someone who could benefit from it.

Parallel: The parallel sabbat to Mabon is Ostara. Where as Ostara wants us to set down plans and sow seeds for goals we wish to accomplish, Mabon reflects on our journey and how we may have accomplished those goals. In the life cycle where Ostara celebrates birth and the inner child, Mabon celebrates the Crone and wisdom.

---

Samhain - Balsamic Moon - Death

The fallen leaves have littered the ground in brown frail crunchy corpses while howling chilly winds shiver the bare trees above. Halloween is nearly here and the waning light has plunged most of our days into darkness. The sunlight is towards the end of it's solar cycle and reflects the Balsamic Moon (also known as the waning crescent moon) in the lunar cycle. The waning crescent moon is great for shedding, banishing and seeking resolution or closure. It's a great time to cut chords and banish anyone or anything that is no longer working towards your best existence before you enter a new cycle and a period of rest. Instead of carrying any negativity with you during your time of self transformation and renewal into the new cycle, it's important to do some shadow work and release anything you do not want to take with you. In the life cycle this represents death as the plant becomes frail and returns to the Earth leaving behind a seed for the next cycle and as we shed our physical form and move on to the other side. Before we die it's important to find closure to issues we can resolve and shed away anything we don't want to take with us into the next cycle. Though death is a dramatic transition, it's a period of transformation and a start of another journey. Samhain is the crossquarter leading us into the darkest quarter of the year which is a great time for shadow work, spirit travel, self reflection and self transformation. It may be the heaviest time of the year for some, especially those that struggle with the relentless darkness but it's a time that offers rest, reflection and positive transformation. Samhain can make us feel moody as we may be more aware of our shadow selves and the darkness surrounding us. However Halloween has made dressing up as a monster and expressing our less favorable sides fun! It's time to embrace the darkness, be spooky and celebrate the end to the cycle. Magic on Samhain is great for banishing, cutting chords with that which doesn't serve you, finding closure, shadow work and communicating with your shadow self and self-transformation.

Parallel: The opposite Sabbat to Samhain is Beltane. Where Samhain is death and looking towards the next cycle as a chance to start again, Beltane is fertility and looking at the warmth and light ahead to reap fruits. The fields and garden of Samhain are filled with dead or bare plants fueling nutrients into their roots to prepare for winter where as the gardens of Beltane are blooming with fertile life.

---

Then the cycle begins at Yule again which is rebirth and parallels with the New Moon!

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hey everyone. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Get ready for some conflict, and two stubborn men refusing to admit their faults. Hope you enjoy it.

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Two - Teething Trouble

Day One: Monday

The further they trudged into the forest, the more Freed understood what Gajeel was going to put him through. In a word: Survival.

He should have guessed by the way Gajeel had treated him before they'd left magnolia that the antagonism shared between them would be a factor in the week. Gajeel had immediately told him to leave his bags at home - "You're only gonna need the clothes on yer back, city boy." - and had taken every opportunity to call Freed 'fragile' and 'spoiled'. Clearly, he thought that Freed was a man unused to roughing it, and who had spent his life in luxury.

To put it simply, Gajeel hadn't planned a training exercise. He had planned three days of pushing Freed to his limits, trying to break him and expose his supposed weakness. No doubt the following three days would be filled with pointless physical labour and an excess of exaggerated survivalist exercises,

Freed found it oddly exciting; he would enjoy proving the idiot wrong.

"Heads up," Gajeel grunted, letting go of a branch he'd pushed aside, clearly intending to let it hit Freed. Freed, being a trained mage with refined reflexes, caught the branch before it struck him. Gajeel saw, his lips twitched down slightly. "Hm."

"Are you intending to be obnoxious," Freed asked, boot squelching in the mud. "Or is that just your personality?"

"Not enjoying yourself, city-boy?"

"You've hardly proven yourself to be a conversationalist, have you?" Freed mused, climbing the small verge of grass that Gajeel was guiding him to. "And so far, rather than training of any kind, you've decided to take me on a walk around the forest and not much else."

"We're nearly there," Gajeel grunted. "And maybe if ya shut yer trap I'd be better company."

"You're quite defensive, I do hope I didn't strike a nerve," Freed hummed, wanting to annoy the man. "If simply insulting your plans has gotten your hackles raisen so quickly, then you've got thinner skin than I had expected."

"I've got thin skin?" Gajeel scoffed. "Sure."

That was the entirety of the conversation shared between the two men for the morning. The forest Gajeel had chosen for them to walk through was one unfamiliar to Freed, and as such he couldn't be sure if he was being taken a direct route to wherever Gajeel was taking him, or if he had been walking in circles for Gajeel to test his stamina and ability to cross a wooded area. They'd seen the same stream a few times, at different places, so Freed was fairly sure that they weren't going the most direct route.

Only when the sun was high in the sky did Gajeel decide to stop walking. Though he wouldn't say it, Freed's as thankful for the rest, as his legs were starting to complain. He looked around where they had paused to see what Gajeel considered a good stopping point,

Gajeel was obnoxious, but he clearly knew what he was doing.

He'd found a small clearing in the trees, with a break in the canopy that gave them direct sunlight and dryer grass. They were a close walk from the stream, so had both a water and food source, if the fish were safe to eat. They weren't so far from the trees that it would be a trial to find shelter if the rain began. Freed was impressed, and looked to Gajeel for further instructions; if he wanted to beat him at his own game, he needed to know what this game was.

"You might have figured out what this is," Gajeel began, looking towards Freed. He was clearly proud of himself. "For the next three days, we're camping out here, living off the land. No help, no magic, no luxury."

He had emphasised the word luxury, as if the lack of it might make Freed cry. Gods, it would be sweet to wipe that smile off his face.

"You act like I've never camped before," Freed commented.

"Not like this you ain't," Gajeel stated. Technically it was true, Freed usually had a flimsy tent at least, but it was hardly a worrying prospect. "We need food, shelter, heat. Since we have to work together, we split duties. I'll get some fish, you make a fire and get us some shelter made," He crossed his arms and smirked, "if you can handle it, of course."

"I'm sure I can cope," Freed drawled. "Though I might fall to pieces if I chip one of my nails."

Gajeel grunted and turned around. Apparently he wasn't happy that his clear assumptions about Freed had been thrown back at him. That only made Freed more enthusiastic about showing just how capable a man he was, and how wrong Gajeel was in his ideas.

With his teammate walking towards the shallow stream, Freed looked around to see what he had to use. Clearly Gajeel didn't want him using his magic for his time in the forest, so the shelter wouldn't be so easy as making a rune barrier to keep them warm and protected, but that wasn't too difficult to contend with. As they'd walked, Freed had been taking note of the wildlife, and suspected that wolves, bears and other hostile creatures would not cause a problem. The main cause for shelter would be the weather, both protection from the sun and the rain if the clouds rolled in. Perfectly easy.

Using his sword, which had been considered as part of the clothes on his back, Freed began ripping large sheets of bark from nearby trees. He then began hacking away at the lower branches, those wide enough to support some weight but thin enough to be cut away fairly easily.

With enough supplies, he walked back to the clearing. Gajeel was still in the stream, with the water up to his ankles. On the rocks by the shore, four fish were sat dead, wirh Gajeel seemingly attempting to catch them some more. It was an impressive sight to see, he was picking them out from the water without a second thought, and Freed was reluctantly grateful. Catching fish on his own was not something he would be proficient in.

Not without his magic, anyway.

He refocused his attention on the task at hand. He was intending to make a small hut for them both to shelter under. It wouldn't be complicated: four of the branches would hold up the sheets of bark. It wouldn't be particularly large, and the protection of the wind would be non-existent, but it would do what was needed to protect them from either sunstroke, or a cold, depending on the weather.

Freed quickly put his plans into action. The four strongest branches were dug into the dirt, propped up in place by the weaker branches. He tied the pieces of bark together using weeds and some of the longer leaves, making it into a single sheets that would protect them from the elements. It didn't take long for him to affix the bark to the branches, and he made sure to test the structural integrity of the hut by kicking each of the branches. With each kick, the hut held, and Freed considered it to be a success.

"Ain't too bad," Gajeel said, suddenly behind Freed. Freed only allowed a small twitch of surprise. "Don't see a fire, though."

"I expect that's because I haven't made one yet," Freed retorted, shaking the hut again to be sure the bark would hold. "I'm afraid there's not much space under it, so we'll have to sleep close to one another. I might have made it larger, but you seem averse to luxury and I didn't wish to scare you."

"You ain't funny," Gajeel grunted. "Make a fire, city-boy."

Ah, so 'city-boy' was going to stay? That was unfortunate.

Still, as much as Freed would have liked to explain how incorrect the nickname was, Gajeel would prefer actions over words. If he wanted a fire, Freed was happy to make a fire.

This was child's play for him, he was a mage after all. He made a bed of rocks to protect the grass from burning, then began laying thicker logs into a pile. Next, the thin and dried out twigs that would quickly set alight without much complaint. Finally, dry leaves that would take a spark and turn into fire.

It took a few moments for Freed to find a piece of flint, but he did. Once he had, he rested his sword in the middle of the unlit fire. He struck the blade with the flint, sparks flying from it.

Gajeel didn't once stop watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. He didn't, and the fire was soon burning.

"Is that satisfactory," Freed asked, placing the sword in the scabbard as the fire grew beside him. "Or do you wish for me to trek into the forest and tame a wolf so that it can protect us?"

"I said you ain't funny," Gajeel muttered. He handed Freed one of the many fish he had caught. "Gut this. Hope you ain't squeamish."

Freed openly laughed, having him gut a fish was Gajeel's trump card?

This would be easier than he thought.

——

Everything about the day had worked out in Freed's favour, and it was delightful to watch Gajeel get more and more angry about it. He clearly wanted Freed to blanch at the idea of working to survive, and Freed had proven himself a capable man under every task he had been given. This was a competition, and so far Freed was dominating it.

"Stand up," Gajeel demanded suddenly, and Freed raised an eyebrow. "You wanted to train right? Let's train."

"Very well," Freed said, standing up. "What did you have in mind?"

It was late in the evening now, and the fire was the only source of light. Clouds were obstructing the moon, thankfully, meaning Freed didn't have to worry about the demon burning away inside of him. Whatever Gajeel had in store, Freed wanted complete focus so he could finally end this ridiculous test he'd been put through.

Following his teammate, he was taken a short ways away from the hut he'd created. They were close to the stream, but not so far that they couldn't see one another in the darkness. Gajeel stopped, turned towards Freed, and spread his arms.

"You rely on yer magic too much," Gajeel stated, despite the fact Freed has spent the day disproving that fact. "And I'm willing to bet you hang back in a fight and let Sparky and the Acrobat do most of the physical shit. If you go against someone who cancels your magic then you're shit out of luck, and I ain't gonna fight with a guy who can only toss spells at a guy and hope it works."

