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luckyshotwrites · 1 year ago

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Ch. 93 // They Don't Understand You Like I do // XXX

Contents (Warnings): Drake Makes a Deal (Angst, slight blood warning, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 4,600+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: Sleepwalk - Forrest Day

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(Roughly 4 and a quarter years ago)

Drake

The surge of nightmare-fueled pain woke him up. He fought to remove his covers and laid there motionless when he did. Every other night, he'd have a twisted dream. Sometimes, it involved his family discarding him; other times, it was like the event that happened a few weeks ago.

I hate being so damn useless. Drake forced himself to sit up. His hair fell over his eyes, making it nearly impossible to see through it. I should cut my hair. He attempted to redirect his mind from the vivid scene of the two vampires in the abandoned hospital.

He lazily groaned, twisted his body, and slapped down at his phone on the end table. He clutched it and pulled it from the charger. He brought it to his face. It glowed past his hair, barely readable. It's already noon. He dropped his arms and muttered incoherently.

He got out of bed, nearly tripping over the covers he knocked to the floor. He yawned, threw them back onto the bed, and then went to the closet to get his clothes. He lifted his phone to his face to check over the messages from the night before.

We're watching that horror movie tonight. Drake thought as he picked out something for later. Not that he assumed it mattered much. This time, he picked a 'safer' group of humans to hang out with, even though they were older college students. The worst they did was drink and act recklessly. Not that he couldn't stop them.

He took a shower and got ready in a light gray hoodie, black sweats, and Converse. However, something else caught his ears as he went down the steps. Their sound was unfamiliar.

The further he went down the second flight of grand stairs at the center of the home, the easier he heard the voices from the kitchen. I need to get into the kitchen. He wanted to get a drink.

He sighed. I'll ignore them.

Drake got to the doors and threw them open. His eyes trailed to the new blue-haired male, who gave a small wave, and then to Ulysses.

"Hey, Drake, morn-afternoon." Ulysses's voice always came off sheepish around Drake.

You're trying too hard. Drake remarked in his head. He nodded, acknowledging them both before going to the fridge.

"You're his younger brother, right? Ulysses has told me a bit about you." The blue-haired male offered his hand. "I'm Ace."

Drake's eyes traced over the hand the magus offered him, "What did he tell you?" He looked over at his brother before he opened the fridge door.

"I only got your good side," Ulysses's tittered laugh scratched Drake's ears. He rolled his eyes and got out a pack of blood.

"Are you visiting?" Drake asked Ulysses.

"For a bit," Ulysses said. "There's a party near town, and we're on break."

Ace finished drinking his water, "We should invite that new girl, Charletta. She seems so powerful and cool."

Ulysses nodded, "Koi doesn't seem bad either."

Drake took his first sip, tuning them both out. He would have left if Wenna hadn't popped in.

"I KNEW I HEARD YOUR VOICE, ULYSSES!!!" Wenna threw herself from the door, wrapped around him, and hugged her brother tight.

Drake bit down and punctured the 'straw' like the top of the blood packet.

"Hey, Wenna," Ulysses pet her head.

I have to get out of here. Drake hurried to leave. Wenna cheered upon seeing him, too.

"Drakie!"

"Nope. I have to go study." Drake lied and avoided her arms. He wouldn't say it; he refused to feel the warmth from any of them. Drake chose to focus on the vicious intent in their eyes. They only want my blood.

...

He pretended to go to their campus, claiming he was getting a degree as a linguistics major. He was glad they didn't ask more regarding his classes but also disappointed because he wanted to explain further about the degree. It was something he thought about doing in the future.

Drake jumped into their conversations whenever he could and held himself back during others. He wanted to be cool, so he threw down a funny or sarcastic comment from time to time.

Drake wanted to maintain a level of mystery and intrigue, too. They wouldn't get bored if they didn't know too much about him. Drake expected this to be it; they would split off and go to their cars, but one of them recommended the ice cream shop two blocks down.

He felt lost in their conversations as they got closer to the shop—their heartbeats and those from the few they passed were loud to Drake. He could tell who liked who, when someone felt uncomfortable, who tried to distract themselves from something embarrassing they said. He picked up and heard it all.

It left little to the imagination. Drake couldn't feel what they felt but understood it enough to know what each beat meant. Regardless of the heart's uniqueness, each beat had a different sound—playing the same notes.

Suddenly, a familiar sound caught his ears. He traced over those walking ahead and panned to the figure walking toward them. Drake fought with his heels. They wanted to turn and run.

What is he doing here?

"Drake!" The curly-haired male's voice came out in a hum. Those in the group looked back at Drake. I can't let them see me as a coward. He justified staying there.

"Hey...Andras?"

"A friend of yours?" One of the dudes' asked.

"More of a stranger," Drake commented softly.

"I'm his best friend, actually." Andras said, walking between them, "It's nice to meet you guys."

You're not going to meet them. Drake wouldn't introduce them to who he thought was a killer.

"I'll catch up with you guys." Drake turned around to head back to the movie theater.

When they were far enough away and no one else was nearby, Drake spoke, "Have you been stalking me?" What am I supposed to do if he says yes?

"Stalking you? No." Andras's voice left plainly. The beat of his heart was consistent enough. It doesn't seem like he's lying. "I have a proposition, though."

Drake responded quickly, "I'm not interested."

His attention drifted to Andras, afraid of what the guy might do. He prepared himself to stop any grabs. "Okay, how about a question instead." Their eyes met briefly. "Why were you utterly terrified of those lowly vampires?"

The curly-haired male strung all the wrong cords, "I wasn't scared." Drake lied, not even well, either.

"That's my point. You have all the power over them. Why don't you use it?"

Drake's nose scrunched, and his eyes finely encompassed Andras. He's taunting me. Drake kept his tongue curled in his mouth and held everything he wanted to say.

The amused expression on his face curved higher, reflecting a white reflective tape-like shine in his faint gray hue. "There's a reason you didn't use magic, huh?" He scoffed, "Don't tell me you felt pity for those who didn't care for you."

His aggravation was a poor sheath for his fangs. "I'm not stupid," Drake replied brusquely.

"Well," Andras said—he stopped at the wall of the theater near an exit. "The only other reason would be due to lack of energy. And if that was the case," he spun his finger around and then made it land in Drake's direction. "you'd be dead."

"It's none of your business."

Andras moved his pointer finger from Drake to the air, "It's not your fault either, is it?" He then clapped both of his hands together. "It's genetic, isn't it?"

How am I supposed to respond to that? Anything Drake could say would sound suspicious. He took too long.

Andras pushed off the wall, "You have a genetic issue that doesn't allow you to use magic effectively? Interesting." The brown, curly-haired boy approached Drake again. "I still wasn't wrong. You can easily control them even with that."

What the hell is he talking about? "You're delusional."

He shook his head, and his curls followed. "If you have something that someone else wants, you can control them," Andras said. "In your case, your blood."

Drake scanned around them even with the absence of heartbeats. He needed to make sure. Once a monster tastes your blood, that's it. Some even react to the sheer smell of it." Adding to Drake's ire, he boasted. "They'll do whatever they can to get it."

No matter what his instincts told him, Drake moved closer. "How am I supposed to control them when they're like wild animals!"

His snickering and refusal to retreat from Drake's approach made him want to hit Andras. There's no way I'd win that fight.

"You simply take that power you have over them."

"There is no power."

"How much are you willing to bet?" The smug male's grin strung up wider—unnaturally so.

Drake ignored the slow quake of his body. Stop it, body; I'm not running away. "I'm not going to make any deals with you."

Andras chuckled surprisingly lightly. It didn't hold a threat, "Fair." He took out his phone and typed something, then showed it to Drake. It was an address and instructions. "I'll show you what I mean if you meet me here with a vial of your blood."

Andras held up a finger, "and before you say it. You can bring whoever you want to ask for help to come along, Drake." He only showed it this way because there was no way Drake was handing out his number to him. "Stop by tomorrow with whoever you want," Andras waved his hand and continued to walk down the street. He still yelled, "I think you're strong on your own, though!"

Drake quickly typed the directions and instructions he read on his phone. He looked at the notes he had compiled. He must think I'm stupid. Why would I ever give anyone a vial of my blood?

...

Why am I doing this? Drake asked himself while he fiddled with the vial in his front hoodie pocket. He moved it between his fingers as he walked.

I know this is a trap. Drake couldn't get the idea out of his head. Andras could beat Drake; he had no reason to orchestrate this.

His claws tapped the tips of the vial. I don't trust him. Nevertheless, he came alone.

He didn't trust anyone he knew around his blood, and the only others he'd consider friends were humans. He couldn't rely on their help.

The streets were clean, a few people walking amongst them to nearby restaurants and stores.

As Drake approached the gentlemen's club, 'loose strings', he felt increasingly uneasy about it. It was broad daylight. His hoodie was up mostly to cover him from the sun's UV light, though it didn't burn or kill him outright. It weakened his body like other vampires, while the moonlight was too dim to do anything. Drake also felt timid embarrassment—if anyone saw him here, they'd think he was some pervert.

Why does he work here? He shimmed down the back alley, looked for the door marked with employees, and knocked. The metal rumbled under his knuckles, and he distinctly heard steps, voices, and their hearts from beyond it. Two so far.

The door flung open seconds later, and Drake was face to face with Andras.

"Nice to see you again, Drake," Andras said. He came out the door and wrapped his arm around Drake's shoulders before he could react. He wanted to fight it but allowed the curly-haired male to direct him inside. The place was dim—only a singular bluish light emitted from the far corner. Many poles, tables around them, and booths were on the far sides. Everything faced the stages.

The slam of the door behind him stirred him to jump enough and pull from Andras. A woman laid her back upon it. When Drake turned back, seeing Andras's smirk, mockingly so.

"I don't like being touched." He covered up his nervousness. He then reached his hand into his pocket and handed Andras the vial.

This doesn't seem right. I'm giving some maniac my blood. Drake peered over at Andras, inspecting it.

"This is great!" The male with three dots in a line under his eye said. He still walked, and Drake followed. He then grabbed a sack from one of the tables and tossed it to his left.

Drake caught it and felt the odd, sharp lumps inside. They weren't solid enough to be glass. He opened it up and saw the few stacks of money. "Why are you giving this to me."

"You think I wouldn't compensate you for this," Andras said, his eyes not fleeing from the vial.

Drake's parents were well off, but he never received money like this.

"Now, let me show you what I meant yesterday." He led Drake further back, past some red velvet ropes. Drake followed begrudgingly. He avoided touching the chairs or walls as they went down a strip of hall.

"You don't look much older than me. It's weird to think you run this place."

He looks younger.

"It's a good cover for business because no one cares what goes on here as long as the customers leave happy," Andras said, then his tone shifted. "But don't worry, you won't let customers walk all over you either."

With a tone of unwavering confidence and stonewall sternness, he culled Drake's ears.

He slowed as they approached the other person he knew lying behind the black curtains. He expected a performer, not a man in a suit taking a long drag of a cigar. Drake's eyes went from him to the small tables and booth encompassing the room. It was also bigger than where they came.

I don't think that man's human. He's probably in a human case. They weren't common, but Drake knew of them.

"Who's that?"

Andras sat down and ushered for Drake to sit beside him. Drake did so. I have the same question. Andras held the vial in his palm for the man to take.

"Try this and tell me what you think."

"I wanted a hum-"

"I said, try it."

The man looked to have a mixture of fear and respect for Andras—enough to take the vial. In mild disgust, he stared at Drake.

"You'll love it," Andras said.

Drake couldn't pry his eyes from the curtains. He couldn't get the images out of his head. Drake knew what would happen next. He kept his hands on his lap, awaiting the rush as soon as the man drank it.