"I can't decide if you're wilfully ignoring everything I've done today, or if you're too stupid to have a short term memory," Freed commented with a patronising grin.

"Keep talking shit, it'll only make this worse," Gajeel grinned, his fangs poking through his lips.

Freed went to retort, but Gajeel did the most peculiar thing, and removed his shirt. The suddenness of the action stopped Freed's words before they came.

"We're gonna wrestle. No magic, no weapons, no holds barred. Just gotta rely on our own strength. We keep going until one of us gives us or loses consciousness."

"Very well," Freed shrugged, reaching up to remove his cravat. "Once you've given up, you can perhaps lose this idea that I'm incapable."

"Doubt it," Gajeel grunted.

Freed, to keep in step with Gajeel, removed his own shirt and threw it to the side. As he did, he assessed his opponent. Gajeel was objectively a broader and more muscular man, and despite how intentionally toned he was - nobody got a six pack accidentally - Gajeel's muscles weren't just a result of vanity. The man was physically stronger than him, and had the advantage. But Freed had succeeded in situations worse than this, and Gajeel's cockiness would be his downfall.

With both men stripped to the waist, they assumed a battle ready stance. Gajeel counted down from three, and they lurched towards one another the moment the fight began. The bartering of a muscular form against his own took the wind out of Freed, but he grappled the man around the waist without hesitation.

They struggled like that for a moment, both pushing to wrong foot the other man, neither succeeding.

Freed felt his feet stumbling slightly, and knew that Gajeel's strength was greater than his own. He needed to be smart about this: he would exhaust his target, and take what opportunities presented to throw Gajeel off. One such opportunity had just shown up - if Gajeel wanted to push him back, he would give him what he wanted.

With fast movements, he removed his arms from around Gajeel's waist and shunted back. Too late to adjust his momentum, Gajeel stumbled forward, landing face first in the ground where Freed had just been.

"I'm embarrassed for you that that worked," Freed commented before he could stop himself.

Just as Gajeel pushed himself up off the ground, Freed tackled him again. He was successful this time, flipping him so his back was flush against the grass. When Gajeel's right hand came to push Freed off, he quickly took hold and pinned it above his head. He pressed a foot into Gajeel's stomach to hold him down, smirking as he went to further taunt the man. Just before the words could leave his mouth, a splitting pain filled Freed.

The bastard had kicked him in the stomach.

Gajeel had meant it when he'd said no holds barred. Freed could work with that.

Pushing himself up before Freed could recover, Gajeel crashed into Freed with his full body weight, and the press of the man's strong form was pinning Freed to the ground immediately. One hand was pressing Freed's hands to the ground, his foot was pinning Freed's right leg in place, and his other hand was pressing against Freed's throat with strength behind it. He also meant it when he'd said until one of them was unconscious.

But Freed was not a man to go down without a fight. With only his left leg unpinned, he did something he wasn't particularly proud of, but worked in the situation. He slammed his knee into Gajeel's groin, and the pressure went away as Gajeel staggered to the side.

"Fucking bastard," Gajeel roared, voice a little higher than normal. "What the hell?"

Freed didn't waste the opportunity, and pushed his foot to Gajeel's spine and pressed him face first into the ground. He'd cupped his balls on instinct, meaning his hands were essentially pinned below him when Freed asserted more pressure.

"No holds barred," Freed taunted. "A word of advice. If you set a rule around me, I tend to remember-"

He was cut off when Gajeel suddenly lurched back, throwing Freed's leg off him and making him scramble for balance. He grabbed Freed by the calve and pulled down with strength, taking Freed to the ground beside him. Freed found his arms yanked behind him, and grunted a little at the pain as they were pinned against his lower back. He didn't struggle, it would only exhaust him.

"Givin' up so quickly, huh?" Gajeel purred. "Ain't surprised. Knew you couldn't handle it."

Gajeel had meant to taunt him, but all he had done was show where he was. The words had been right beside Freed's ear, and so Gajeel's face was right behind his ear too. With a jerk, Freed rammed his head back, feeling the crack of the other man's jaw against his skull. The grip on his hands loosened, and he managed to push the man off him.

The following few moments followed a pattern. Freed would get the better of Gajeel, Gajeel would push him off and pin Freed down. Freed in turn would get Gajeel off him, and push him down. The pattern would repeat itself, with neither man gaining the upper hand for too long.

"Ah," Freed panted at the sudden cold on his back as he was pushed to the ground again. Water, they were at the stream now.

"Cold ain't a bother, right?" Gajeel smirked, kicking Freed in the chest when he tried to sit up.

"You're determined to think me weak, aren't you?" Freed rasped slightly, winded from the kick. "Which is a brave thing to say, given you were rolling around the floor cupping your balls just moments ago."

An exaggeration, but the snarl of anger he got was worth it.

Suddenly, one of Gajeel's large hands was wrapped up in Freed's hair, and a kick to the gut had Freed turning. A foot was pressed against this back, forcing him to lie face down in the cold water. Gajeel made sure to hold his face towards the flow of the stream, and the feeling of it rushing into his partially split lips and nose was a horrid burning. A nasty trick.

Freed tried to push himself up, but the fight was lasting longer than he hoped and after a day of labour, Freed's muscles were starting to protest. He tried to raise his head, but Gajeel wouldn't allow it.

Above all, Freed was a strategist. Sometimes, a retreat was the logical choice.

He knew he could get out of this hold. With the right angle, he could take hold of Gajeel's leg and pull it in the same way Gajeel had done to him to knock him off balance. But what then? They would fall back into the spiral of pinning one another, hitting one another, and achieving nothing.

This entire exercise was an act of futility. Gajeel was trying to prove Freed was weak willed and impractical, despite the fact it was clearly untrue. Freed was trying to prove Gajeel wrong, but the man was too pigheaded to accept it.

"I give," Freed grunted, voice warped by the water.

"What was that?" Gajeel taunted.

"I said I give," Freed spat.

The hand keeping his head partially underwater was gone, and the foot holding him down soon followed. Freed spat out the water as he turned, body aching as he sat in the stream. Gajeel was looking down at him as if he were dirt, and it took a lot of self restraint not to attack the man where he stood.

"You think yer hot shit, but you ain't," Gajeel grunted, "You're a spineless ass with some spells you rely on too much."

"You know damn well I only stopped that because it was pointless," Freed snarled, standing up, water dripping from him. "And you didn't ban magic because you want to see me fight without it. You were just scared of me showing my power because you know it dwarves yours."

"The hell did you say?" Gajeel growled, and magic energy filled the space as Gajeel's hands turned to a blade.

"You heard me," Freed's voice was distorted - demonic - and he didn't care. "You are in the presence of a powerful wizard and terrified."

For a moment, neither man spoke. Tense magical energy flowed form them both, ready to lurche should they need it. Gajeel relented, walking towards the fire, murmuring that he couldn't wait for the week to be over.

That, at least, was something they could agree upon.

[binniedeactivated]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫. || 𝐲𝐣🌪

pt. 2 | m.list

─▸🖤 ❝ @[@𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ]

✎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

✎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

✎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭. 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

“can I?!”. she shrieked. winter sighed,

“yes baby you can give him a hug”. scurrying to his side the small girl wrapped her arms around yeonjun’s torso gratefully. yeonjun smiled a bit leaning over to hug her back. he was lucky winter couldn’t stand to see her daughter upset.

because if it was up to her, sarai would never touch or see yeonjun a day in her life.

“tommorow by together back on set in 2!”. the director shouts and yeonjun nods in his direction. He then glances over at winter.

“so? how you been?”.

chewing on the inside of her cheeks winter grows angry at the montage inside her head of her struggling with a child on her own throughout the years. words couldn’t explain the heartbreak she felt.

it was prank, I’d never seriously get in a relationship with your ugly, fat ass.

god winter just wanted to punch him where he was standing. she took Sarai and led her back into the hair and makeup chair while still staring yeonjun dead in his eyes.

“after this, I don’t ever want to speak or see you again choi yeonjun”.

and yeonjun could say something back but he gulps instead, having to be on set within a few seconds.

all in all he understood where she was coming from. he was an asshole back then and if he were her he wouldn’t speak to himself either. but the past was the past and he thought by this time she’d let it go.

and like the inevitable fate yeonjun was assigned to babysit Sarai for the day. He grew fond of the bubbly little girl who had a knack for dancing and singing which he loved the most about her. The both of them played The Michael Jackson Just dance experience game in unison being way too competitive than they were supposed to be but they were having fun.

Yeonjun made his moves smooth and sharp and she tried to outdo him of course making her moves hard and sharp as well. yeonjun laughs, “you think you can beat me huh?”.

“I can try! You’re a really good dancer!”.

“Me?! you’re a good dancer too! I need lessons from you”.

Sarai laughs, “I can teach you!”.

as soon as the song ends yeonjun collapses on the floor tiredly out of breath. he didn’t even check the score board but he could already tell he lost by the way Sarai was cheering.

“Yay!! In your face junnie! that’s what you get!”.

yeonjun laughs at her cuteness. “Fine! You got me this time”.

she cheers a bit more before hopping herself on yeonjun’s tummy, laying down on it as if she was tired also. she was so freaking cute. yeonjun had the urge to play with her thick curly black hair but he thought maybe it was too much? But he felt closer to her in a way, if that made sense.

“can we eat? I’m hungry! geesh!”.

Yeonjun hops to his feet, figuring out of all the members he was probably doing the worst at this whole “babysitting for a day” fiasco. But he was trying his best. he goes into the kitchen and begins taking down ingredients from the cabinet.

“Have you ever cooked korean food before?”. He asked. She stands beside the counter patiently with her arms raised. Yeonjun nods and assist her onto the counter top, she sways her legs as soon as she got up there. She was so lucky really, to be spending time with one of her favorite idols.

“no. my mommy says my dad is Korean. but I’ve never met him and we never do korean stuff”.

Yeonjun pouts his lips a bit, fetching things from the fridge. “I’m sorry about that Sarai. Consider yourself lucky today then. I’m going to show you how to make tteokbokki. One of Korea’s most famous dishes”.

she claps her hands gratefully, “for real?”.

“yes of course”.

“you’re lit”.

yeonjun laughs at her comment. the happiest of feelings swarmed through her chest. she then got an idea but grew a little nervous to ask.

“can you? can you teach me more Korean things too?”.

“yeah! what do you want to know?”.

she ponders for a moment letting her tiny fingers stroke her invisible beard. yeonjun thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

“maybe? Teach me how to say hi in korean!”.