I can beat him. Drake made sure to come to this with full energy. The gulp sounded loud, he figured, due to his focus. His wine-red hue flicked to the man momentarily. As Drake watched, his outer appearance, which was no different from a man in his thirties, burst like a balloon. It revealed a much larger creature underneath it. A sleek gray and spotted one with bulging yellow eyes, snarling fangs, and spiked thorns sticking up from its humanoid back. It looked like a human-like hyena.

Drake sprung up, Andras grabbed his arm then threw him back on the booth. And before the man could fully launch himself at Drake, Andras pulled out a concealed blade and stabbed it right into the male's shoulder.

It stuck him to the booth as he howled in pain.

"That's no way to treat someone who gave you their blood." Andras put his foot up and near the hip of the much larger monster. Fearlessly, Andras had his face right before the thing that could probably bite his head clean off. His hand didn't let go of the blade, and he twisted it in the wound. "Apologize."

Drake didn't move. He watched the blood squirting and falling to the cushions. He then looked at the monsters tail sway above its head, pointing directly at Andras's head like a skewer. There was an intense stare between him and the magus.

Even with Andras's back to Drake, he could feel the smile he wore. He knew he begged the monster to do something else.

The monster broke first and turned to Drake, "I-I'm sorry..."

Sorry? Drake could still clearly see the craving in his gaze.

Andras looked back at Drake, "do you forgive him?"

The question stunned Drake,��of course not. Drake wanted to say that. He didn't. "U-uh, yeah." If he kills you, I'm screwed.

"Do you want more blood?" Andras turned to the monster.

"Yes." The monster said without hesitation.

Drake jumped. "What."

Andras didn't turn to Drake this time. "Then you plead to him for it."

The monster wanted to refuse, wincing at the blade. Andras picked up the empty vial from the empty table and put it by the monster's nose. "You want to taste that blood again, don't you? It'll make you stronger." He said.

Drake expected another charge, even with the blade in his shoulder. That didn't happen.

"Please." The monster told Drake. "Let me drink more."

Drake had never heard that word before. He felt increasingly uncomfortable as he saw the monster's desperation grow.

He leaned forward, trying to taste from the vial, and Andras pulled it back. "I'll pay anything, anything you want."

Drake's thoughts were empty.

Andras leaned his head back, exposing his neck to the monster. "And you say you hold no power—look how pitiful he is." The curly-haired magus said, "You hold all the power here, Drake, so you decide."

No. "I'll waste my energy." Why am I even considering this!?

Once again, the curly-haired boy threw his head back and offered Drake a hand, "don't worry, I'll supply you with energy if that's your concern."

Why? Why would he even do that? Drake knew it would hurt, and this was not a vampire or vampire beast like him.

He nodded. Andras yanked the blade from its shoulder. It whined aloud.

"Don't tear my arm off," Drake ordered. Why am I seriously considering this?

The monster leaned into the arm that Drake offered.

It latched to his arm quickly, making Drake want to tug it away. He disliked the firm hold it had on his appendage and the sound of it lapping up his blood.

His other hand held Andras's wrist, and he could feel the energy Andras sent into his body. He's upholding his end of the deal.

He jolted when the monster started to pull harder and puncture his arm deeper.

Drake's other free arm came up. He swiftly grabbed under the monster's jaw, digging his clawed fingers into it. It stopped.

"DON'T TEAR MY ARM OFF." Tendrils of Drake's animosity lashed at the monster with Drake's hiss.

That was the first time he saw it—fear that he caused. He released them after that. The monster obeyed him.

"See." Andras's voice whispered. "I told you."

Drake faintly nodded. His voice had never come out that powerful before.

He touched his throat as if something else inside him caused that. The monster didn't go for much longer. Andras escorted it out while Drake sat back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Andras broke the stunned silence when he returned. He sat across from Drake in the large room.

He looked at his that had long healed. "Not the biting part."

Andra threw his head back and snickered, "It doesn't look pleasant, no."

Drake shifted, not wanting to sound impressed. "He listened."

"Mhm," Andras said. His pale eyes checked over Drake. "You realize you're a vampire beast, much stronger than a vampire, regardless of your 'defect,' right?"

"How do you know you didn't stage this."

"You don't," Andras shrugged. He put his arms up and over the top of the booth's back. "However, let me tell you this, Drake. If I intended to betray you as soon as you joined, what's stopping me?" He pointed his finger next to Drake. "You didn't bring anyone. I could have taken the energy I gave you back, left you weak, and kept you."

"Yeah." Why didn't you?

"Then why do you assume I'd stage it? Wouldn't it be easier just to kidnap you?" Andras questioned rhetorically. "I wouldn't have to pay you that way or prove a point."

Drake thought about it. He looked at the money on his other side. "You did all this to prove a point?"

He smirked, "Yes, and to ask you if you'd like to join me."

Drake narrowed his gaze. There it is. "And if I say no?"

"Your loss."

Drake listened cautiously for lies. Andras remained calm. There's always an odd calm about him. "I've seen what you've done to your 'employed.'"

Andras sat forward, "You mean those two diluted? I found them complaining about their lack of opportunity and power. I gave them power after, and they still didn't uphold their end of the deal." Andras sighed, "I supply my clients with a means, and they must pay me what's due."

He looked Drake up and down. "If I hire you, you'll be paid for your services, well fed, and protected if necessary. And most importantly, clients will listen to you; if they don't, you make them. And I'll show you how." Andras stood up and offered a hand. "It's ultimately up to you, Drake. You can join me or not."

He loses here. I don't know what he'd gain from making this mutual. Drake's hand nervously came up. He could overpower me. So why would he offer me this? Offer to teach and make me stronger.

Drake's hand clasped with his. "I'll join you."

...

It had been two months. Drake still wasn't infatuated with the idea of his blood being another monster's drink.

Though, at the same time, he liked the power it gave him. He never felt like he had control over something. It's what made Drake go back day after day.

It's also the reason he was leaving earlier today. Alexander outperformed even Ulysses, and his mom wouldn't shut up.

"Hey, honey, how did training go for you yesterday? You never told me."

Drake peered up from his phone to look at his mom. She's only saying that to seem like she cares. Drake lied to his parents. He told them he was back in martial arts again.

"Fine," Drake said.

He flinched when his mom sat next to him. He got up immediately. "I should be going to the studio."

"Isn't it a little early?"

"I can maybe train with the master," Drake said as he left the room.

"Oh, okay." He heard her broken tune. "Be safe!"

He ignored it and went down the hall, heading toward the entrance. He would have taken his car, but he knew his luck; they'd see it parked by the gentlemen's club and assume something.

Before he could reach it, another stopped him. "Drake, have you seen Alexander?"

He met her gaze. She was taller than him in her human case, too. And nearly as tall as Alexander. A messily twirled ponytail adorned her lighter brown hair. It swayed momentarily from her shoulder blades when she immediately stopped.

Her heartbeat read panic.

"No." Good thing, too. I don't want to deal with him. He held back his sympathy.

"Darn it, I don't know where he's run off to." She pursed her thin lips together. She ran her lower lip under her teeth before catching Drake once more when he tried to go around her. "Has he been acting strange to you at all?"

"No," Drake answered. I'm neither his babysitter nor hang out with him; he just follows me around.

She put her hands to her face, "I feel like he's been avoiding me lately." She jogged in place. "Not that I didn't expect it, but-" She threw her hands into her hair and messed up her ponytail. "Ah, that kid!"

I wonder what he did this time. Drake's skeleton nearly leaped from his body. He was so distracted with her that he didn't notice the other person behind him. He turned back to lash out until they playfully threw up their hands.

"What's got you so jumpy, Drake." Pete's laugh always left his lips so softly. He nodded toward his wife. "Is Olcay harassing you?"

It's more like I'm trying to leave, and she's in the way.

"Alexander's gone!" Olcay exclaimed as if it was a dire emergency.

"Maybe he's out finding a tall beauty of his own," Pete's blew her a kiss, and she pouted.

"Pete's stop it! He didn't even tell us he was going out this time!"

Drake successfully walked around Olcay this time. He wasn't going to stick around and witness their romantic advances. Besides, he didn't care much about the whole thing. He had work to do.

...

He rubbed the back of his neck. Why did I think that would be a good idea? If a vampire tried to drink from his neck again, he vowed to kill them.

He took a deep breath of the pine and slowed down. It's him. His eyes brushed across the forest floor. They fell upon the figure a meter or so away.

He was sleeping before, so Drake didn't catch him, but something stirred Alexander awake. Why is he out here? Drake's thoughts grumbled about in his head.

"Drake?"

Alexander got to his feet and approached.

I could run home. His house was pretty close.

"Why are you out here, alone?" Drake groaned to show his lack of enthusiasm.

"What? I can't enjoy the outdoors?" Alexander snarkily said. Before Drake heard him sniff the air, "Why do you smell like you've been bleeding?"

Drake's muscles compressed, ready for action. This is what I get for trying to use reversal magic myself instead of letting them do it.

He awaited the fight that Alexander didn't show any interest in having. He's not reacting.

Drake hid his worry. "Who cares." He continued his walk to the house.

"Hey," Alexander unexpectedly grabbed Drake's shoulder. Drake flung his hand around and clenched around Alexander's. Seeing that his claws couldn't break or squeeze him hard enough, he felt frustrated.

"You put your hand on me again, and I'll rip it from your body." Drake rolled it off his shoulder and soaked his words in animosity.

Alexander held against it. "I leave you alone when you tell me why the hell do you reek of your blood? What happened?"

"I don't have to answer to you."

"Did someone take your fucking blood or not?"

Drake's eyes narrowed. He flipped back and yelled. "SHUT THE HELL UP AND MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS."

Alexander flinched but didn't move.

Drake continued in his peeved fury. "All you do is follow me around when I fucking hate you, you damn prodigy. Stop acting like I'm so helpless that I need your damned help."

"I know you don't."

Drake growled, "Then why do you keep buzzing around me? I don't need a babysitter. And I certainly don't want you around!" He raised his arms and threw them down, "I doubt anyone wants you around."

Alexander lowered his head and gave off a pained laugh, "Yeah, like I don't fucking know that."

"Then why are you still here."

Alexander didn't answer.

The sound reverberated inside Drake's eardrums. It was as if Alexander's heart was forcibly curling in on itself.

His face didn't show it. Alexander's face only reflected anger—anger Drake knew was fake.

Alexander gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, then turned around. "Go ahead then, Dumbass." He went walking back to his spot. "Get yourself killed."

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

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What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#widfali #vore story #vore writing #v.ore #soft vore #v/ore #v.0re #v/0re #slight blood mention #nonsexual vore

12 notes · View notes

anakin-pilled · 1 year ago

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okay bestie i had to annotate this NOW because i was super excited that we finally got to see neteyam's POV 🤣 i hope i'm doing this right oops ?? my apologies if i didn't but anyway kisses to u bb xx *hugs*

none of it mattered anymore, not as he heard the screech of an ikran he knew all too well, that he loved, that was now lifelessly falling towards the ground, taking the woman of his worst nightmares and biggest fantasies along

im SCREAMING!!!!!! the last line specifically is very reminiscent of anthony's line in bridgerton s2: you are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. AHHHHHHHH i love it sm

Back then, he cried a lot, each morning a dreaded reminder of the pain and ache that awaited him each day, all for a purpose he couldn’t quite understand yet, that made no sense in a child’s mind

i want to put little neteyam in my back pocket and protect him forever 😭

"And just like today, if you ever fall, I'll always be there to catch you. You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together."

MA'M!!!!!! i always love the flashbacks you incorporate into your stories; you can literally feel the love radiating off the words!!! so precious ): how do you perfectly capture the sweetness and wonder of childhood love? but LMFAO @ such a stark contrast to the present time

“I know what I promised. And I intend to keep my promise. You don’t have to worry, Teyam. You and I have always been two sides of the same coin. And as long as you want me by your side, nothing could ever pry me away.”

SO SWEET I COULD LITERALLY CRY!!!! literally. she's literally crazy and he's her protector? best trope

“No. I’m staying here.”

AND THE CROWD CHEERED!!!!!!

No matter how the visions differed from his current reality, he couldn't shake you, couldn't let you go. Because despite it all, he couldn't part with the girl that used to be his partner in crime, his training buddy, his best friend, his first flight.

baby boy is confusing ): neteyam be like im gonna ruin your life (secretly love u tho 🤣)

"Exactly. So you can't fall, because if you do, I'll have to follow you... and I don't intend to fall yet, Teyam. Not yet."

i love how she says like this she has not choice BUT to follow neteyam. there's no other option!! i love her determination and confidence.

Oare was Seze's best friend, her companion and life partner, and Neteyam knew her death would affect his ikran for a long time, perhaps forever.

you're cruel andra 😒 but also the thought that vi and neteyam are so connected that even their ikrans are connected? AHHHHHHHH

he swore he never knew it was possible to love someone so much, to feel so connected to a soul, so much so it felt like he could hear you, your heartbeat and your mind, like tsaheylu would have been redundant because he knew. He just knew.

i have no words, just squeals and tears. if there is one thing you're gonna do, its write two characters with bonds that run so painfully and heartwarmingly deep

"I love you, Vi. I may have made you more responsible, but you made me better. Braver. More creative, more inventive. I almost couldn't finish the Iknimaya today, and then one of your crazy ideas popped in my head, and it worked. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't have done this without you, without your influence in my life. Thank you."

)))): THIS!!!!!!!! to be loved is to be changed.

despite your history, Neteyam would never look at you the same way again.

IM SCREAMING!!!!! IS THIS TH MOMENT YOU REVEAL WTF HAPPENED BETWEEN THIS??!?!?!? cackling to myself in anticipation. I'm literally annotating as i read in real time so this is my actual reaction AHAHAHAH

"I mentioned it to her. She said she... doesn't want to mate with Neteyam. That she couldn't ever love him the way a mate would. She was... very adamant about it."

MORE SCREAMING!!!!!!!!! okay hold up because jake is dead ass wrong for suggesting that 😭 like yes..he's probably thinking of whats best for the clan, but neteyam is literally his son and just as capable? mind you, they're ONLY 12. they still have growing up to do 😭 i understand why neteyam would hold a grudge...but it's like vi doesn't knows anything about this??? homegirl is confused and wondering wtf happened to the boy she loved 👁👁 it's not a petty thing to be mad over, BUT also he definitely could have said something instead of letting it fester all these years (but then there would no story AHAHAH) ALSO, i dunno i think he took the mating part too serious. as a young boy, who literally loves the girl, that would be extremely painful to hear. but also, they are children? like LET THE LOVE MATURE. vi probably traumatized and scared from losing her parents. CLEARLY YALL LOVE EACH OTHER!!! they are both thick-headed ass people. WHAT DO WE DO THIS INFORMATION?? WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?!!? OKAY I FINALLY REACHED THE END!!!!!! pookie this was amazing. you did such a great job (again). i loved how you experienced by writing in neteyam's POV!! girl every time you experiment it literally comes out so good. it was so aggravating fun being in neteyam's head. i hope u enjoyed my commentary lol this took up my whole lunch break 🤣🥰

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍: 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Memories flood Neteyam's mind as he deals with your accident, making him relieve your history and all the reasons he can't shake you from his life, no matter how hard he tries.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death)

wc: 5.1k words

a/n: I'm actually really nervous about this chapter, because while I love it, it's different than any other Monster in Me chapter so far. This is also the only chapter I've ever written entirely from the MMC's POV, and I hope you enjoy finally finding out why Neteyam's been acting the way he has, and why he's so adamant in his quest for vengeance. As always, thank you for asking to be tagged, I'd love to hear your feedback, your replies and asks and reblogs make my life, so thank you! Thank you to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art, ilysm bestie x and thank you to @draiochtwrites for listening to me talk about my stupid ideas for hours every day, i love you x

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, ite - daughter, srane - yes, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, tam-tam - calm, oare - moon, tewng - loincloth, torukspxam - octoshroom, ngaytxoa - I'm sorry, 'itan - son, angtsìk - Hammerhead Titanothere, yarik - herbivore, ftang - stop, tsantu - good guy, tsìltsan 'eve - good girl, kali'weya - arachnoid used in Uniltaron

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

And maybe in another life We fight all day, kiss all night But I don't wanna break your heart You keep yours, I'll keep mine

Neteyam, for the first time in his life, couldn’t have cared less if he tried that there was a battle underway, that there were humans screaming and charging at the Na’vi around him, that the explosions happening every time a helicopter went down in flames deafened his ears - none of it mattered anymore, not as he heard the screech of an ikran he knew all too well, that he loved, that was now lifelessly falling towards the ground, taking the woman of his worst nightmares and biggest fantasies along, not when, with every second passing where he ignored the rest of his surroundings and dove as fast as his own ikran could possibly fly in order to make it to you in time, another memory flashed across his mind, so many memories he thought he left behind, so many memories that would haunt his every waking moment if he wouldn’t catch you, if he was too late.

“Teyam, do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re my best friend. Of course I trust you.”

Your mischievous smile, although more devious than Neteyam liked, always had power to put his heart to ease… after all, it was you. You, his best friend, the girl who knew everything about him, that helped him withstand every challenge life threw at him, just a couple 11 year olds who had gone through more than most adults do, who have been forced to grow up a lot faster than any kid their own age should ever do. But Neteyam didn’t mind. Maybe he used to, back when he was young and naive. Back then, he cried a lot, each morning a dreaded reminder of the pain and ache that awaited him each day, all for a purpose he couldn’t quite understand yet, that made no sense in a child’s mind, that had no way of truly understanding the concept of a future littered with war and loss, a future where he would carry the burden of being the next leader of his clan, the eldest son of the mighty, revered Toruk Makto and Palulukan Makto, the grandson of brave, respected leaders, the next in line of a ruling dynasty filled with great people he had to follow and to live up to.

Now, he no longer cried, because no matter how hard life got, he was never alone. Because, even though you didn’t have quite the same pressure on your shoulders, you carried your own burdens and a sadness deeper than Neteyam could ever imagine or could ever want to. In his mind, the sting from a few bloodied gashes and the headaches that tried him each night were a small inconvenience compared to the pain that you struggled with and braved every moment since your parents died. When his father told him that you would be joining him for training in the weeks after the accident, Neteyam didn’t know what to expect. But day after day, you managed to blow not only his expectations, but his entire family’s out of the water, each day just another opportunity for you to prove to everyone that your future would be as bright as all the stars in the night combined, that you were special and unique, that you were a talent that only comes once in a few lifetimes.

Now, years later, Neteyam still found it hard to believe how strong you were, how capable and skilled and fearless. Whereas he’s always been more withdrawn and temperate, your fire burned strong and untamed, and you always managed to get both of you in trouble - if he were to be honest with himself, though, he would never mind, not with you.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

You didn’t bother looking behind you as you started sprinting, your flowy top and tewng, always one-of-a-kind, undulating in the wind, making Neteyam’s heart flutter in his chest. You were so beautiful. The most beautiful. A purple flush rising in his cheeks was all that was needed for Neteyam to be grateful for the way you always ran ahead of him, too impatient to wait for a boy that liked to take his time and enjoy the moments few and in between in which life didn’t have to go too fast for his comfort.

"Where are we going, Vi?"

"Shhh, more walking, less talking, 'Teyam. You need to learn to embrace the unknown." you chuckled as you stopped and waited for him to catch up, before taking him by the hand and pulling him until he stumbled softly onto you and you both fell, him on top of you, with a gasp that turned into loud giggles from your side and unflinching groans from his.

"Vi..."

"The mighty warriors have fallen, what will the clan do without us?"

He couldn't help his own exasperated chuckle and the roll of his eyes as he spoke.

"I don't think we're quite there yet."

You shrugged, sure of yourself as always, a trait Neteyam admired and tried to emulate, to little avail most days.

"Soon. Your dad's already talking about the Iknimaya. We're almost ready, Teyam. And if we do it soon, we'll be the youngest Na'vi to ever do it. You and me."

Before he could say anything, you reached for him until your lips made contact with his cheeks, and it didn't help his blush, that was now deep periwinkle and burning his skin from the inside out, like a fire that wanted to escape his body, too powerful to be contained inside it.

"And just like today, if you ever fall, I'll always be there to catch you. You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together."

Those words rang painfully in Neteyam's ears as his ikran dove at full speed towards the ground, as his open, stretched out hand was just outside of your reach, as he watched your body disappear through the trees, where it would inevitably crash, where it might be lost forever.

His heart, that was going as fast as his ikran was, watching your unconscious form collect deep, bleeding scars like Kiri collected pebbles in the woods with every hard branch your body made contact with, stopped racing in his chest as, by the grace of Eywa, your fall was broken by the plush, attenuating force of a torukspxam right before you hit the ground. Despite the fear, so deeply embedded in him, it was impossible to know if he would ever be able to fully detach himself from it again, a seed of hope bloomed in him that maybe he wasn't too late. That maybe, despite not being able to catch you, not now nor for the past 7 years in which he's left built up resentment prevent him from wanting to, maybe he wasn't too late.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He didn't wait for Seze to land before he jumped and approached you, pushing with all his might against the drag of his own heavy body that felt like it was experiencing the world in slow motion, until one of his hands found the back of your neck, propping you up gently and his other hand placed two fingers on your pulse point, trying to feel for a heartbeat that would either calm his own or stop it altogether.

"Please, Txepvi. Please..."

When the small, barely-felt flutters registered in him, he let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding and wasted no time in picking you up bridal-style and running back to his beautiful ikran. He had no time to dwell on the cracks deepening in his heart as he watched Seze bumping her snout on the side of Oare's lifeless face, sorrowful trills filling his ears, no time to dwell on the red liquid spilling out from multiple points in your body, dripping down his body and onto the ground, no time to stop yet another memory fighting to come to the forefront of his mind.

Fickle as you are That's exactly why I keep on running back 'Cause I'm brittle at the parts Where I wish I was strong

“I can walk, Teyam.”

Neteyam decided to ignore you as he grabbed you by the back of your knees and carried you back to the village, the gash in your leg large enough to have hit a couple veins and stain your thigh red, but not deep enough to make it life-threatening - still, Neteyam wouldn’t take any chances. Taking chances… that was the reason for keeping you so close to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck… that was the only reason.

“Can you, Vi? Isn’t that how this happened in the first place?” He chuckled, yelping a little when your fist made contact with his chest.

“It was an accident, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, you have a lot of accidents. And so close to the Iknimaya, too…” the shake of his head was mostly a teasing one, and although he tried to push away the nagging fear eating away at him, the one that told him you might not be able to take it with him, the one that screamed he’d be all alone once more, like he was before you, the one that urged bad memories and ugly scenarios into his mind, the one whose ugly head appeared as though from around the corner, staring intently to see if he’ll allow it to approach or banish it from existence. He couldn't decide yet.

He couldn’t do this without you. He needed you to be his first flight. Like you told him last year, and like it’s been solidified in his soul every day since, you and him were meant to rise and fall together. You were meant to fly together, to soar together. And that couldn’t happen if a tiny accident delayed your progress.

“Aw, it’s sweet you’re worried, although I think it’s mostly selfish and you’re just too scared to do the Iknimaya by yourself.”

The tinge in his cheeks is enough validation for you to start laughing at him, your head thrown so far back, he had to readjust his grip on you, so that you wouldn’t fall out of his arms.