“that’s easy. Say ah-nyong-ha-sè-yo”. he explained, carefully sounding out the syllables.

“Ahh nee..?”. She attempts.

“Ah-nyong!”, yeonjun repeats pointing to his lips.

“Ah-nyong!”. She repeats back. Yeonjun smiles.

“Good job! now say ha-sè-yo”.

“ha!-seyo?”.

“Good!! now say it all together”.

“ah-nyong!-haseyo!”.

“good job!!”. he enthuses raising a hand for her to slap. she smiles kind of proud of herself. besides being in korea with her mother for business ventures that’s the closest she ever got to actually being korean.

“you keep it up, you’ll be better at korean than me”.

“I hope so! I really want to be korean”.

“you want to be korean?”. yeonjun trails off bunching the food together, trying to figure out what she meant.

“yeah! my mommy teaches me black culture all the time. I want to know what it’s like to be korean too”.

yeonjun nods, “I got your back sarai. but just know that even when you aren’t with me you’ll always be korean. alright?”. 

she nods her head yes smiling at him a bit. she was thankful yeonjun was here at least to give her a little taste of her culture. and she meant that quite literally also. because after they were done with the anchovy broth they began slowly stirring the doughy rice cakes inside of it. yeonjun held a spoon up  to her tiny lips carefully, with his hand just below it, letting her taste a bit of what she was in for. 

she hesitantly but surely bit into the rice cake and sipped a bit of the broth along with it. it sparkled her taste buds more than she thought. yeonjun thought it was adorable at how her eyes lit up at the taste. “mmm! this is good! your mommy raised you right”. 

yeonjun laughs trying to figure out where in the hell she got her vocabulary from, “my mother raised me right? what’s that supposed to mean?”. 

“i don’t know my mommy says it”.

“well, being korean, this is one of the most important dishes of your life. this, and there’s also pah-p!”. 

“pap?”. 

“yes. pap is steamed rice in korean. we eat it with almost everything”. 

“so ya’ll just eat regular rice all the time? no seasoning?”.

yeonjun scoffs, not expecting her to say that at all.  “we season our food”.

she smacks her forehead in a relieved manner. “whew! good! I remember once I went over my mommy’s friends house and she didn’t season her food at all!”. 

yeonjun laughs. “what did it taste like?”. he asked anticipating her answer. 

“nothing! air!”.

yeonjun tilts his head back and chuckles while taking down a couple of bowls and two metal pairs of chopsticks. he brings it to the counter carefully and places a good amount of broth, cheese, and rice cakes into each. except he never knew how much a little girl could eat so he gave her a small bit for now. 

but she whined. 

“no! I want as much as you have junnie. you want me to starve?”,

“really? you sure you can eat all that?”. 

she nods assuringly and yeonjun was quite surprised. “wow, you eat like me”. she giggles as he give her another spoonful of the meal. she got more comfortable on the countertop so yeonjun figured maybe she felt more comfortable eating in the kitchen. he sat his bowl next to hers. he swiftly grabs the rice cake with his chopsticks and blows on it softly. but he couldn’t help but notice her using two hands eagerly chasing a piece of rice cake around with the both of them. 

he chuckles. “you use one hand. like this--”.

he places his hand over hers, “it’s kind of like you’re gripping a pen or pencil. put your middle finger in between. put your pinky and index finger under, place your thumb across them both and let your pointer finger grip the first one”. he says,one by one he adjusts each of her fingers.

“ta da!”. he exclaims at the finishing product and she smiles. “so I just grab them? like this?”. she asks, sticking her tongue out of her lips as she focused to grip the rice cake with the tips of the chopsticks. which she did perfectly. 

“high five!”. she happily raises her hand to slap his.  “period!”. she yells. yeonjun furrows a brow, 

“period?”. 

“yeah! you don’t listen to city girls? my mommy listens to city girls sometimes. they say it all the time!”. 

“city girls? no i’ve never listened to them but thank you for the song recommendation”. 

at last, she finally got a taste of tteokbokki and it’s fullness. she loved it more than anything, especially the stringy cheese. 

with her mouth still full she speaks. “do you have kids junnie?”. she questions getting the broth all over her lips and cheeks.

the camera men who seemed to be enjoying the two way more than they should’ve. they’ve been laughing at her this whole time. they thought sarai and yeonjun were the cutest duo. 

“woah! you shouldn’t speak with a full mouth”. jun laughs before grabbing a nearby tissue and swipes her cheeks and lips clean. “but no I don’t. I think I’m too young to have kids. don’t you think so?”. 

“no! I think you can have kids if you really want to. and they can be rich and good looking kpop stars like you!”.

he chuckles. “really? I don’t think I’d make my kid be a kpop star”. 

“why not?”. 

“because it’s a lot of work. it’s really stressful and you have to have tough skin to be in this industry”. he says while chewing. 

“tough skin?”. she repeats glaring at him with wonder while licking her chopsticks. 

“yeah. you have to be able to handle negative things really well. I like being a kpop star because I love singing, I love dancing, I love performing, I love my fans and I love my members. All of that is enough motivation for me to keep going. but sometimes it isn’t enough for others”.

“hm. so you wouldn’t want your kid to be a superstar? that’s cold!”. 

yeonjun laughs. “they can. but maybe they can be a star in a different way you know? maybe not kpop”. 

she thinks for a moment while munching. “you’re going to be a really good daddy someday junnie”.

he smiles again. “thank you sarai. you’re really cute do you know that? I love your skin”. 

“really?”. 

“yes, you’re like a cute little hershey kiss”. 

and with that the both of them laughed and ate themselves tired. when they were done yeonjun already had a sense that she was sleepy just by her rubbing her eyes consistently. he collected the bowls and put them in the sink just before carrying her to the couch and placing a blanket over her. she was asleep in no time. 

she’s so cute, yeonjun thought. at that point he no longer cared if he did the best among the babysitting. he genuinely enjoyed her company.

“hello? is this winter?”.

winter rubbed her eyes and pushed the phone closer to her ear. it happened to be early in the morning. very early morning to be exact. 

“yes. may I ask who I’m speaking to?”. 

“good morning. I hope we aren’t troubling you. This is BigHit Entertainment”. 

she felt her heart drop instantly. 

“ah good morning. is there something wrong?”. 

“not at all. we saw that your daughter sarai recently did a casting a couple of weeks ago with choi yeonjun from tomorrow by together and everyone loved it! we’ve been getting so many good calls about it and we were wondering if sarai was available to do another casting with choi yeonjun? payment included of course”. 

winter thought for a moment. she barely wanted sarai to be around yeonjun the first time, never minding a second time. she never wanted sarai to find about who her father was and likewise, she never wanted yeonjun to find out about her, because he was a monster and what he did was foul. he didn’t deserve a spot in her life even if he begged for it. 

“I’m glad and I’m so happy to hear that. Do you mind if I give you a call back soon? I just need time to think about my decision”. 

“sure! no worries. you have a nice day winter!”. 

“you too”. she says just before ending the call. 

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Cock in a Box (part 1)

How they convinced me I’ll never know. Well, that’s not true. The allure of free alcohol after dropping nearly $17k on my upcoming wedding certainly helped fuel my willingness to participate in this embarrassing contest.

Without going too far into a back story that I’m sure you guys don’t care about, this past weekend was my bachelor party. I was taken to Atlanta by a group of my good buddies and the 7 of us in total were living it up for a long, 3-day weekend in and out of bars, hotels, and strip clubs. It was our first night there when Kevin heard about a bar with an unusual game: Cock in a Box.

The gist: there’s basically a line of glory holes that you stick your junk through for the audience to vote on which they like best. All participants get 2 free drinks (well, of course; no top shelf stuff) BUT the chosen winner gets free drinks all night, whatever they want.

The downside is that if you’re chosen to be the winner, you have to accept the award so everyone would know it was YOUR dick. Apparently pictures are allowed at this bar. 

With enough liquid courage in us we all reluctantly agreed to give it a go, some of us probably more excited or terrified than the others. I thought to myself, I’ll get two free drinks and some people will have a picture of my dick but no way to link it back to me. I mean, my cock was fine, Sarah didn’t seem to have any complaints, but I knew I was average at best. I assume the crowd will go for the biggest one and I wager one of my buds is packing something bigger. I’d hate to be them. Or would I? I guess I wouldn’t mind a couple extra inches.

Anyway, we got to the bar and it became clear pretty quickly that this wasn’t a bar catering to female clientele. 

“It’s a fucking gay bar, guys!” Brad exclaimed when we got there.

“Well,” Rodger said, “I guess that makes sense. I’ve never really seen a lot of women vying to see a bunch of dicks.”

“That’s not the impression I got from your wife,” Dan joked.

“Oh ha ha ha.”

I spoke the first words of hesitation, “do we still want to go through with this?” It was one thing to be showing my dick to a bunch of female strangers, it was another thing for them to be gay men.

Kevin doubled down, “It’s still free booze. Who knows, someone might even buy me some drinks in an effort to get lucky!”

The group razzed him on that and how not even a troll would find him hot, but I did have to admit he had a point. Our group was, generally, good looking. We’d all taken care of ourselves in the  years following college sports and while some of us packed on a few pounds since the glory days we were all still big. I knew gay guys liked that at least.

“It’s Ben’s big weekend, let him make the choice,” said Mike.

Sean, my little brother, was the last of our group to speak, “I’m not a big fan of this idea either, but if Ben’s in… brother solidarity.”

I leaned into the crap Sarah was always spouting out about ‘live in the moment’ or ‘enjoy the ride of life’ and said, “fuck it. Let’s get some free drinks.”

At the front part of the club, Kevin expressed our interest to participate in the game. It quickly surfaced that we were a bachelor party of straight guys and that seemed to tantalize the person taking covers. He let us in for free!

Once we were inside one of the staff ushered us over near the back of the club and explained what we were to do. Apparently we had arrived just on time as the game starts around midnight on Fridays only.

There were 10 boxes near the back part of a stage where I assumed drag shows or beauty contests or something went on. You could get into them from behind the stage so no one could see which one you got into. They were basically just telephone booths made out of plywood. Not super appealing but I guess did the job.

The staff member said once we were in there the MC would start the show and more or less we’d be told what to do from there. They would narrow down contestants by number, which was painted on the outside of the boxes as well as the inside so we knew what number we were.

The guy checked us all out, salivating, and recommended we play with ourselves a bit when we get into the booth to ‘fluff up a bit.’ That idea sort of grossed me out and I knew I wasn’t going to be winning anyway so I already decided this crowd would be getting a soft, limp anonymous dick in exchange for free booze. 

It’s probably worth noting that all my buddies and myself included are white(ish). I’m not racist, I swear, but at the small Tennessee college I went to there weren’t many people of color. I say this only to demonstrate that I felt like I had a good level of anonymity since it would be my dick against 9 other dicks that probably looked like mine.