“I knew it! You scaredy-cat. Why would you be scared, Teyam? Out of everyone here, everyone who’s gonna do this next, out of all of us, you are the best. You’ve always been the best.”

“No. You’re the best." As much wasn't up for discussion to him, and never will be. "And you promised.”

Your smile softened taking him in, the little pout he tried his best to conceal, the little scrunch of his nose, the way his ears twitched in slight annoyance and slight embarrassment… he couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought you found it… endearing?

"Just hang on, please. Shit. Please don't die. Please don't die."

And maybe when you need my help I like myself when it's over But later in the light, you go Dark and rogue, and I need closure

“Ma ‘ite, you have to be more careful.” The quiet, teasing admonishments of his grandmother do little do deter you, although you keep your eyes on the ground, slight embarrassment visible in the swish of your tail and the flatness of your ears.

“Srane, ma Tsa’hik. Ngaytxoa.”

The thick cream paste made its way from Mo’at’s fingers to your thigh, where it was spread in a hefty layer until the cut was no longer visible. You winced as it made contact with your skin, but said nothing as you accepted the help, and Neteyam saw his grandmother nod in approval at your bravery and inclination to suffer in silence, to not let anyone know you’re in pain at any point. Strong heart. Him, on the other hand, wished you were a bit more forthcoming, wished you didn’t feel the need to go through suffering alone. With a pat on your head and a soft smile, the Tsa’hik raised from her spot on the floor and turned her back on you both.

“You’re all done. It’s just a scratch, this time. I feel like I always have to have extra healing salve at the ready just for you. Now go, and be careful. Your Iknimaya is soon and my grandson would never forgive you if you missed it.”

“Neteyam, quick, put her on the mat. I need all the help I can get, now! Go get all the healers in training, we don’t have a lot of time.” The barking of orders did little to ease Neteyam’s fear, as he very rarely has ever seen his grandmother this agitated. After sending away the trainees, she turned to her grandson and took a deep breath, to calm herself. As serious her voice was, as rushed and violent the atmosphere around them, she still found the second to put her hand on her grandson’s chest, feeling the erratic, loud, trepidous heartbeat that refused to settle in him.

“Ma ‘itan, she’s very weak. I know you haven’t been close in a long time, but she is your intended mate. I need you to prepare yourself for the worst. Now go back to the battle.”

“No. I’m staying here.”

Neteyam didn’t get scared often. A whole lifetime of being raised like a soldier made his skin as thick as an 'angtsìk’s, and little ever managed to get under it. You did. You had unmatched prowess to make him feel so many things, too many things, all too intense, all too powerful, all too overbearing. When he was young, all of them were good and pure, all exciting and hopeful - love. It was love. Now, he feels anger and resentment, vengeful spite and deep arousal, all of which poison his mind and make him a version of himself he hates. Hate. That’s it. It’s all hate, isn’t it? So if it is… why are his limbs trembling and eyes watering, why is his mind jumbled with all these memories, why has the blood coursing through his veins been irreparably polluted with so much deep, earth-shattering terror and grief at the thought of losing you? Why was there a crater in his chest where his heart usually resided when he imagined his life without you in it?

Maybe it's because, for better or for worse, you were a constant in his life. From the second your presence made its way to him, you never left. There hasn't been a day that he hasn't seen you, that he hasn't been in your vicinity, not a day in which you haven't trained together, side by side, friends before, enemies after, but always together. Your words, that he drowned for years, came back like an undying echo ringing in his ears.

"You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together..."

I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That we don't lose, yeah, what's the use?

More and more, it felt like you had been right all along. He didn't think about it for so long, so desperate in his attempts to hurt you like you had hurt him, to sour your life like how you soiled his most precious memories, all of you and him, all of a childhood long left behind, all of fantasies he's harboured at the time that long dissipated from the version of future he used to dream about. Nothing about his life now was how he once envisioned, and that was because of you. He would never forgive you, but he couldn't let you go, either. No matter how the visions differed from his current reality, he couldn't shake you, couldn't let you go. Because despite it all, he couldn't part with the girl that used to be his partner in crime, his training buddy, his best friend, his first flight.

"Are you ready?"

Neteyam watched in awe as you confidently nodded at his father, smiling as if the hardest challenge an Omaticaya Na'vi would ever undertake, one that most people did when they were much, much older, was nothing to you, like it was just another yarik hunt that you've done a thousand times before. You turned to him and the smile you gave him dazzled him, left him breathless, not a good thing for the trek he was about to undertake, but still, not something he would could ever find it in himself to be upset about. You turned your attention momentarily to the bowl of paint in your hands before you brought a finger to his face, completing the pattern that was the same as the one you were adorning, one that he painted on you.

You both took turns saying goodbye to everyone, paying special attention to the little bundle in Neytiri's arms. Neteyam couldn't believe this was his little sister, and couldn't believe how attentive you were with her, how careful and loving. Some of his personality must be rubbing off on you, because to the Sully family's surprise, you didn't drop Tuk once in the year she's been born. In fact, you haven’t dropped anything in the last couple of months, including yourself from high places, which used to be one of your favourite past times, and Neteyam couldn't help blush at the thought that he was the reason you were being a little more careful.

As expected, the climb was the hardest thing Neteyam ever put his body through, and he felt suddenly grateful for all the years of torturous training that now felt like a peaceful breeze of the wind in an otherwise unyielding hurricane. Still, seeing you in front of him, not once complaining, not in front of the multiple 15 to 19 year olds that were also taking their rite of passage today, not in front of your Olo'eyktan, made him push through, too. If you could do it, so could he. Because you would do it, so would he.

The rookery was hidden behind a waterfall, and Neteyam watched as one by one, the few Na'vi joining you both either failed or succeeded, and with each attempt, his fear grew stronger, his mind more restless. Eventually, it was his turn, and with a deep breath, he started walking towards the slippery ledge that would lead him to his fate. A hand on his chest not only stopped him in his tracks, but also stopped his heart momentarily, just momentarily, because before he knew it, it started booming again with enough intensity to dizzy him.

"Ma tsantu... you got this. Remember, you and I, we're meant t-"

"-to fall and rise together, I know." you smile, your fingers smoothing the deep frown that gave Neteyam a headache without even realising and he sighed, trying to calm his mind and soul, focusing on you and only you.

"Exactly. So you can't fall, because if you do, I'll have to follow you... and I don't intend to fall yet, Teyam. Not yet."

"How did this happen?"

"Oare... got shot. She's dead. She... fell. I couldn't catch her." I couldn't catch her...

Neteyam couldn't bear to look at the way his grandmother was ripping you apart, although he knew it was all with the purpose of putting you back together again. Her trainees, all girls he knew, some girls he knew more intimately than others, all flocked around you, with wet cloths and trays of balms and powders, of plants and tinctures, and it all hurt, the guilt of knowing to some extent, to a large extent, this was all his fault. This ongoing war between you, never-ending and harrowing, reached a nadir that resulted in the death of your ikran, in your accident, and indirectly, because of your removal and his from the battlefield, might result in the deaths of good na'vi men and women, all of whom had families and a life, and a future they would be robbed of.

Neteyam couldn't leave you and go back. If he did, he knew that much like you, he wouldn't be able to focus enough to matter, and the thought of his mother, of his father, losing one more loved one was too much to bear. Neteyam couldn't leave you, but he couldn't stay here either. It hurt, being here, watching flashes of the girl he hates intertwined with the girl he loved more than anything else in the world, it hurt, having to deal with feelings he buried deep down and memories that came to him like summer rain, uninterrupted and warm, but powerful enough to flood and leave damage their wake.

With one last look at your unconscious form, Neteyam left the village on the back of his Ikran, knowing there was one thing he needed to do, he had to do. His mind was overcome with agonising sorrow as Seze's mourning was felt through his entire being, and the full weight of what transpired came crashing down on him like a tidal wave he could do little to stop, but had to power through, hoping that by the end there was something left of his heart to go on. Oare, much like Seze, has been in his life every day for the last 7 years, and he loved her. She was playful and sweet, and she always played with him when he snuck out at night to give her pets and treats, refusing to let your declining relationship affect their bond. Oare was Seze's best friend, her companion and life partner, and Neteyam knew her death would affect his ikran for a long time, perhaps forever.

With a squeal that matched the banshee, Neteyam watched from the air, on the back of his new mount, his new friend, his new spirit sister, as you made Tsaheylu, and his heart, that has been barely beating in anxious fear, felt finally awake again.

"Ftang! Tam tam, tsìltsan 'eve." your smile was wide and relieved as your eyes searched the sky until they found his, and he swore he never knew it was possible to love someone so much, to feel so connected to a soul, so much so it felt like he could hear you, your heartbeat and your mind, like tsaheylu would have been redundant because he knew. He just knew.

"I did it, Teyam!"

"Yes, you did, Vi! Come, first flight seals the bond."

That day was Neteyam's happiest day. That memory is still something that he cherishes deeply, that he'll never be able to shake, that haunts him at night, that shakes his resolve whenever he's thinking of a new way to make you pay. That memory is still untarnished in his mind, and it will always remain so, especially today, as he's fastening Oare's lifeless form onto Seze, petting her one last time, allowing the tears he's been stubbornly pushing back this entire day to finally fall from his cheeks onto her face, almost like she was the one crying, one last time.

"I'm sorry, girl. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry that I beat you... again. You're gonna have to do much better than this to beat me, Teyam."

The floating rock you landed on, hours after you finished your Iknimaya, was alit with biofluorescence, the colours reflecting in your eyes and on your shiny skin, covered in a light layer of sweat from the flight.

"Give me a break, Vi. It's my first time doing this."

"Yeah, cause I've been doing it for ages." you say, chuckling and rolling your eyes. You prop your body on your elbows and point to the two banshees playing in the air with each other, a mass of ravelling green and purple, so beautiful, and so, so free.

"I can't take all the credit. She did most of the work. I love her already, Teyam. Do you have a name in mind for yours?"

Neteyam didn't have to think about it too much. Ever since he's first found out about the Iknimaya, a story told to him by his mother consolidated a name in his memory that he's never been able to forget.

"Seze. Like my mother's ikran that bravely gave her life in the war against the Sky People."

"That's pretty. And fitting. She's a beautiful flower."

"What about you?"

"Oare."

"Why?"

"I used to look at the moons every night and think I'm so far away from this, from my destiny, from who I've always known I was meant to be, the Iknimaya might as well have been the moon - unreachable, untouchable, a world away. And now, I'm here, with you, way past curfew, and we're gonna get in so much trouble and I couldn't care less because I did it, I reached the moon. And I did it with the only person I ever wanted to. So.. Oare."

"Thank you, Teyam. I learnt a lot from you in these years. Ever since I met you, I knew you were special. And I think, even without realising, I wanted to be more like you. I've looked up to you for so long, I don't even remember my life before the Sullys took me in. If I'm here today, it's because of you. You helped me become more temperate and understand the weight of my talent and my power, and that I have a responsibility to the clan, that this is bigger than me, and my life."

Neteyam was taken aback at your words. You were never this forthcoming with your feelings normally, but he couldn't say he wasn't happy about it. He was so happy.

You smiled softly, and put your head on his chest, just watching the dance of the banshees, and he prayed that this moment would never end.

"I guess we really are meant to be together then, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess we are."

Neteyam placed Oare in the village, where the elders and Tsa'hik would be able to perform Eywa's funeral rituals, before making his way back to the tent. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him as he was met with your drowsy, blood-shot eyes, so much sadness in them, it broke him. They were so different then the ones that have haunted Neteyam's mind today, so devoid of the innocence and love he remembered, so filled with anger and spite and hurt, so much like his own, such a bitter reminder that the past was only that, the past, and there was nothing left of you, or of him, of the love you shared and the future he envisioned. With one last memory, Neteyam felt the walls surrounding his heart, thick and unflinching, growing harder with every year since the Iknimaya, fortify yet again, as one last memory emerged uninvited and reminded him of why, despite your history, Neteyam would never look at you the same way again.

And I know whatever this is ain't love So I'm goin' I'm gonna let you go, let you go

"I'm going to go back to my tent. I had too much of a good day to spoil it by Jake yelling at me for 2 hours straight. I'd rather save the pleasure for tomorrow."

"That's so unfair, why do I have to suffer by myself?"

A shrug was all the answer you felt was necessary to give him, and he felt his heart drop at the notion of going to his family's tent so late, so far past curfew, without your much more argumentative presence, that his father could never resist. He walked cautiously, silently, praying that his family would be asleep so he could just sneak in and postpone the yelling until tomorrow. To his surprise, he heard whispered voices coming from right outside the tent, whispers he quickly recognised as his father and grandmother's.

"... that it should be her. She should be the next Olo'eykte. That she is the most deserving of it, has been since she was young. It took a long time to see it for myself, but... I don't know. Maybe he.."

...Olo'eykte? You? Neteyam couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe how quickly his father was willing to replace him, how quickly he considered you better and more worthy of the title than his own son, than the rightful heir. You were both 12, for Eywa's sake. How could a decision be made so early? Neteyam felt tears gather in his eyes, the betrayal's sting more painful than a kali'weya's, and yet, still, a part of him knew this already. A part of him couldn't find it in him to be upset, because you were better. And you deserved to lead, you deserved to fulfil your destiny, that was made for greatness, made for the songs and the ballads, made for history.

"It's Neteyam's birthright, Jakesulli. It wouldn't be right, no matter how worthy the girl is. What about a mateship? They have been inseparable for years anyhow."

"Ah, she would never want to be Tsa'hik. And she wouldn't be good at it anyway. Besides..." the silence felt like it dragged on forever, and he clung on to it, afraid of what was waiting for him at the end of it.

"I mentioned it to her. She said she... doesn't want to mate with Neteyam. That she couldn't ever love him the way a mate would. She was... very adamant about it."

As Neteyam looked into your eyes, those words forever embedded in his psyche, playing in his ears like a cacophony of sounds that rattled him every time he saw you, even so many years later, solidified in him by all the times you continued to hurt him, continued flaunting your relationships and skills to him, your connection and closeness to his own family, that sometimes he felt like he didn't belong in anymore, like he was the adoptive one... he was reminded that every time, it hurt, every day, it broke him further, and those eyes that were once his guidepost and the reason he got up in the morning, were now empty and bleak, and enough to make anger bubble in his soul once more, until it drowned everything else, until it was all that was left.

I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That we don't lose, yeah what's the use? I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That I can win this stupid thing called love

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch @musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt

#andra you are amazing #and so talented

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ticklish-touch · 2 years ago

Photo

I nearly forgot to introduce my newest baby here, for shame

I've really been wanting to make a Dream entity companion to Kenni; a counterpart to Roscoe in a way. And then I recently had the god-brain idea to combine two of my longest-lasting hyperfixations: Dragons and jesters/clowns. In a nutshell: Balthazar (aka Balthy or Bubbles) manifested in the dreams of children back in medieval times, but he took more of a liking to visiting adults. He encourages people to get in touch with their inner whimsy, reminding them that there is no shame in enjoying things like fantasy, animation and fiction. He has magic bubbles that can create a variety of effects - including creating ticklish bursts when popping on impact~ He operates a bit like a Fae, in that he will tempt people into being whisked away into the Dream realm forever. But if they adamantly refuse, he’ll reluctantly back off - but not before giving them a dream they’ll never forget~!

His full bio can be read below!

Name: Balthazar (aka Balthy, or Bubbles) Race: Dream denizen (aka Dreamie, a term coined by my friend https://milkblankets.tumblr.com/ ) Age: At least 1000; Has been around since Medieval Europe Pronouns: He/They Height: 6'8" in humanoid form; anywhere from 8ft to 20ft tall in dragon form Sexuality: Pansexual, Demisexual/Demiromantic Personality: Very enthusiastic, whimsical and easily entertained. Wears his emotions on his sleeve. Not 'unhinged' per se, but definitely not all there either. Not as naive as he lets on. Can be surprisingly lewd and sarcastic. Has a little bit of toxic-positivity; He understands that negative emotions like anger & sorrow are important for people to process, and is happy to be a shoulder to lean on. But he will try to cheer someone up at any and all costs. Although he is prideful and dislikes admitting when he is in the wrong, he's compassionate and sincere and never wants peoples' feelings to be hurt by his games. Likes: Nature, parties & festivals, performing, animated media, laughter & making people laugh, going on adventures Dislikes: Horror, Nightmares, media that makes clowns/jesters look evil & villainous, human cities, nonfiction media, dragon hunters, people who lack imagination, stifling of creativity, politics, bigotry As a Ler: Will relentlessly tease someone when he finds out they're ticklish, cooing and doting on them and being a huge playful goofball. He gets very flustered if it turns out his playmate has a full-blown tickle kink, but will still be happy to satiate them (and continue being a devious tease) as long as they understand that he has no real interest in escalating to sex. As a lee: Adores being tickled, he loves to laugh & he thinks it feels nice. Can be a bit of a glutton for punishment. If he's tickled too long or intensely, though, he will burst into bubbles and have to reform. Ticklish spots: It takes a bit rougher/firmer tickling to really get him going because of his scaly body, but feathers are very effective on his neck, ear frills, nose and palms. His neck, belly/underbelly scales, clawed toes & paw-pads are his worst spots. Powers, abilities: • Like many other powerful Dream entities, he can read minds/emotions and conjur up fantastical dream environments for his playmates to explore. • His main ability is the power to create & manifest bubbles. His bubbles can create a variety of effects when they pop; They can give off colorful magic light displays, sweet aromas, pleasing melodies, and soporifc dream mist that heightens peoples' endorphin levels and lulls them to sleep. • These bubbles are edible & taste like cotton candy. • When he teleports, he disappears & reappears in a flurry of bubbles. • He doesn't need his bubble-wings to fly, they're purely for aesthetic. He can pop them and re-summon them at any point. • His bubbles can also act as self-defense magic. They never cause true harm; they can let off loud disorienting sounds (usually clown horns or cymbal crashes), flashes of light, or temporarily make their target dizzy. • They can temporarily become firmer and more elastic to make people bounce off of them. Other: • He smells like bubble gum. • He sneezes bubbles. Don't eat his nose bubbles, you'll gross him out. • When he cries, his tears will defy gravity and will sometimes form into bubbles. • His bells give off a very soft, melodic ring, a lot like handbells or Chinese worry balls. • His voiceclaim is somewhere between Gene Wilder (Willy Wonka) and Bing Bong from Inside-Out. • His vocalizations in dragon form are very reminiscent of an iguanodon or parasaur; he primarily communicates in trills, honks and bellows. But can also let out actual honking sounds, like a clown/car/brass horn. • His tongue curls/uncurls like a party horn and can make a sound like one. • His laughter in dragon form sounds eerily similar to Kefka. • He has a very pretty, booming operatic singing voice and he loves using it to belt out Disney classics. • He is very acrobatic. But can also be a klutz. Background: Balthazar first manifested in the early Medieval era, when court jesters were first introduced and tales of knights and dragons were prevalent. At first, he visited the dreams of children who desired to go on grandiose adventures, and wanted to provide a companion for them and show them that dragons weren't so scary. Over the next few decades, he grew disappointed in humans' tendencies to push aside their enjoyment of all things deemed "childish" or fantastical once they grew up. Because of this, he started to find more satisfaction in visiting the dreams of adults, helping to reawaken their sense of wonder and whimsy. However, during this time, Balthy saw that he could bring people everlasting joy and peace, and elevate them to the Astral plane, by making them live out fantastical dream scenarios...And not letting them wake up. And, little by little, he started to coax people who were down on their luck and feeling trapped in unfortunate life circumstances into joining him in the Dream realm forever. He was eventually confronted by the feathery deity Kenisime, who showed him the mourning friends and loved ones of those he claimed as victims, and explained that instead of ending their physical lives, he could instead encourage them to improve their lives. Balthy felt a heavy wave of guilt; he truly thought he was helping people who were suffering. However, part of him still believes that a soul that is free to wander the vastness of the Astral dimension is far happier than one that is suffocated by the harsh reality of life. So he still targets people with heavy depression, maladaptive imagination/daydreaming habits, and life circumstances in which they feel they cannot express themselves. He'll offer them the chance to live in the Dream realm, and he can be very tempting in his offers; but if they refuse, he will back off; and instead, will just give them a dream that they will not soon forget~ Although literature and stage plays existed for centuries, the modern age of animated media helped Balthy's strength grow exponentially and helped restore his faith in humanity that they can still have plenty of creative outlets, and is very happy that the whole world is now sharing in various means of creative content. At first, he refused Kenni's offers to meet Ragaeli and Roscoe due to his bias against Nightmares. But he adored Roscoe the moment he met him, and although he still finds Rags very unnerving and a bit much to deal with, he appreciates that the Nightmare's desire to help humanity (and tickle them to pieces) aligns with his own.

#OC #original character #character bio #character profile #OC bio #OC profile #dragon #jester #clown #whimsical #dragon OC #artoftt

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actualsaii · 4 years ago

Text

the bet

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15k

Genre: smut, comedy, university AU

Summary: You lost a bet and now it’s time to face the consequences. Aka when you lose and now you have to get a tattoo.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140211

I'm reposting this one in case it's more comfortable for the readers to use tumblr instead of AO3 :)

“I can’t believe they made me do it,” you murmured under your nose as you passed the street, knowing that your friends still sat in the car parked in the lot across the street with eyes pinned on your nervous figure. The closer you got to the two-story building, the stronger the crippling anxiety inside of you grew, causing your inners to shake under the heavy consequences of your Thursday night’s escapade that culminated into your worst nightmare.

Yes, everything started two nights ago in a shabby university bar that you grew so fond of during the past two years of your studies. It was always packed whether it was a school night or not, full of freshmen and also seniors, from time to time even postgraduate students that seemed to be only a myth to you as you’ve almost never met one outside the classes. However, neither of that mattered that night as you successfully finished your last exam and decided to hit the streets with your two best friends that carefully prepared the night to its tiniest details. Conspiracy was the first word that popped in your mind as the night continued to unfold her secrets, although it was quickly erased with the fifth shot of tequila after which you simply found yourself walking straight to the bar with one and only thing your friends managed to set your mind on.

The hot bartender, also a member of mythical postgraduate group, was your main target even though he was currently busy with lining the glasses of RedBull next to each other while smaller shot cups full of golden liquid, you somewhere in the back of your mind recalled was probably Jägermeister, balanced on the tips of the bigger glasses under. Each of his move was precise, yet you knew this wasn’t the first Jäger-train he had built. The man worked at this bar ever since you could remember - and you also recalled the moment he stepped into your first class of Forensic psychology, looking completely different than you saw him the previous night (which was your first time visiting the bar when you were a freshman) in the club. Just then one of your friends told you he was a postgraduate student who worked at the bar and also taught some classes because of his final research paper. And now he was here again, his longish black hair carefully slicked back, exposing the undercut that made him look like a bad boy. His eyes momentarily flickered up from his work and once they laid on you, smirk flashed through his features and he straightened his posture, done with what he was doing.

“Look who we have here on a school night. Isn’t it a little bit too late for you to be out, ___?” he tilted his head to the side, never allowing the smile to disappear from his handsome features. He was famous for many things, but the nickname he used really preceded his name - Worldwide Handsome.