The staff guy said to choose a booth when Sean asked where the other 3 guys were. There were 10 booths and we only made 7. “Oh,” he said, “when management heard you seven were together and straight, he decided to make it just you guys.”

We looked at each other and silently decided if we were still okay with this but I guess what does 3 other dudes matter. I guess now we knew one of us would be getting free drinks. That is, if they accepted their win.

We all walked up and into our respective booths. Kevin was beside me to the left and Dan was to my right. The other guys filed in. When I got in and drew the curtain behind me for privacy, I realized that I was NOT in box “3” like I thought I would be but “5.”

I heard Kevin yell, “I guess they randomize the box order too.”

Then Sean called out, “That’s good, I was worried you’d be sad when they talked about how small #2’s dick was and we’d all know it was you!”

Laughter among the guys, including myself, rang out.

In the box, there wasn’t much and not a lot of room. There was the infamous hole on the front side about three and a half feet up. I wondered what shorter dudes would do but then I also saw the wooden blocks stacked up on the side. I guess that’s for them to stand on if they don’t reach the hole.

The hole.

I looked at it timidly. My nerves were starting to climb as I realized what I had signed up for. What we had all signed up for. The plywood had been sanded smooth around the lip of the hole so my fear of splinters was gone but not my fear of the unknown number of gay dudes on the other side eagerly awaiting to look at our dicks. MY dick!

I was starting to second guess this whole thing and chicken out. The guys may not let me live that down. Well, I’m not going first at least.

The music faded out after the end of the song and someone cleared their throat into a mic.

“Gooooood evening, queers, steers, and bears. Oh my! Welcome to this week’s Cock in a Box competition. I’m your host, Anita Gudphuck, and we have a super special treat for you men tonight.”

My palms were getting sweaty.

“For you see, tonight we only have 7 contestants…”

Boos erupted from the crowd along with vocal pleads that they wanted to see more dick. I swear, gay people.

“But the seven we have are… straight guys on a bachelor party weekend!!!”

The original distaste for the limited offering turned into an uproar of cheers and whistles. What’s the deal with gay guys liking straight guys so much anyway?

“But, we’re all in for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity if we all agree to play by some secret, sexy rules. Will you all play along?”

More cheers from the audience. What did he mean by ‘secret’ rules?

“Okay, now, no one shout out the secret rules as we don’t want our mystery men to know. Up on screen there, you’ll see what to do.”

There was a few moments of silence and then some laughs, some ‘oh my goods,’ and a ton of applause and cheering.

“Do  you think you can all follow those rules?”

“YESSSS!” the crowd yelled.

“Okay, well then let’s play Cock in a Box! Straight boys back there, are you ready?”

I didn’t want to shout out but I guess none of my buddies did either. Maybe that would reveal us when we had to go out and get our drinks.

“I’ll take silence as a ‘yes, ma’am!’ Now, get your cocks in hand and ready to be judged! I recommend a few pumps and shakes to liven the guy up.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. How did I let Kevin convince me to do this? How did he convince all of us to do this? I undid my jeans and shucked them down my thighs. Looking at the bulge in my boxer briefs I took a deep breath. There’s no way I can do this right? No way any of us could do this, right?

“Okay boys, Let’s! See! Those! Cocks!”

I stood there for a moment, unwilling to be the first in case this was some sort of prank. The seconds felt like eternity.

“Are all you straight boys shy? Or are you just embarrassed by your tiny dicks?”

The audience laughed and started to call out things along the lines of ‘show us what you’re working with.”

I was sure we had all gotten cold feet when the crowd started applauding.

“There’s our first contestant! Ooo and what a nice dick!” Whistles in the audience agreed with her statement.

“Oh and another! And another! That’s three straight boy dongs right there.”

They’re actually doing it. Fucking hell. Well, tipping my metaphorical hat to Sarah’s dumb slogans, ‘when in Rome…’ I reached into my briefs, pulled my dick out and stepped forward, guiding it through the hole. 

Even more cheers through the audience, louder than the others it seemed like. 

“Four, Five! That’s some nice looking -- oo Six!”

“Come’on last guy, don’t be shy. Your friends all took the plunge.”

I wonder who was getting cold feet. I noticed now that there was a mild warmth on my dick which I now wagered was spotlights making sure people got good looks.

A final round of applause, “and there he is. Nothing to be ashamed of there, number 8.”

And just like that, we all had our dicks out to a crowd of gay guys on my bachelor party weekend. I didn’t necessarily want to be on the other side, but imagining the site was ridiculous. A long plywood wall with seven cocks sticking out of it with numbers crudely painted above them.

Dicks of straight men in a gay club, selling out the exposure of our junk for a couple free drinks. This would make a weird story to tell in the future I guess, at least among ourselves. I wasn’t planning on sharing this with anyone else.

Little did I know how weird, embarrassing, and hot the night was going to go.

[lastbluetardis]

Chemical Reaction (17/22)

Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: ~8400 words, explicit (for one small scene). Here we are folks! The culmination of the feels of the last several chapters. Enjoy xo.

If you like my stories, consider leaving me a tip? I know these are trying times, but if you are able, I would really appreciate it xoxo. And as always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated as well.

AO3 | FF | TSP

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue

April was usually one of James’s least favorite months. The weather was wet and cold, and with it being the last month of the semester, it was always busy with exams and projects. This year, however, he had the pleasure of knowing it was his beloved’s birth month; even though he didn’t know the precise date, that made it all the more fun as, day after day, he greeted Rose with a “Happy Birthday” snog.

Yet every day, she giggled and said, “Not today.” He wasn’t sure what he would do on the morning she kissed him and replied instead with, “Thank you.” Despite his brilliant, magnificent brain, he was stumped on a way to make an ordinary day extraordinary for her.

Though she said she didn’t want anything for her birthday, he couldn’t help but preemptively get her a simple gift: a silver necklace with an infinity heart pendant. The heart was studded with blue zircon—one of his birthstones—while the infinity loop was studded with small diamonds, her birthstone. Cliché, he knew, but the design had caught his attention. He hoped Rose would like it.

James had been carrying it around with him since the start of the month to be presented to her on her date of birth. Whenever the hell that was.

The weeks seemed to fly by, and still it wasn’t her birthday. He had several chilling moments of panic that maybe he somehow missed it, but then resigned himself to the fact it must be at the end of the month. Her so-called hint to him had told him it wasn’t the first or last day of the month… Rose would be cheeky enough to call that a hint if it turned out her birthday was the second to last day of the month. Nevertheless, James was having fun with their little game and worked to make the month special for Rose.

Though he knew she had been teasing when she’d suggested they make love every day so that she would wake up to birthday sex, they nearly met that goal, thanks to Rose staying overnight at his house more often than not. They were both growing to love the routine of cohabitating; James would drive them into the university in the morning, they would attend their respective classes, then they would meet up at the end of the day for him to drive them home again. Even on the days when one of them started earlier than the other, they drove in together, regardless.

While James’s main goal was to make April particularly special for Rose, he found himself realizing that even if it wasn’t her birthday month, he wouldn’t have done anything differently. It was a happy coincidence that the month happened to be filled with a multitude of romantic date night opportunities.

He had surprised her with tickets to the play put on by the university’s theater program, and had told her they would make an entire night out of it. He had dressed in a suit and tie; she had donned a gorgeous evening dress. Reminiscent of their Valentine’s Day plans, they’d had an early dinner out at a nice restaurant before driving to the university for the show. And when they’d gotten home, they peeled the other out of their nice clothes and made sweet love until midnight.

And when he took her to the cherry blossom festival in Washington, D.C., it wasn’t a birthday surprise, either. He would have wanted to tour the capital with Rose and bask in the beauty of the cherry trees no matter the month. There was nothing more romantic than walking hand-in-hand with Rose beneath the pink and white trees while the soft petals floated down around them. Nothing made him happier than seeing her face light up with awe as she took photograph after photograph of the scenery. Though the cherry blossoms weren’t as stunning as typical years, thanks to a warm snap in February followed by an arctic blast that killed some buds in mid-March, the scenery was stunning nevertheless.

They’d had fun exploring the various museums and historic sites in the city as well, but James’s favorite part was watching Rose scribble furiously in her sketchbook when they got back to their hotel room each night. She filled over a dozen pages during their four-day trip; she shared every single one with him, including the portrait of him she’d drawn one morning when she had awoken before him, and had occupied herself with sketching him asleep in the nude. Unlike her previous nude sketches of him, she did not cover his nether regions with a sheet, or simply not draw them at all. No, she had drawn every naked inch of him, down to the morning erection he had been sporting (which had also prompted her to draw a caricature of that very piece of his anatomy, making him howl with laughter when she eventually showed him the picture of a very prominent, very erect penis on a teeny tiny little person). 

Playing tourist with Rose was one of James’s favorite things to do, so even if it had not been Rose’s birth month, he would not have changed a thing. It was a mere bonus, pure happenstance, that they managed to go on so many romantic dates that month.

As the month plowed on, bringing him ever-closer to Rose’s elusive birthday and to the end of the semester, another date idea came to him. And this time, he intended to make it double as a birthday gift.

With only a week and a half left to go in the month, and Rose’s birthday falling somewhere in that time frame, James woke up one morning to an email from the student life office at the university. They were advertising discounted tickets to a Philadelphia Phillies baseball game at the end of the month. Perfect! He loved showing Rose more of the state she lived in, as well as the culture of America. And honestly, what was more American than a baseball game?

Rose was still asleep as James read the details of the email, though their alarm was due to go off in a few minutes. He silenced it on his phone and instead gently woke Rose up with a series of kisses to any part of her face not smooshed into her pillow. She grunted and buried her face completely into the pillow.

Chuckling, he tried again, this time pressing the long expanse of his body into hers. He shivered when his hips rubbed into her upper thigh; he woke up hard nearly every morning, and today was no exception. Some mornings, he didn’t feel a pressing need to do anything with it; others, when he snuggled up against Rose, his heartbeat concentrated into a dull, throbbing, insistent pulse between his legs. He was experiencing the latter, and hoped she would be in the mood to make love with him.

“Rose,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into her hair. He wriggled down a few inches and tucked his nose into the join of her neck and shoulder. He kissed her there and smiled when she shuddered. “Rooooose.”

“M’sleepin’,” she mumbled, but she tilted her head to free up her neck for him.

“Oh? Well, I guess we can’t partake in any morning activities I might’ve had planned,” he lamented, though he pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses to her neck. Goosebumps spread across her skin and he could hear her breathing going ragged the longer he kissed her.