“Kim Seokjin, nice and friendly as always. Not that it should concern you, but I’m successfully done with all of my exams; so tonight, I’m celebrating. And I’m also on mission,” you leaned closer to him, almost knocking the train made of multiple glasses of alcohol, however you couldn’t care less. There was only one thing on your mind - and you know your friends were watching you somewhere from the booth in the back of the bar. At least they tried because your mind wasn’t the only one clouded by alcohol and a stupid bet you nodded to extremely fast and without giving it a thought or two first.

“So, mission it is tonight. Anyway, congratulations to wrapping up the term. Now, is there something I can do for you? Because, as you can see, it’s Thursday night, and the place is already bursting. Also, my masterpiece is ready for the show,” he said, reaching for the empty shot cup, ready to put the train on move. Your eyes flickered from his to the said masterpiece and you chuckled. Of course, there was something he could do for you but you didn’t want to burst it out loud just like that, not when the place was crowded and you felt countless eyes pinned on you because you occupied the spot by the bar for longer than acceptable.

But then again, you were on the mission and that was more important than some impatient freshmen that expected to put their hands on one of the glasses of Jägerbomb Seokjin has just put on the move. He gently nudged the first shot sitting on the rim of the glass and watched with his eyes full of excitement how the following shot cups fell down like a domino. People around you cheered loudly and suddenly they started grabbing glasses one after another until there was just one left. In a moment you decided to snatch it for yourself, your fingers met with another long and slender ones, covered in black ink and shiny silver rings. Looking up, you realized the crowd of people was gone, scattered all over the place and dance floor while only a few people remained lingering around the bar area. And the man, who was about to steal the drink you set your eyes on, was now staring at you with a smirk that mirrored in his deep and dark eyes. Long strands of his wavy blonde hair fell into his face but he quickly pushed them back, yet he took an advantage of the moment of surprise and snatched the drink before you had enough time to say something.

“Too late, love,” he shrugged and quickly disappeared in the crowd of people, only his blonde hair shining like a beacon, eventually disappearing as well. You turned to Seokjin with lips formed in a shape of a small ‘o’, still processing what has just happened. The bartender smirked and started lining another train of glasses on the surface of the bar, this time with a different type of drink on his mind.

“What was that? Who was that guy?” you asked, momentarily confused but you quickly shook it off your shoulders like an invisible layer of dust. You had to succeed with your mission, some blonde guy stealing the drink you wanted for yourself was out of the question at the moment.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, no one you should care about. Now, what can I offer you, ___? Or are you going to just levitate around until you are brave enough to spill the tea? Because one of your friends is peeking from the booth like a chicken hidden in the bush. What is it that you want?” with those words, he leaned closer over the bar surface and you felt his hot breath hitting your face. And even though your senses were already covered by the heavy sheet made out of tequila and god knew what else, you still felt cigarettes and scotch in his breath, the favorite combination of his when he was working.

You chewed on your lower lip while the wheels in the back of your mind spun like crazy, contemplating whether to come out with your plan or just kept playing your little game of a spy on the mission - even though Kim Seokjin could see straight through you as if you were a thin piece of a transparent paper. So, with a heavy sigh, you smashed your palms against the bar in a dramatic gesture, looking him straight into his eyes. If someone was looking at you, and you were sure there was at least one person watching you besides your friends, they must have thought you were some kind of Seokjin’s crazy fangirl. Which wouldn’t be surprising since the man was quite famous at the university.

“I need Jimin’s number.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious, Seokjin. I need Jimin’s number otherwise I’m in a very big trouble. You have to save my ass,” you basically begged him, now almost laying on the bar as you leaned closer to him. The black-haired bartender only shook his head no and gave you a look somewhere between ‘I like you, you are my friend, but I can’t help you’ and ‘someone please just kill me already before I strangle this girl first’.

“I’m sorry but if you want Jimin number, you have to ask yourself. And since I know the number is not for you, you should tell your friend to man the hell up and ask him herself. He doesn’t bite, you know. Well, at least I think he doesn’t,” he shook his head again and handed you a shot of tequila he managed to pour you while he was talking. Small pout formed on your lips and you tried really hard to pull out the most innocent look on your face, but such a witchcraft had none effect on Kim Seokjin.

“You don’t understand - I promised my friend I would get the number for her. We placed a bet and if I lose… Seokjin, I can’t lose! Of my fucking god, I can’t lose this one. That would be the end of me.”

Something in his face shifted and now he looked genuinely interested in your little mission. A tiny spark of hope lit up in your chest when his eyes softened and he turned to you again.

“What’s the bet about?”

You felt the heat creeping into your cheeks each second of standing by the bar, your eyes now pinned on your hands still placed on its surface. The shot laid untouched in front of you even though you felt your mouth watering just by watching it. And although the level of alcohol in your bloodstream was already dangerously high, you reached out for it and downed the shot in one gulp. Just in case you needed some more courage.

“If I don’t get Jimin’s number tonight, I will have to get a tattoo by the end of the week. So, please, you have to save my ass, Seokjin. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want that tattoo, I’ve wanted it for some time already, but I’m still not sure and—“

“You got to be kidding me, ___. This is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,” the almost caring look in his face was quickly replaced by his notorious smug smirk and you knew you were fucked for the night. There was no way he was about to give you Jimin’s number, and walking around the bar, asking random strangers for Park Jimin’s number was out of question.

“I will never forget your betrayal, Kim Seokjin. I will never forget how you turned your back on me. And if you come to me asking for help, I will repay you the same,” your index finger touched his chest and while you were sure you looked dangerous and almost and vengeful, Seokjin just chuckled and sent you one of his precious flying kisses.

“Duly noted, sweetheart. Don’t forget to send me a photo of your new tattoo. I will be waiting.”

And just like that, with his words still echoing through your mind, you showed him your tongue and waltzed back to the table where your friends were sitting.

Of course, without Park Jimin’s number.

And the threat of getting a tattoo dangerously hanging above your head.

“I can’t believe they made me do it.”

It was Saturday morning and the betrayal of Kim Seokjin and the following cheering sounds of your friends still rang through your mind like an annoying sound of the alarm clock set on the phone. You weren’t about to get away with new pledges and promises of getting Park Jimin’s number because your friends simply weren’t about to let you. No, a deal was a deal and now that you lost the bet, you had to get that tattoo from the artist in a parlor downtown. It was a new one and judging by what Sunmi told you a few days ago, they only opened the salon three months ago. However, the number of followers on social network sites grew higher and higher each day so you and your friends agreed it was a good place to get your first tattoo.

Although you weren’t so sure now that you were crossing the street with a paper cup of coffee in your hands. It was an olive branch from your friends when they picked you up at the dorms early in the morning, proposing the breakfast at your favorite café near the university’s main campus. At least something to ease your mind before taking such a huge step forward.

You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder one last time, checking if those two creatures that came straight from the hell still sat in the car parked in the lot. And of course, they were still there, sending you thumbs up as if to give you a courage to step inside and get that goddamn tattoo. Thinking about that, it was all your fault because you were talking about getting one for a while, so it was only natural your friends took advantage of your big mouth and used it as a weapon against you. Although, you had to admit the smoothness they turned the bet into.

“Why am I even friends with you?” you muttered under your nose and took a sip of the coffee before you reached for the doorknob and pressed it, opening the door with a sound of ring bell accompanying your gesture. You peeked inside - and your inners immediately turned upside down with the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes. Not to mention you almost dropped the paper cup with coffee.

The studio itself looked neat and clean, shiny almost as each piece of furniture and accessory seemed brand new. Right opposite the front door sat a massive black desk with an office chair and a laptop placed on the top. But besides the PC, there was a small plant and an opened sketchbook with a picture you couldn’t see properly because you stood too far away. Not that you wanted to peek inside, not really. The wall behind the table was pitch black with a few modern art pieces and shelves full of books standing there. The remaining three walls were covered in various pieces of paper showing different tattoo motives that were apparently free for customers to choose. But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of your lungs and almost made you change your decision with backing the hell out of the studio, no. What made you almost squeal were two men half hidden behind the paravan that covered the tattooing area from the common area with two black leather sofas and a small coffee table. Even though you couldn’t see their faces properly, you exactly knew who they were. And the fact that one of them was indirectly responsible for you getting in this quite unfortunate situation made your blood boil.

“Park Jimin?”

Both of them immediately snapped in your direction while the said man rolled down his shirt and patted the blonde’s shoulder with a grateful smile curling the corners of his lips up. The blonde one only nodded but once his eyes met yours, there was something wicked mirroring behind his irises - and you were quickly reminded of the Thursday’s night and the talk you had with Seokjin after he successfully made the Jäger-train work. The blonde man was the one who stole your drink. The one who ever so shamelessly snatched it right out of your hands and walked away as if nothing had happened. You clearly remembered the wave of drunken rage that almost swept you off your feet the night it happened - the drink was supposed to be yours, not his. Either way, that fact only added to the moment of surprise you went through the second you realized the tattoo artist was no one else but the blonde thief with arms covered in ink.

“Oh, hi? You are the one from Seokjin’s Forensic Psychology class, right? ___? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked and at that moment, you felt like the dumbest dumbass walking the planet earth. What were you doing here? Oh, yes. The lost bet and the punishment you had to accept according to the terms of the deal. However, that wasn’t something you could come clean about since it would make you look like an… idiot. Complete idiot. So, instead of giving him an answer, your eyes flickered to the direction of the blonde tattoo artists who was now in the process of getting rid of the black latex gloves, throwing them into a trash bin. And as if he felt the weight of your eyes heaving him down, he looked at you with a slight hint of smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. He too seemed to be interested in your answer.

“Yep, that’s me. And to answer your question - I’m here to get a tattoo. I guess that’s what tattoo salons are for?” you tilted your head to the side and gave both males your best smile without being nervous about it.

“Do you have an appointment?” the blonde asked and approached the table where the sketchbook and other notebooks laid. As soon as his question sunk in the air filling the room, you cleared your throat and realized that, perhaps, you should have called beforehand, although this whole situation came into an existence during your Thursday night’s pre-game when you were already intoxicated and so determined to get Jimin’s number no matter what consequences might come out in case you simply failed.

Exactly like you did.

And it brought you here.

Silence fell over the room and for a split second, your brain came up with an idea of asking Jimin for his number and immediately backing away from the previous plan, but then, on the other hand, you weren’t about to chicken out of your punishment. You were too proud to do so.

“No, I don’t think so,” you smiled again, wishing for the mother earth to swallow you and spit you out on the other side of the world since the weight of the look in their eyes grew heavier and heavier each second that passed. They must have thought you were an idiot waltzing into a tattoo salon without an appointment on Saturday morning. Because who would have done that? No one but a psychology student who lost the bet and was now facing its consequences.

“Well, then I guess I will just leave you two alone. Lucky you, Jungkook was supposed to have a day off since it’s Saturday, but as I know him, he wouldn’t say no to a nice young lady, would he?” Jimin smirked and before Jungkook had the opportunity to throw the notebook in his direction, the brown-haired guy grabbed his jacket and disappeared from the salon at the speed of light.

And that made you feel bit anxious because right at the moment, it was just you and the tattoo artist Jungkook who managed to steal your drink, which, for some reason, couldn’t let you cold. The small and tiny voice in the back of your mind told you he must have been a member of the mythical postgraduate students’ group as well, but you weren’t stupid to voice your question out loud. You were just frozen in one place with lips forming a shape of a small ‘o’, unable to put together a rather coherent sentence to explain how you got into such a situation. Not that he should know each detail, but then again, he was the artist and according to Jimin’s words, he was supposed to have a day off until you came, and, well, obviously changed his plans.

Again, according to Jimin’s words.