She moaned softly when he scraped his teeth across her ear lobe. Finally, she stopped pretending. Turning her face out of her pillow, Rose slung her arm around his shoulders, hauling him closer for a proper kiss.

“Got another date idea,” he breathed between kisses.

“Don’t care,” she answered, chasing his lips.

“I’d like for it to double as your birthday gift.”

“Don’t care,” she repeated. His head emptied of all coherent thought when she reached down between them and took him in her hand, pumping him firmly. His nerves sparked with pleasure as desire settled heavily in his lower belly.

“But I… oh, blimey… I care… God…”

She nipped at his bottom lip and gave him a small squeeze on the upstroke that made stars burst behind his eyes. “You care more about that than what we’re doing?”

He could hardly draw in breath, so focused was he on the addictive rhythm of her hand. Each drag of her fist up and down his length heightened his need for her until he was certain nothing in the world was more important than being inside her.

But the smirk on her face brought out his competitive nature.

“Well, I’m quite cl-clever,” he choked out, trembling when she tightened her hold around him and picked up the pace. “I can walk and chew gum… talk and have se-ex shit!”

Rose guided him between her legs, nudging the tip of him into her wet heat. God, he’d barely paid any attention to her and yet she was so ready. He swallowed down his impatient whimper when she merely teased him, rubbing him through her folds rather than guiding him in.

“Hmm, I clearly am not doing a good enough job,” she mused, her voice frustratingly steady while he could hardly contain his gasps and sighs.

His brain nearly short-circuited. Not doing a good enough job? It was taking every ounce of concentration and restraint he had to try to hold this conversation with her; he would be done for if she tried any harder.

“The university is sponsoring another trip to Phillies… er, Philadelphia,” he squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut to think past the desperate need throbbing through him.

“Oh?” she asked, voice breathless as she stimulated herself with the head of his erection.

“Yeah, yep.” He cleared his throat, hoping it would stop cracking. “A trip to a Phillies game. Professional base-ball!”

Rose slung her leg over his hip and took him inside of her in one smooth, deep movement. Her momentum sent him to his back. Taking full advantage and giving him no reprieve, she sat astride him and began a brutal rhythm that stole his breath, stole his thoughts.

“Shit!” he rasped when the burning pressure in his belly bottomed out. Don’t come, oh God, please don’t come… Baseball. Think of baseball. Phillies, Philadelphia, bus trip, baseball game, showing Rose the stadium, teaching Rose the game… Rose… Rose… 

Rose was squeezing him from the inside, giving him such delicious friction as she arched her hips hard into his.

Fighting a losing battle, he choked out, “Sorry… gonna come… sorry… shit!”

Rose caught his lips in a searing kiss as he grunted and panted and moaned his way through his release, trying not to be mortified and to instead enjoy the pleasure and love flooding through him.

He was trembling when his ears stopped roaring. Cheek burning, he groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“That was delightful,” Rose said, a grin in her voice as she lightly tugged at his fingers.

“That was embarrassing,” he countered, moving his hands to her hips. “Sorry.”

She slowly pulled off of him and collapsed onto her back beside him. “You do realize I was trying to do that, right? You’re always so damn considerate and attentive. It was my turn to focus solely on you and getting you off.”

“I feel selfish for coming first,” he complained.

Rose shrugged and pecked a kiss to his temple. “How do you think I feel when you pleasure me more than once before you get off?”

“Hopefully extremely satisfied,” he drawled, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes, but kissed him soundly. “I enjoyed doing that very much for you, so shut up about it.”

He zipped his fingers across his lips, though a grin stretched across them. He caught her lips in another kiss as he let his fingers walk down her body, between her legs. She must have woken up as randy as he had been, because it hardly took any time at all before she arched her back and cried her pleasure into their quiet bedroom.

As she panted and trembled beside him, he stroked her hips, her belly, her thighs, any part of her he could reach, and tried his initial conversation again.

“The university is sponsoring a trip to a Phillies baseball game,” he said. “Have you watched baseball? It’s a fun sport. One of my favorites, actually. I probably ought to get my UK citizenship revoked for that, but I can’t get into the football matches. Though plenty of people find baseball to be boring too. To each their own. Anyways, tickets are twenty dollars, and it covers admission to the game and transportation to and from the stadium. It’s on April twenty-sixth. It’s a night game… 7:05 start time. I would like to make this your birthday gift. Well. One of your birthday gifts, since, really, I want to go to the game anyway, to hell whether it’s your birthday or not. But since I’ve only got about ten days left to choose from, I figure that’s a close enough window to claim it as a birthday gift for you. What do you think? April twenty-sixth… does that sound like a birthday gift to you?”

Rose giggled and pinched his side, drawling, “Very subtle, love.”

James pouted. “Seriously? You’re still not gonna give me your birth date? I’ve been patient all month long!”

Rose cackled. “You liar! You have not at all been patient. At least once a day you beg me to tell you when my birthday is.”

“That is me being patient,” he grumbled, though he grinned when Rose laughed at him again. Even though they would need to get up soon, he tightened his hold around her and snuggled closer to her soft, warm body. “Wanna go to the Phillies game?”

“Sounds like fun,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair. His scalp prickled pleasantly, and he could have easily fallen asleep. But alas…

“We need to get up,” he groaned, burying his face farther into her neck. Rose heaved out a sigh, clearly as reluctant to move as he was. “Wanna share a shower?”

“How could I say no to that?”

With a parting kiss, they rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.

oOoOo

“You know, I’ve never been to a professional sports stadium before,” Rose said as they strolled, hand in hand, away from the packed parking lot towards Citizens Bank Park, home of the Philadelphia Phillies baseball team. “Wasn’t much into sports back home, and didn’t really have the money for it.”

James gave her hand a squeeze and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Something was… off. She’d been agitated when he’d picked her up from her flat that morning to drive her to the university. She was short and snippy with him, but insisted she was fine even though she obviously wasn’t, which had only annoyed him in return.

He had nearly called off their date to Philly, since she obviously wasn’t having a good day and he didn’t think he could stomach an entire night of forced joviality. However, after classes, she had met him in the library as planned and was decked out in a red Phillies sweatshirt and matching lipstick, greeting him as though their tense morning hadn’t happened.

“Where did you get that?” he’d asked, fluttering his hands at her top.

“The internet. Turns out everything exists on the internet,” she’d teased, bumping her hip into his.

He had been thrown by her chipper mood, and Rose must have sensed that. She reached up for a hug and squeezed him so tightly, it was as if all the tension that had been settled over his body was suddenly gone. She lightly kissed his cheek and whispered, “Sorry for this morning.”

“What was the matter?” he asked, keeping her in his arms for several more seconds.

“I’ll explain later,” she said. “I don’t really wanna talk about it now. I wanna go watch some baseball!”

It had taken everything he had to not snap at her to just bloody talk to him. Instead, he promised himself he would check in with Rose after the game, or perhaps tomorrow, since it would be late by the time they got home. But he wanted to know what was bothering her, and what had been intermittently troubling her these past few weeks.

That dark day she had had nearly a month ago still niggled at the back of his mind. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but so long had passed that he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

Hey Rose! Remember that day you yelled at me in the food court then started crying? What happened?

No, that wouldn’t do. Because what if she didn’t remember? What if nothing at all had happened and she’d had a breakdown over a bunch of little things that didn’t matter anymore? He had been hoping she would tell him on her own time, because he didn’t want to press. And it wasn’t as though he had forgotten about the episode, but he often got too caught up in the present with Rose that he wouldn’t think of it until he was alone again. Part of his brain admonished him, telling him that he could easily have that conversation with Rose through text.

Presently, they scanned their admission tickets at the front gate and stepped through the turnstile into the stadium. James inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of cigarette smoke, fresh air, grass, and greasy food. There was a unique and distinct scent of a baseball stadium that he loved.

Rose let go of his hand and darted forward, her gaze locked on the field in front of them. James followed, smiling to himself. He stood behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist as Rose drank in the sight of the enormous baseball friend in front of them. The grass was lush and verdant, neatly trimmed in the familiar crisscross pattern most baseball diamonds favored. The dirt of the infield looked soft and dry, though the grounds crew were in the middle of hosing it down. The late evening sun cast long shadows across the field while the stadium lights, already switched on in preparation for the night game, created a multi-shadow effect as well.

“Selfie?” James asked, fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Need some help?”

James glanced over and saw a young couple approaching them. The woman held her hand out for his phone, which he handed over. He then wrapped his arm around Rose’s middle. She turned into his side and linked her arms loosely around his hips.

The young woman took several photographs for them, all of them beautiful. James thanked her, then reciprocated the gesture, snapping a photograph of the couple with the baseball field behind them.

When the couple had departed, James took Rose’s hand again and they leisurely strolled around the concourse of the stadium. There was a beer stand every dozen paces, it seemed, and though it was ridiculously overpriced, James forked over the money and bought them a beer apiece. They sipped it as they walked, inspecting the various food stands and merchandise on display.

“What the bloody hell is that?”

James laughed when Rose picked up a plush toy of a furry green creature with a plump belly and elongated snout.

“He’s the team’s mascot,” James answered. “The Phillie Phanatic.”

“What is it?”

James shrugged. “The Phanatic. He’s not really anything, I suppose. He’s his own creature. Don’t knock him, though; the fans love him.”

Rose glanced dubiously up at him, but replaced the toy. James made a mental note to order one for her as a gag gift. 

As they continued walking, James’s belly rumbled with hunger when he smelled the intoxicating aroma of bread, beef, and cheese. 

“If I get a cheesesteak, will you eat half of it?” he asked. “‘Cos I wanna get crab fries too, but I can’t eat both of those by myself. Actually, the crab fries are right over there.” He took Rose’s shoulders in his hands and pivoted her gently, pointing to a concession stand with a giant logo that read Chickie’s & Pete’s. He rooted in his pocket for a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Will you get us an order of fries? With cheese.”

“Er… okay,” Rose said, blinking. “What the hell is a crab fry?”

James snorted. “French fries—chips—with old bay seasoning. They’re really good, I promise.”

Rose leaned up and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky I trust your taste in food.”

She left him to go get their crab fries, while he stood in the Tony Luke’s line for a cheesesteak. Though the line was nearly thirty-people deep, it moved very quickly. Ten minutes later, he spotted Rose waiting for him in a secluded corner near the ramp they would need to take to go to their second-deck seats.

The university had bought out an entire section in right field, and James recognized many of the students lounging in the seats. He had managed to procure front-row end seats for him and Rose. He allowed her to take the end seat, then plopped unceremoniously onto the hard blue chair beside her.

“Beautiful, innit?” he asked, nudging his elbow into her ribs.

“It’s a gorgeous night,” she agreed. “Look at that sunset.”

“View’s nice too,” James said, leaning forward in his seat to look down at the field. Apart from losing a little bit of vision of the right field playing area directly beneath them, they could see the entire ballfield very well.

There was a half hour to go before game time, so they ate their dinner and chatted mindlessly with each other and with their fellow schoolmates who had come on the trip as well. They posed for a giant group photo that was then shared to all of the university’s social media pages.

James was full and content by the time the Phillies players took the field, and he draped his arm around Rose’s shoulders as he explained the rules of baseball to her.

The game was fairly straightforward, with no tricky calls he had to break down for her. There was a ton of action in the first few innings, with both team getting a few home runs, including a grand slam by one of the Phillies’ stars. The stadium erupted with cheers and the LED Liberty Bell began to ring as the Phillie trotted his way around the bases. Rose appeared to be caught up in the atmosphere, jumping and cheering along with the crowd.

It was fun, James thought, to be sharing this with Rose. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for other discounted ticket specials, even if it wasn’t for the Phillies. A minor league team was based close to the university, and he imagined he could get tickets fairly cheaply, if it would be something Rose was interested in.

During one of the inning breaks, Rose had turned to him, flushed and beaming. She looked breathtaking, with the lights from the stadium glowing behind her and casting her hair in a golden halo around her head. He felt his mouth go dry and his heart kick up a notch.

Rose frowned at him. “What? You all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I…” He swallowed thickly, then smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper red and a shy smile crossed her face. He reached over to brush a stray wisp of hair from her face, but then kept his hand on her cheek. “Love you.”

They moved at the same time, leaning closer until their noses brushed, then their lips pressed together. The noises of the stadium disappeared, lost in the heavy pounding of his heart as he kissed Rose. Her mouth was warm and soft, though felt a little funny with the slightly waxy texture of her lipstick.

He had meant for it to be a quick little kiss, though he should have known better; how often was he able to give Rose only one kiss? Angling his head slightly to the side, James lost himself in her, in the warmth of her hands. One of them was on the nape of his neck, the other at his waist, clinging to his sweatshirt as he devoured her lips. His tongue swept along hers, then trailed across the roof of her mouth. He delighted in her full-body shiver.

Before he could do it again, there was an explosion of noise around them.

“Hey, you’re not making a porno here!”

James wrenched away from Rose, blinking dazedly at the person who had interrupted them. It was one of their fellow students. He nudged James’s shoulder, then pointed towards the giant screen above left-center field.

His own dazed face looked back at him.

Kiss Cam. Oh, dear…

He grinned sheepishly at the camera, then pecked a chaste kiss to Rose’s temple. She looked equally abashed. Blessedly, the camera panned away from them, though the crowd of university students around them continued jeering and teasing.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmured to Rose.

“S’not your fault. I wasn’t exactly beating you off of me.” He snorted and kissed her cheek. “You’ve got lipstick on you.”

James licked his swollen, tingling lips. A moment later, Rose cradled his jaw in her palm and rubbed a damp napkin across his mouth. It came away stained red. Her own mouth was smudged with lipstick, and he helped her clear it off, too.

“You are too enticing,” he concluded when they were lipstick free. “How am I supposed to restrain myself from kissing you?”

“Maybe you shouldn't,” Rose drawled, and she leaned up to plant a hard kiss to his mouth again.

Of course, the Kiss Cam found them once again, to the delight of the stadium, and to their fellow students, who didn’t let them live it down for the rest of the night.

The last few innings passed without much excitement and ended with the Phillies winning seven to four over the Miami Marlins. They were exhausted as they traipsed to the charter bus that would take them back to the school.

It was just after eleven o’clock when the bus returned to campus, and almost midnight by the time James pulled up in front of Rose’s flat. For once, he was staying overnight with her, per her request. The climb up to her fifth-floor flat was exhausting, and James wanted to curl up with Rose and go directly to sleep.

“What time is it?” Rose muttered to herself when she unlocked her front door and stepped into her dark flat. She flipped on the lights and glanced in the direction of the stove; 11:42 glowed green from the digital display. “Ooof, gotta wee. Stay here!”

She sprinted down the hall and slammed the bathroom door behind her. James was left laughing and shaking his head at her.

He set his keys and wallet down on the kitchen table, but as he was about to toe off his shoes, an open, hand-written letter caught his eye. He didn’t mean to snoop, but his eyes and brain worked independently of each other and before he knew it, he’d glanced at the end of the letter, where the name Jimmy was printed in a messy scribble.

His ears rang hollowly and his head swam. Jimmy. Jimmy? As in, Jimmy Stone? Jimmy Stone, Rose’s wanker of an ex-boyfriend?

A righteous anger welled up in James; what the hell did Jimmy want with Rose? And how dare he contact her out of the blue after all this time.

Before he was entirely aware of his actions, James plucked up the piece of paper, eyes frantically scanning across the words.

Rosie,

I’ve started this letter half a dozen times now, and I’m no closer to knowing how to say exactly what I want to say. It seems surreal that we’ve been talking again. I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea. It’s like I’ve found a piece of myself I didn’t know was lost. I’m not complete without you, and I hate the person I am without you.

This past month has been the happiest of my life because I’ve been able to talk to you again. I am thankful that you let me apologize, because there is nothing more I’ve wanted to do for the last six months. Getting sober has made me realize a lot of things, but it especially showed me that I missed you and that I want you. The worst mistake I ever made was how I treated you, and I will spend the rest of my life hating myself for it. I will spend the rest of my life (our life?) making it up to you.

I love you, Rosie. I love you so fucking much. You make me feel like I can do anything, and I love how I feel when I’m with you. We were the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m such an idiot for destroying the perfect, wonderful life we had made together. I think I was scared. I was scared of not being able to support the both of us with my music, and I was scared about how much I needed you. You were a comfort to me, something I knew would always be there for me, something reliable, and it was scary for me to need anything that much. But I’m not scared anymore, and I know I can make it work this time. As you said, we were young, stupid kids and we made young, stupid mistakes. Now we can start fresh and build something even better than before.

I know you’re at school in America (which I always knew you could do! I always knew you were smart enough for school, despite what you said about yourself). I’m happy you’re enjoying your time in America. I want you to enjoy your time there, while you can. I’ll be here waiting for you when you come home. I’ll wait forever for you because you’re worth it. You’re so worth it, Rosie. I would wait a thousand years for you if I needed to. I hope I don’t have to though.

This time we can work harder together to make us work. I know you might not be ready to trust me yet, but I promise I will show you how serious I am. How committed I am. I will do whatever it takes to make this work between us, because I hate the thought of my life without you in it.

In the meantime, texting you will hold me over. I cherish every day, every moment that I can talk to you.

All my love,

Jimmy

James could barely think, could barely breathe. Something was squeezing his chest tighter and tighter until he thought he might suffocate as he read and reread the words of the letter. The love letter. The love letter that Rose’s ex-boyfriend wrote to her after a month—a month?!—of them having texted back and forth.

Acid churned in the pit of his stomach, eating away at his guts and making him certain he was about to vomit all over Rose’s floor. And worst of all, his chest was collapsing in on itself and his heart was breaking into more pieces than he thought possible. An entire month, Rose had been texting her ex-boyfriend—the ex-boyfriend she had supposedly written off and hadn’t deigned to contact in three and a half years.

And she hadn’t told him. A month, and she hadn’t said a single word.

His pulse thundered in his ringing ears so loudly that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until the sheet of paper was abruptly yanked out of his hands.

oOoOo

It was a relief to empty her bladder after holding it for most of the trip home. She had been tempted to use the toilets at the stadium, but the lines had been impossibly long.

With that need dealt with, Rose washed her hands and then her face. She felt greasy and grimy, and would have preferred to get a shower, but she only had a couple minutes before midnight, and she could finally tell James it was her birthday. She deserved a damn medal for not spilling the beans early—though there had been a few close calls—but she couldn’t deny it had been fun to play with James all month. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to simply look at her identification card, where her birthday was plainly printed in bold. But that was her James, wasn’t it? The smartest idiot in the room.

She rushed to brush her teeth and comb out her hair before she left the bathroom and skipped to her kitchen/dining/living room.

James stood by the kitchen table, a sheet of paper in his hands and a stricken expression on his pale face.

Oh. Oh, no… Her stomach dropped. He was reading the disgusting letter that had arrived from Jimmy out of the blue yesterday afternoon.

She didn’t know whether she was more embarrassed, considering the content of the letter James was reading, or angry that he had snooped through her things and read her mail. The former won, but fueled the latter.

Rushing up to him, Rose yanked the letter harshly out of his fingers. He flinched as though she had struck him.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, folding up the paper and setting it on the kitchen table beneath one of her class notebooks.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? You’ve been chatting with your ex-boyfriend for an entire month?!” 

There was an awful combination of accusation and hurt in his voice that simultaneously grated against her nerves and broke her heart. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to find out about Jimmy like this. He wasn’t supposed to read that letter until she had explained the past couple weeks to him.

No, not merely a couple weeks. A month. It had been an entire month (and a little extra) since Jimmy first contacted her, and Rose hadn’t said a single word about it to James. Shit.

“I was going to tell you,” she said weakly. “I just…”

“Just hid it from me by accident, did you?” he said, condescension dripping from his every word.

Rose clenched her fists and her jaw before coldly replying, “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to talk to anybody, or that I needed to tell you about every person I talk to. Sorry, d’you want to know about the bloke I chatted to while I was waiting for you in the library today? Wanna know about the girl I met at work ‘cos she’d recently broken up with her girlfriend and needed to talk to someone? Wanna know about…”

She knew she was being ridiculous but she couldn’t make herself stop until James interrupted her.

“Of course you don’t need to tell me about everyone you talk to.” Two pink stains spread across his cheeks. “But I would have hoped you would have trusted me enough to tell me when your ex-boyfriend, the ex-boyfriend you claimed to despise, contacts you!”

Rose crossed her arms in front of herself, gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt so tightly that her fingertips began to ache. “This isn’t about trust, James.”

“No? Well, it sure seems like it is. Because you don’t actually trust me, do you? Not nearly to the extent that I trust you. I’ve shared everything with you, Rose. Everything! I told you about the worst night of my life. How it still haunts me and gives me nightmares like I’m a child again rather than a grown man. But you…”

He flapped his arms wildly before letting them fall limply to his sides, clearly out of words. But he didn’t need any more words; the ones he’d hurled at her hit their mark, cracking her heart wide open. He didn’t think she trusted him?

Suddenly wanting him to hurt as much as she did, she met his eye and said, “I didn’t make you share any of that with me. You did that on your own. You opening up to me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same to you.”

It happened almost in slow motion, the way his face crumpled. The way his chin wobbled and his lips parted slightly with a soft, nearly inaudible, “Oh.” The way a crinkle formed between his brows, and beneath them, his eyes grew shiny with moisture. 