“If you have a day off, I can come another time. Or I can book an appointment and—“

“It’s ____, right? I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you. Anyway, it’s fine. Jimin wasn’t on my list either when he came banging on the door early in the morning. One more tattoo wouldn’t kill me, really. I don’t have much to do, anyway,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and it genuinely surprised you how quickly he agreed on something that wasn’t on his schedule, therefore wasn’t supposed to happen. Honestly, you expected him to throw you out of the salon with the same sassy smirk and comment he addressed you with the night you met him at the bar. But nothing like that happened and you suddenly felt the inner storm gaining the momentum, throwing you off balance easily. And maybe, that was the reason you kept standing in one spot with lips still half-parted, staring at the young man standing in front of you with a smile plastered over his features. The smile first seemed to be innocent, reaching his eyes but mirroring something not so innocent any longer as the question slipped his lips. “Did you have fun with your friends?”

Wheezing noise came out of you and he raised his brows in unspoken question.

“I’d rather not talk about that night, really,” you rolled your eyes and bit on your inner cheek as the memory of the night came to you as a wrecking ball.

“Had too much to drink? You should be glad I managed to put my hands on the drink before you did then,” his innocent smile quickly turned into a smug one, reminding you of the way Seokjin basically laughed in your face when he found out about the bet. And since the bartender seemed to be familiar with the blonde tattoo artists, there was this one certain question that popped on your mind like a red light. Was it possible Seokjin told Jungkook about the bet? Did he out you?

No, Seokjin wouldn’t do that. He might have not helped you with getting Jimin’s number, but he certainly wouldn’t do something like blabbering about the bet to his friends who had nothing to do with that. Until now.

“About that - it was my drink, I had my eyes on that first,” you murmured but couldn’t help when the smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Fighting about something so trivial like a drink wasn’t really your thing, yet, for some reason you felt like this business needed to be taken care of.

“Then you should have been faster, love. Now, tell me about that tattoo of yours you want to get. Do you have something on your mind or am I free to come up with a design?” he asked, quickly shifting into his artist mode. He wasn’t really curious about the reason you ended up in his studio, nor he blamed you for barging in like Jimin did in the morning. He simply wanted to start to work, that was all. And you had to admit, it once again stole the wind from under your wings and left you standing there frozen in one place with lips parted but no words leaving them. A wave of admiration towards the young man that dedicated his free time to grace the skin of other people woke up inside of you and brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.

As the question settled in, your mind was suddenly blank like a fresh canvas, not a simple idea crossing it. Your loss of words made him chuckle before he turned to his table and reached for yet another sketchbook laying there. The sound of pages flipping filled the room, accompanied by Jungkook’s soft humming until he found what he was looking for.

“What do you think about this? It’s a free design I made a few days ago but I was too busy to put in on the wall. It looks like something that might suit you. Of course, it’s just my opinion,” with those words he handed you the sketchbook opened on a page with the design he had on mind for you. And you had to admit, it was beautiful. A simple line of flowers tangled together, nothing too exaggerating, quite the right opposite. However, you couldn’t quite grasp the concept of place where he wanted to put it.

“It looks really beautiful, and now I will probably sound too stupid, but where do you want to put it?” you asked, genuinely interested in his answer. Of course, he must have had an idea of where to place it once he was working on it. Your question brought a smile to his face as he came closer and gently grabbed the sketchbook from your hands. He put it back on the table while his right hand remained cuffing your left wrist.

“Here, around your wrist like a bracelet while the rest of the tattoo will continue to the back of your hand. Exactly here,” his fingers traced a delicate way from your wrist to the back of your hand, leaving a burning trace behind. Breath almost hitched in your throat when you realized how close he got to you without you realizing it, however, you quickly collected yourself and fixed your posture, looking into his dark eyes. “It’s your first tattoo and I believe I don’t have to tell you how important it is for you to choose the right place. Consider this a friendly opinion of mine. It would really suit you, ___.”

Just as he finished his little speech, his touch left your hand, yet the burning sensation remained lingering over the surface of your skin.

“That sounds like a really lovely idea,” you murmured as you brought your hand closer to your face, examining the place he traced with his fingers just seconds ago. As much as you weren’t excited about the idea of getting a tattoo this fast, although you’ve always wanted one, you started changing your mind in a snap of fingers. And whether it was the picture you really liked or Jungkook’s aura that was only hard to resist, you didn’t know. What you were sure about was the one and only thing - you weren’t about to back away from this decision. Not anymore.

You were surprised by yourself and the sudden discovery you missed the way Jungkook chuckled and shook his head over your strange behavior.

“Are you sure about that? Because I don’t really want you to chase me down the university halls in case you don’t like it anymore, you know? Tattoo is mostly a permanent thing and let me tell you, it’s really painful if you want to get rid of that. Not to mention it’s almost twice as expensive. Think about it, love,” it almost sounded like he tried to change your mind, and honestly, you felt like a child getting a lecture. Which you didn’t like at all.

“Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here in the first place if I wasn’t. I’ve wanted a tattoo for a very long time, I just didn’t give it a proper thought - as of what to get and where to place it. I was hoping that since you are a pro—you could help me out with that. Which you did, so…” you shrugged, giving him a look full of confidence. At least, you hoped you did. And as to seal your words, you took a step closer to him with a smile gracing your features. “So, can we do it today?”

Smirk flashed through his features and mirrored in his eyes.

“Of course, love.”

Jungkook put everything into motion rather smoothly and you had to admire the way he basically danced around the salon while he prepared everything he was about to need for your tattoo. From time to time, your eyes flickered to the already prepared design laying on the small table near the tattooing chair you were aiming for. Excitement rushed through your bloodstream just when you imagined the art on your hand. Funny, how everything changed in a snap of fingers and your annoyed mood was quickly replaced by the excitement in the form of butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” he asked with his back turned to you as he did some last preparations for your tattoo.

“Not at all. It’s your place, play whatever you want,” you shook your head and shrugged down the leather jacket you were wearing. The room was hot and you shouldn’t be wearing it anyway, so you took it off and climbed into the chair, waiting rather impatiently for the blonde artist to be done with his little preparations. The soft tunes of hip-hop music filled the air and you had to smile. For some reason, even though you didn’t know him at all, the music suited Jungkook very much. It went along the aura his persona gave off, almost hand in hand.

“What is that? I’ve never heard this song,” you asked curiously as you made yourself comfortable in the chair, leaning against the leather surface with the butterflies still playing the game of catch in your stomach. Have you really been that excited about getting that goddamn tattoo? Or was Jeon Jungkook responsible for the weird excitement you haven’t seen coming once you stepped out of your friend’s car? Such questions popped in your mind and you had to sigh in defeat as you didn’t have a single answer.

The way your question captured his attention and the way he turned to you with eyes sliding up and down your body in the tattooing chair certainly didn’t help to calm the storm inside of you.

“Do you know Jung Hoseok? He is one of the postgraduates, but other than studying, he likes to work on music. This is one of the songs he released within his mixtape a few weeks ago. It’s only on SoundCloud, so I don’t blame you for now knowing it, but you should give it a try. He is really good,” Jungkook smiled as he was apparently praising one of his good friends, reaching for the box of latex gloves to put a clean pair on. The gesture itself told you he was ready to start working on your design.

“Not only you are a mythical group everyone is talking about, but it seems like all of you have that hidden side no one knows about - well, besides Seokjin. Everyone knows he is the most handsome bartender. I guess he is the reason why the bar is still so packed. But hey, I will give that mixtape a shot. It sounds catchy,” you wondered out loud without giving your words a thought or two. Yet, it has already escaped your mouth and you couldn’t do anything about it. And when Jungkook chuckled, you only hoped he didn’t think you were a complete weirdo.

“Is that so? I’ve never heard anyone calling us a mythical group but I can see the point. It’s just we are always busy with the university and when there’s a slight chance to do whatever else than the research for doctoral thesis, we simply do what we love to do - and it differs from person to person. For me, it’s the salon and the art of tattoo. Although it mostly belongs to my older brother, every time I’m free from uni, I spend my time here,” he was open with you and it almost made your heart melt because even though he didn’t know you properly, he talked to you about the daily basis of his life as if you two were old friends. Plus, his words convinced you he didn’t think of you as a weirdo, which was definitely a very good sign. “I’m sure there’s something you love to do too.”

That made you wonder. There were many things you enjoyed doing, but suddenly, none of them came to your mind as Jungkook kept staring at you, probably waiting for the answer. Your brain worked faster than on the university entrance exam, yet the more pressure you put on that poor thing, the more alert it seemed to be.

“Honestly, I’m glad when I have a weekend off. This is my second year on the university and keeping my shit together is getting harder and harder. But well, there was this period of time when I enjoyed doing Yoga almost every day. Currently it’s just reading books and listening to music. Now you are going to think I’m one of those boring people who like to stay inside instead of partying with a large group of friends,” you decided to be honest with him because there was nothing left to lose. Also, why not being honest with someone who decided to sacrifice his own free time in spite of giving you tattoo?

“Why would I think you are boring? I love being by myself with a good book or a good movie on Netflix. However, I also like to go out with my friends from time to time. And I bet you do, too,” the teasing smirk was back on his lips, although it didn’t last long as he reached for your hand with excited sparkles dancing in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

You only nodded, watching him like a hawk when he reached for the disinfection and turned back to you with a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. And just like before, Jungkook easily slipped into his tattoo artist mode, moving around with grace and something more that made your eyes stay pinned on him rather shamelessly. He must have felt your eyes scanning him up and down when he did the magic to your hand - aka applying the disinfection and then wiping your skin gently once he was done. After that, he put some kind of gel on your skin and when you asked what he was doing, he only chuckled.

“I need to print the design on your skin. It helps with the process,” he said, not giving you a single glance as he was so drawn in each step of his job. Next time you looked down on your hand, he was pressing the paper against your skin, peeling it off after he was sure the design was completely imprinted. The picture came out blue and blurry in some places, but you knew that wasn’t an issue for someone like Jungkook. “Is it okay like that? Do you want me to move it a little?” he asked, pushing back on the chair he was sitting in for you to have space to inspect the future design of your tattoo. You brought your hand closer to your face, inspecting each detail of the pattern, internally already excited about how it was going to look once it was done and completed.

Honestly, it looked nice and somehow, you felt it suited you well. Exactly like he told you when he first showed you the design. Simple and delicate, yet somehow daring. Nonetheless, you must have been checking it for way too long as Jungkook cleared his throat and you were quickly snapped back to the reality.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I think the place is amazing, you don’t need to move it. I can already imagine it,” you smiled without the realization Jungkook was closer to you once again, his hot breath brushing against the skin of your exposed shoulder. You weren’t going to lie here, the shivers danced down your spine crazily and your head spun a little when the scent of his musky cologne attacked your senses. How come you didn’t catch it sooner? Never mind, this wasn’t the right time nor place to be weak for the blonde artist.

Although he was hot.

Very hot.

“Okay then, let’s get this beauty done,” he smirked and you couldn’t do otherwise but mirror the excitement that was entangled within his voice. You outreached your hand for him, mentally preparing for the pain to come. Bonus points for Jungkook who let you breathe out for a while before he grabbed the tattoo machine and leaned closer to you to the point you felt his breath and cologne again. Damn, that kind of thoughts must have clouded your mind completely because you hissed when the needle first touched your skin. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch nor you moved an inch in your seat. Soon, you grew kind of used to the new sensation glazing through your skin.

“You okay?” he looked up to your eyes after a minute or two, you didn’t count. You only nodded, chewing on your inner cheeks because you couldn’t describe the weird sensation. On the scale of ‘it hurts’ to ‘it’s kind of annoying’, your feelings balanced perfectly in the middle.