Shit. Shit shit shit!

“James, I…” I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that… 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, then his face smoothed into a mask of a person she didn’t recognize. Even before they became friends, when he was the random cute bloke sitting in front of her in their chemistry class, he exuded more warmth than he did right now.

“How silly of me to expect some level of reciprocity in this relationship,” he said coolly.

“I didn’t mean that, James,” she muttered, wringing her hands in front of herself. “Really. I didn’t. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you the whole thing. I was going to tell you all about it, I swear.”

He barked out a laugh, and it was one of the worst noises she’d ever heard. “Oh, yeah? When were you gonna drop that one? When we’re old and gray in rocking chairs in a nursing home? ‘Darling, remember when we were first dating? Remember that horrible ex-boyfriend I had? He texted me—ha! Remember when texting was all the rage?’ Exactly when were you planning to tell me?”

Any sympathy she had for him had evaporated and her rage returned with a vengeance. 

“Obviously if you’re acting like this, I was right to not tell you! Why are you being so unreasonable?”

“Unreasonable? Unreasonable?! My girlfriend has been texting the bloke she used to be in love with, and I’m being unreasonable?”

“Yes, you are! So what if I was texting him? What does it matter who I text on my own bloody phone?”

“You’re missing the entire bloody point!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I’m not angry that you’re texting him…”

“Clearly,” she grumbled, grinding her teeth together.

“…I’m angry that you felt the need to keep it a secret,” he continued as though she hadn’t interrupted. “And I’m upset because why did you keep it a secret? And what on earth could you two have been talking about if he sent you this… this…” James flapped his hands uselessly to the table and the notebook under which Jimmy’s letter sat. “...this love letter?! For all I bloody know, you could be wanting to get back together with him and…”

“No, don’t you dare,” Rose hissed, voice trembling. Tears of fury and heartbreak burned behind her eyes, blurring her vision. “Don’t you fucking dare accuse me of that. After everything I told you about Jimmy—and don’t tell me I haven’t told you anything. Just because you seem to have selective memory doesn't mean I never told you about his drinking and partying, and how he stopped paying his half of the bills, and how he manipulated me to always feel badly about myself. After everything I told you, how could you even think I would want to go back to him?”

A flash of guilt appeared in James’s eyes. He blinked and lowered his gaze, staying silent.

“Even if he hadn’t treated me like shit, how could you take away everything you and I have done together? Everything we’ve built together? How could you think I would leave us behind for someone I fell out of love with years ago?” She sniffled as her tears finally fell, streaking down her cheeks in hot, wet rivulets of grief and misery. “Do you think that little of me? That I would willingly go back to a relationship like that when what we have is so wonderful? Do you think so little of us?”

James scrubbed his fingers through his hair, making a tousled mess of the limp and somewhat greasy strands; they were in dire need of a wash.

“No. No, of course I don’t…”

“You just said so,” she argued, impatiently wiping her face dry. “You just said…”

“I didn’t really mean it. But you have to understand… relationships are so new to me. You’re the longest relationship I’ve ever been in, and we’ve only been dating for four months. Christ, teenagers in school manage to have longer relationships than this. How pathetic am I for being so illiterate when it comes to love and romance? I barely know what I’m doing half the time, and God knows if I’ve been mucking this all up but you’re too nice to tell me…”

Rose’s head was spinning as her heart fought to beat its way out of her chest. She’d heard this before… she’d heard this all far too many times.

I didn’t mean it; I just drank too much…

You’re remembering wrong, I didn’t say it like that…

You’re being ridiculous. Calm down and maybe we can talk like normal people…

I was so drunk I don’t remember doing that…

I’m the worst piece of shit, Rosie, and I’m sorry, please forgive me… 

She shook her head as though she could physically shake Jimmy’s voice out of her ears. Instead, she tried to focus on James’s words rather than map them on top of Jimmy’s.

“This is me telling you now that you are mucking this up…”

But James continued on as though she hadn’t spoken. And with how dry her mouth had become, she wasn’t sure if her words had been audible.

“...And you could be wanting to be in a relationship with someone who’s got a bloody clue as to what they’re doing. Why wouldn’t you prefer to be in a relationship with someone else…?”

“Because I love you, you stupid fucking arsehole!” Rose yelled, which caught his attention. He met her eyes and blinked slowly, as though confused. As though she were revealing a secret he’d never been privy to. “Yes, I love you, but you knew this! At least, I thought you did. I love you so much but you are breaking my heart, James. Haven’t you believed me these last four months?”

His mouth worked wordlessly for a few long and agonizing seconds.

“I… yeah.” His tone suggested otherwise, though, and she nearly began crying with frustration. All this time… all these months… Had none of it been real? Had he been pretending this whole time?

“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until bright lights burst behind her closed lids. “Thanks a lot, James.”

“I just…” He groaned, sounding as miserable as she felt. Good. “I’m so bloody new at this! I’m making it all up as I go and I’m worried I haven’t been doing a good job. I get nervous that one day you’re going to wake up and realize how rubbish I am at this. That you’ll get sick of holding my hand through all of this as I learn. I’m terrified you’re going to decide you’re done wasting your time with me, because you’re wonderful, and you deserve the best and I…”

“Stop!” Rose cried, a sob stealing the air from her lungs. “I don’t want to hear this. You have just… broken everything we’ve been building, James.” She hiccupped on another sob and impatiently sucked in a lungful of air. “We were supposed to be partners… I wanted us to be partners… I thought we were partners. We were supposed to be equals in this relationship. I don’t want you to put me up on a bloody pedestal, or for you to talk down about yourself or make excuses for yourself. I don’t want there to be this… this inequality between us for the rest of our lives. But if that’s always how it’s gonna be… if that’s how you’re always going to see us, as you being somehow lesser than me…” The force of her tears made her entire body shake. It felt like someone had blown a hole through her chest; she couldn’t breathe. “…then I don’t think we can make this work.”

The tears that had been threatening in James’s eyes fell down his pale cheeks. “What? Rose…?”

She buried her face in her hands, willing herself to calm down. But how could she be calm when it felt like the world was spinning too fast? James had been her tether, her anchor, keeping her grounded to the surface. But he’d let go, or maybe she had, and now she was crashing alone through the void. Lost. Adrift.

“You… are you breaking up with me?” His voice was so hoarse that she could hardly hear it. Though that might have been because her pulse was thudding in her ears instead.

Was she breaking up with him?

“I don’t… no… yes? I don’t know. I don’t want to. God, I don’t want to.” She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone. And right now, that really bloody scares me. I fought so hard, put up with so much, to make things with Jimmy work when I should have called it quits long before it all ended. And I didn’t love him nearly as much as I love you. I’m terrified about what I’ll let happen… what I’ll excuse… I can’t do that again, James. I won’t do that again.”

He reached out for her, but she couldn’t let him touch her. She couldn’t feel his fingers on any part of her body. Not right now. 

She raised her hands in front of herself and retreated a pace, nearly tripping over her shoes from where she’d kicked them off at the door.

The door.

With trembling fingers, Rose undid the deadbolt. “I- I want you to leave now.”

“No, wait,” he pleaded, raw urgency in his voice. But he didn’t come any closer to her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean anything… I didn’t mean… I didn’t… Please…” 

She’d never heard James, her eloquent, loquacious James, struggle this much for words. His eyes grew wild the longer he went without managing a sentence.

“Please,” he repeated, frantic. “Please, Rose. Don’t do this.”

She drew in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. It was late, and she was so bloody exhausted. She didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore, but she knew it was far from over.

“I need a break,” she said wearily. “I’m tired, James. I’m so tired.”

“We can’t leave it like this,” he rasped through a stifled sob. “Please.”

Rose met his gaze. Everything was written on his face, his grief and terror and heartbreak. He looked impossibly young.

“We’re taking a break for the night,” she repeated. She paused for a beat, then, scrambling for some sort of comic relief, quipped, “Not Ross and Rachel’s version of a break, mind. A time out, more like.”

James either didn’t process the joke or didn’t find it funny, because he was still staring at her with that stricken expression that made her want to wrap him in her arms and apologize for everything that had been said that night.

But she couldn’t make herself move.

“I love you, Rose,” he whispered.

“I know.” That’s why this is so damn painful. “I love you too.” Maybe too much.

Rose had always thought of their love as a fire. A soft, cozy fire, and together they basked in its light and warmth. But maybe they’d gotten too comfortable, gotten too confident, gotten too close; now they were burning, and oh, God, did it hurt.

“Goodnight James,” she murmured, opening the door for him.

He numbly walked towards it, completely forgetting about his phone, keys, and wallet on her table until she went and picked them up. His hands were cold and sweating as she handed him his things.

“Drive safe,” she said. “Text me when you make it home.”

He made a wordless noise she thought was assent, then he was gone, walking silently down the many flights of steps they’d cheerfully bounded up mere moments earlier.

God, how long had it even been? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed. Rose glanced at the clock. 11:58. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen horrible, heartbreaking minutes was all it had taken for Rose’s world to come crashing down around her feet.

She went to her window and peered down at the dark street, waiting. Half a minute later, James stepped out from beneath the front porch of her building and ambled slowly to his car. He moved as though through treacle, as though he were tugging an invisible weight behind himself.

She continued watching him, but James simply sat there in his car in the dark. The clock switched over to 12:00, ringing in April twenty-seventh. She’d planned to kiss him at midnight, as though it were New Year’s Eve, and tell him that he could finally wish her a Happy Birthday.

All of a sudden, her game of keeping her birthday a secret wasn’t fun anymore, and twenty-two didn’t look as optimistic as it had been.

The distant purr of an engine drew her attention to the street below. James had started his car and was pulling away from the curb, taking off down the empty street.

Rose fully gave in to the sorrow she had been fighting back for the past quarter of an hour. Sinking down onto her couch, she bent double over her knees and sobbed her heart out, grieving for all that had shattered that night, and for the unanswerable question of whether broken things could be ever mended.

[momentofmemory]

FICTOBER 2020 - day thirty-one

Prompt #31: “I trust you.”

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall.

Words: 2218

Author’s Note: an underappreciated aspect of chess culture? games played for fun are called Skittles. set post 5B, Scott & Stiles take a break to play a game of chess, and wind up talking about a whole lot more than just a game. Gen fic, Scott & Stiles focus. Stiles POV.

>> j’adoube (i adjust)

Stiles tosses his pen in the air. Watches it flip, twice. Catches it, barely. Toss and repeat.

“Hey, Scott.”

Scott, who’s sitting across from him at the desk, just grunts without looking up. They’ve been going over scholarships together for the past three hours, and it’s the most mind-numbing use of a Saturday Stiles has had in a very long time.

Which, considering most of his Saturdays have been more of the terrifyingly bloody variety, is probably still preferable. But still.

“Scoooooooott.”

Scott flips to the next page. “Mm?”

Stiles throws his pen at him and smacks him squarely across the face.

“Ow, Stiles—what?”

Stiles flips over onto his stomach, triumphant to have finally gotten Scott’s full attention. “You wanna play a game?”

Scott puts his own pen down and leans back in the chair, stretching and popping in a way that suggests being hunched over for that long is unpleasant for even a werewolf. “What kind? Board game?”

Stiles grins.

Board games, to his mind, are sacrosanct.

Not necessarily because he loves them—given a free range of choices, he’d rather do just about anything else—but because it’s so easy for them to suck.

Yahtzee, Monopoly, Shoots and Ladders, Candy Land, Sorry, even Risk—there’s just too much luck involved for his taste. Draw randomized but predetermined cards, roll uncontrollable dice. And that’s not even touching the disaster that’s Life, where the only two choices that ever matter are college or career, kids or no kids.

Absolutely nothing about bite or no bite, or possession or no possession.

Or ‘betrayed by a monster that gets your best friend killed and your crush of five years committed to an asylum,’ but.

Either way, it’s a joke.

There are better board games. Clue or Scrabble, which still rely on the hand that’s dealt, but at least can be salvaged with enough knowledge and strategy.

But he has the best one in mind for today.

“Chess?”

Scott’s eyes light up with a competitive glint Stiles feels like he hasn’t seen in ages, and he knows he’s won.

“I could do a round or two,” Scott says.

“Oh, thank god—”

“But, then we have to get back to work on these.”

“Yep, uh-huh, absolutely,” Stiles says, rolling off the bed and hunting underneath it for his set.

He fully intends to bribe Scott into playing way more than that, but one thing at a time.

His fingers close over the wooden case and he draws it out, blowing a bit of dust off the top. He turns it over in his hands.

If board games are sacrosanct, then chess is the holy grail.

Most people don’t get the attraction, and he respects that. It takes a certain level of concentration to be good at chess, and considering how many strategy books he’s read on the topic—even if he rarely remembers them—he can beat a casual player without too much effort. Plus, most people prefer games that don’t require much thought, perfectly wiling to just roll their dice and move their mice.

Stiles respects that a lot less.

What he likes about chess is that it’s the one game that’s completely and totally winnable every time—with no variation from chance or random dealing. He might be outmatched, but he’s not outnumbered.

Every choice he makes is fully his own.

It’s the best game.

The only marginal difference is that white has a slight advantage, as it gets to go first, so as Stiles tosses the set onto the bed he says, “I can be black this time.”

Scott barely glances up from the scholarship he’s still worrying himself over. “Hm? No, that’s okay, I don’t mind. You can take white.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and flops onto the bed. “You’ve been black the past like, eight times we’ve played. You’re white this time.”

“Stiles, I really don’t care if you want it.”

It’s an innocuous statement, but Stiles’ temper flares because all he can hear is that Scott thinks he needs the advantage—even if it’s one that, statistically, barely even matters. “What, because you don’t think I can beat you otherwise?”

“What? No, Stiles, I—” Scott falls silent, and it’s enough to instantly cool Stiles’ frustration. “I just—never mind. I can be white.”

Stiles hesitates for a few beats, then turns the board and starts setting the pieces up so the white ones are facing Scott.

He pauses. He’s been trying to pay more attention to Scott lately, but it’s hard—Scott tends to fold pretty quickly on smaller issues, and he tends to—

Well.

Not.

“Then again,” he tries, “I guess it doesn’t really matter—”

“You asked me to play white, so I’ll play white.” Scott’s voice is flat. “You were right; we haven’t switched it up in a while, so it’s only fair. Just give me a sec to finish this.”

“…Okay.”

Stiles toys with the edge of the board as he waits for Scott to finish restacking the papers.

One of the reasons Stiles likes chess is because it makes for a surprisingly good Rorschach test, and he’s played it with every member of the pack at some point or another.

Liam’s not much of a challenge, mostly because he’s made it clear he doesn’t care. The one time they played, he’d started strong—aiming to capture more than aiming to secure—but his failure to consider long-term strategy had gotten him into trouble almost immediately. With Malia, she has a good concept of how to control the center of the board, and favors trap-based strategy, but her ability to pay attention to her opponent’s gameplay is usually her downfall. Lydia tends to focus on a bishop and pawn strategy, which works very well for her mostly because it infuriates Stiles—his own strategy relies heavily on a more spontaneous approach to movement, and her method thoroughly demarcates most of the board. That’s probably why he enjoys playing with Kira, whose strategy rotates every time they play—as soon as he’d introduced her to the game, she’d started binging chess tutorials at speeds that put his own research to shame.

He hasn’t had the chance to play with the new pack members, but he has his guesses as to how that will go. Mason will play circles around him, but be super nice about it. Hayden will either trounce him thoroughly if she cares, or lose terribly if she doesn’t, and there will be nothing in between. Corey… Corey will probably favor the knights, which will make him hard to beat on the front end, but almost impossible to lose to in the endgame.

But he can work with that. All of those strategies make sense; make it easier for him to understand and categorize them.

He looks down at the white and black pieces, standing silently in anticipation of the match.

He can’t think of any reason Scott would want to reject the advantage, unless it was just for his benefit, but he hadn’t appeared to be lying.

And now Scott probably won’t tell him because he’d snapped at him instead of just asking.

Stiles winces and rakes his hands through his hair.

It’s just a chess preference. It’s not like it matters.

Except it does, because everything between them feels so fragile after Theo.

Stiles’ thoughts are interrupted when Scott vaults onto the bed, accidentally knocking one of the pawns forward as the board lists to the side.

“Whoops,” Scott says. The tiniest of smirks appears on his face as he moves to fix it. “J’adoube.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to announce that that’s not your move when I can clearly see what just happened.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Scott says, adjusting the piece. “You’ve definitely called me out for less in the past.”

“You tried to change your mind after wrapping your whole hand around a bishop! How is that less?”

Scott shrugs, and Stiles is relieved he doesn’t seem to be bothered about the pieces anymore. “I’m just saying. Can’t be too careful.”

“A mindset I would normally endorse wholeheartedly, however.”

Scott laughs, then settles in cross-legged and stares down at the board, elbows resting on his knees and face furrowed in contemplation.

Stiles glances at Scott, then at board, then back at Scott again.

Scott doesn’t move.

Suddenly, it’s really bothering Stiles that despite having played with him more than anyone else, despite knowing him better than anyone else, Stiles still doesn’t understand why Scott plays the way he does.

It’s not that Scott’s exceptionally bad, or that Scott’s exceptionally good. It’s that he’s both.

When he plays with Stiles, he matches him step for step, pivoting his goals almost as quickly as Stiles does. But the few times Stiles’ seen Scott play with others, that ability seems to vanish—his level of competence almost directly mapped onto the level of the person he’s playing with, above or below where Stiles would expect it.

It doesn’t make sense, but that’s just Scott. Stiles had long since acknowledged that there were always going to be some things that didn’t make sense about his best friend.

That was before Theo. Before everything that was Scott & Stiles fell apart.

And also, Scott still hasn’t moved.

“Hey Scott?” Stiles waits until he glances up at him, chin still resting in his hands. “You gonna go, bud?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. He blinks down at the board. “There’s just… a lot of options.”

“Okay, right, that’s true,” Stiles says. “But it’s also just the first move.”

“Yeah.”

Scott reaches out and touches the pawn from before. He hovers there for a moment, then retracts his hand—the pawn still unmoved.

Stiles clears his throat.

“Really? You want me to—” Scott sighs. “J’adoube.”

“Technically, you’re supposed to say that before you touch it.”

“And technically, you said I didn’t have to say it earlier, so that one could count for the one I just did.”

“Bro,” Stiles says, because this is getting ridiculous. “Literally just move the pawn. Or a knight. Or any of the other pawns. There are zero other options.”

“I know, I know,” Scott says. “I just… what if I move this piece, and then you move like your knight or something, and it turns out I made the wrong move?”

Stiles squints at him. “It’s your move. Why would my move, which comes afterward, make yours wrong?”

“Because I have to stop your plan.”

“Right, but like.” Stiles tilts his head. “What about your plan?”

“That is my plan.”

Stiles’ brain short circuits, and he spins rapidly through every game he’s ever watched Scott play. “So—so wait. You mean every time you’re playing you’re just… trying to figure out your opponent’s plan? You’re not making one of your own?”

“I mean, kinda?” Scott reaches for the pawn again, then pauses before touching it. “J’adoube.”

“Yeah, whatever, just move the pawn,” Stiles says. “So earlier, it wasn’t about wanting me to have an advantage; you wanted black because… it’s to your advantage?”

Scott spins the pawn around in a slow circle, then lets go of it without moving its position. Again.

“I guess,” he says. “You like playing white better and I like black better, so it just… makes more sense to let us play the ones we actually prefer.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

Scott shrugs. “It just seemed like it was important to you, and I… I didn’t want to argue.” His eyes drop, and so does his voice. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”

Something clicks in Stiles’ mind. “J’adoube.”

“Uh,” Scott looks pointedly at the pieces, which are still unmoved, and his hands, which aren’t anywhere near them. “What?”

“‘I adjust,’” Stiles says. “That’s what you’ve been doing. Adjusting your plan to match mine, or—or anyone else.”

Scott picks at the edge of his sleeve. “And that’s bad?”

“Um.” Stiles hasn’t gotten that far. “No? I mean like, you’re clearly very good at it. You’ve definitely beat me enough times doing it.”

“I sense a ‘but.’”

“See, there you go, anticipating me again. You’re a pro.”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay, the point.” Stiles glances down at the chessboard—and then at the pile of scholarships, too. “Look, I’m just saying you gotta just take the shot sometimes. Or move the pawn. Whatever. My point is, it’s okay to make your own plans.”

Scott shifts a bit to look behind him at the paperwork, something both worried and hopeful in his expression.

“And then, y’know,” Stiles continues, “you can always adjust them later if you have to. But you don’t have to start out that way.”

Scott picks up the pawn and turns it about in his fingers. He bites his lip. “And… you trust this to work?”

“Nah, man.” Stiles settles back against the wall and nods towards the board. “It’s the first move; I have no idea how it’ll play out. But… I trust you enough to know that you can handle it if it doesn’t.”

Scott’s eyes get suspiciously bright, but Stiles doesn’t comment. “I trust you, too.”

(And, well.)

(If Stiles’ eyes get a little bright too, no one comments on that either.)

Scott moves the pawn to e4, and lets it go.