“Yeah. Just can’t decide if it hurts or not. I mean, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it was going to hurt. Am I weird?” you voiced out your thoughts with a chuckle accompanying them, hoping Jungkook would understand the message you tried to send.

“You are not weird. I’ve met countless people who couldn’t quite decipher what they felt, and to be honest with you, I’m surprised you are not squealing in pain considering the place you chose for your first tattoo is quite painful. No offense, of course. Anyway, yeah. Long time ago, me and my brother agreed this type of pain was… somehow exciting. You are expecting something great and you are willing to go such a length to get it, whilst the pain. I, personally, like that pain.”

“I can see that. Considering your arms are basically drowning in the ink. I like it,” the bold confession slipped your lips without you even realizing so. Jungkook stopped working for a split second and looked at you, eyes hazy and suddenly full of something that hasn’t been there before. And as much as you yelled at yourself internally to avoid his gaze, the other half of yourself did quite the right opposite. You started back with the growing smirk curling your lips in a teasing matter. Something inside of you enjoyed the little game that was slowly but surely getting out of control with each second that passed. If he could call you love, you could play with him in return as well.

All while keeping his eyes on yours, he started talking, the process of tattoo momentarily completely forgotten.

“Most of it is mine work, some of it my brother’s. Got my first one when I was sixteen and parents almost killed me. My brother went with me, he played the role of my legal guardian since I was still a minor. And that’s basically how this addiction started. First tattoo, drawing my own designs, getting the machine and experimenting on my own skin. I fucked up some and my brother had to cover it with another design. And I still want more,” he said, giving a special emphasis on the last word as his eyes flickered in your direction for the last time before he started working on the tattoo again. The stinging sensation grew heavier, yet you prevented yourself from yelping or flinching in your place.

Because the sensation of his burning stare caused you feel more than the process of inking your skin itself.

“That really is a sheer talent,” you murmured under your nose, still bothered with the thoughts that kept whirling in your mind like a vortex that swept everything along the way. You thought about his words again and again until a question rolled down your tongue. “Do you think I might end up wanting more too?”

He looked up to you with the long strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. The urge to push it behind his ear was too strong and you had to resist hard not to reach out to do it. Damn, there was something about him that kept bugging you like crazy.

“I don’t know, love. You can get rid of the tattoo in a year or less. Or you can come barge in like Jimin did because you will want another one. One can never know,” he said as he reached for the paper wipes to clean the first part of the tattoo that crawled around your wrist. His touch was gentle and caring, almost as sweet as the smile that appeared on his lips when he said: “I’m going to finish the outlining and then we can take a break if you want. But I should warn you that after the break, it might hurt a little. Your skin will be triggered, so if you feel dizzy or something, let me know.”

“Now you sound like I might pass out.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one,” again, the sound of his laugh filled the room and you rolled your eyes. “But so far, you are holding really bravely. You are definitely not going to pass out.”

The next twenty minutes passed in silence between the two of you, only the soft tunes of R&B music filled the room. However, that wasn’t something that disturbed you, quite the right opposite. You managed to relax yourself, body almost melting against the chair as you let Jungkook finish outlining the tattoo. However, despite your relaxed state, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he touched you even though it was just a part of his job. Of course he had to touch you, of course he had to be careful with what he was doing.

But there was something more to it. Something more about Jeon Jungkook and the way he talked to you when he explained the story behind his tattoos. The way his eyes from time to time flickered to you and refused to leave just to hold a tiny piece of eye-contact. Not that you wanted to flatter yourself, but you did. This wasn’t only in your head - he was staring because he probably felt the same connection or how you should call it.

No, it was not connection.

Perhaps something else.

Something you would dare to call desire.

But then again, you didn’t want to flatter yourself.

But you did.

The realisation you were all hot and disturbed because of the blonde tattoo artist covered in ink felt fresh and exciting, however, you were quickly pulled out of the pool of your thoughts when he pushed back and put down the machine, getting rid of the gloves. He threw them into a trash bin and when he looked at you, there was this bunny smile gracing his features.

“Time for a little break. Do you want coffee or something? I bet the one you brought with you must be already cold,” he shook his head and got up from the seat, eyes still pinned on you. For some reason, a thought of him being able to read your thoughts momentarily flashed through your mind - and you felt stupid for even thinking about it. Of course, it was only able in those fantasy books you loved reading.

Yet, his eyes mirrored something deeper.

“Coffee, please. With milk and sugar if I can ask.”

“Of course. Everything for you, love.”

Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said it might hurt after the break. The skin on your hand was triggered and burning, however, you were too proud to admit it was getting too painful and too unbearable. Instead, you kept biting on your inner cheek while your eyes remained on his focused face and his skillful fingers that were almost done with the tattoo. What was first a design in Jungkook’s little sketchbook was now a beautiful art gracing the skin of your hand in a very delicate way. Just when the art was done and Jungkook cleaned your skin, he put on a transparent tape over it and gave you yet another bunny smile.

“And, we are done,” he pushed away from you and got rid of the latex gloves, cleaning the mess around while you hopped down from the chair and checked yourself in the mirror on the wall (although you didn’t really have to since the tattoo was perfectly visible just by looking at it). As you were scanning your posture in the reflection, you also felt something else. A pair of eyes running up and down your body rather shamelessly, and you had to admit - you enjoyed the attention he was giving you.

“You are strangely silent and I’m not sure if I like it or not,” Jungkook surprised you with his words, causing you to finally turn to him with a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was already done with cleaning the space, now sitting in the tattooing chair with arms folded over his chest. Something about him was so mesmerizing you found yourself unable to look away and take a deep breath. He seemed the same, though, giving you a rather intimidating look full of undisclosed attention and something more.

“I was just checking the masterpiece you created, that’s all. It looks amazing,” your voice came out strong and steady, surprising even yourself when you finished the sentence with a smile plastered over your features. Ever since you crossed the threshold of Jungkook’s salon, you managed to boost your confidence a little over the small talk and the cup of coffee you two had together during the short break.

“Now you are exaggerating, love. Anyway, I’m glad you like it. The first one is always very special. At least in my case,” the smirk was soon replaced by the bunny smile you found too cute on a guy like Jungkook. His appearance and look probably confused many people - including you. When you saw him for the first time, you thought he was a bad boy, a player, someone who would toy with you around only to tell you off the next day. But the more you were talking to him through the session, the more convinced you grew he was actually a nice guy with passion for art and tattoos. He was a nice example of that ‘to not judge the book by its cover’ saying. Those thoughts seemed to occupy your mind for longer than you thought as Jungkook slid down the chair and came closer to you, examining the tattoo he has just given you. “And it looks very good on you. Hot and tempting, but also sweet and delicate. It’s complimenting you well, love,” this time, he put a special emphasis on the last word, catching you completely off guard. However, you quickly collected yourself as your eyes found his, already staring. Once again, he came too close to you, completely destroying the last pieces of your personal space, but for some reason, you didn’t give a damn. If he was about to play, you weren’t the one to chicken out of this. No, not really. Therefore, came the answer with a smile flashing through your features and the smirk your eyes managed to pull out.

“Thank you, I like that place too. And who knows, I might come for more once I think about it deeper,” you smiled and internally fought the urge to touch him somehow. Anyhow. The aura around him was so welcoming you almost heard it whispering those teasing words into your ear, luring you to come closer despite the fact his work was over for now. You didn’t want to be done with him, not yet. You wanted more.

And moreover, you wanted him to call you like that again.

Gosh, being attracted to someone has never been more annoying than at this very moment when you wanted nothing more but to lean closer and—

“I’d be very happy, to be honest,” he took a step back, however, the smirk remained lingering over his facial features, giving you that tiny spark of hope that the game wasn’t finished just yet. But then again, he took a step back and it was a sign for you to do the same.

“Surely I will let you know in advance next time. Now, how much do I owe you?”

“How much what?”

“How much for the tattoo, Jungkook,” you couldn’t help but put a special emphasis on his name that rolled down your tongue easier than you first expected. He seemed to be caught off guard momentarily before a soft sound of him chuckling filled the room.

“Nothing,” he shrugged as if it indeed was nothing, as if he just didn’t grace your skin with his art.

His answer made you look at him in pure shock, blinking once and twice before his answer settled and you finally understood the simple word that left his lips. Just when you were about to scold him a little, he caught you unprepared with yet another shocking answer. “I stole a drink from you, so think about this as a payback. Also, you seem to be friends with Seokjin - and Seokjin’s friends are my friends.”

It was quick and bold answer, leaving you standing there as if someone spilled a bucket of cold-ass water over your head. Your lips formed a shape of a small ‘o’ and you very probably looked like a complete idiot.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I came here on your day off; you can’t give me a tattoo for free.”

“My studio, my rules, love. However, you are right about this one,” he wondered out loud, giving you a look that you couldn’t decipher, quite the right opposite. The look and his answer made your heart beat faster, almost as if it wanted to jump straight out of your ribcage. However, you kept it cool, just casually waiting for him to tell you more.

But he didn’t.

“So?”

“So… let’s just say you owe me this one, love. Let’s settle this as a debt I can collect anytime I want. What do you think about that?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that was supposed to look innocent, yet there was nothing innocent about the mischief burning in his eyes. And despite the fact you didn’t know what did he mean by the ‘debt he could collect anytime he wanted’, the idea somehow excited you, causing the butterflies to play the game of catch in your tummy again.

“I think that’s something I can agree on.”

“Then give me your number, love,” he fetched his phone and unlocked it, handing it to you right after. You took a deep breath, typing the number and giving it back almost immediately. You didn’t dare to save the number, honestly curious about what name he was about to use for you. But as much as you tried to peek, Jungkook turned away from you, typed something down and then gave your phone a quick call so you had his number as well. Just then he put the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. Pout momentarily flashed through your features, but once he turned back to you, it was quickly replaced by a smile. At least you had his number now.

“Alright so… I’m gonna go now. Thank you for… you know, staying and working despite you were supposed to have a day off.”

“No need to thank me, pretty one. Let me tell you, it was a very well spent time. I will see you around? Perhaps on Seokjin’s anniversary party at the bar next week? Or… perhaps sooner, who knows,” the same mysterious look appeared in his face once again as he gave you a look. You tried not to pay attention to the way he ghosted after you while you collected your stuff and slid into the leather jacket. “And don’t forget to take care about the tattoo. Leave the tape on for approximately twenty-four hours and then gently wash it. And use a special lotion, here, I almost forgot,” it was impressive how quickly he snapped into his artist mode, reaching for one of the tubes standing on the shelf nearby. “Here, use this. Twice or thrice a day. If anything, call me.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. I will see you.”

“I already can’t wait, ____.”

Perhaps Jungkook was right when he said he would see you at the bar next week. And maybe, just maybe, you expected that stupid call or debt-collecting way sooner. Because once you came home from the tattoo session at his salon, you did nothing else but stared at your phone, almost cursing yourself for being that worked up over a boy you’ve only spent a few hours with. Yet, he left you excited and expecting, although nothing came. The week was long and boring, you mostly spent it with your friends or cuddled under the blanket with Netflix and bottle of red wine. From time to time, you thought about giving him a call first, but you always declined the idea as soon as it rubbed against your mind. You didn’t want to seem desperate; you didn’t want to look like another freshmen thirsting over the postgrad student, way out of your league.

But then again.

The way he talked to you never left your memory, quite the right opposite. Your brain decided to rub it in your face until the night of Seokjin’s anniversary party came and your friends came barging into your dorm room with paper bags full of alcohol they claimed to be a ‘pre-game you needed’. Drinks were followed by loud laughter and fight over who was about to use the bathroom first - because it had the biggest mirror and the best lightning needed for a precise make-up process.

Hours later, you finally made it to the bar, wearing short black dress your friends chose for you despite your loud protest. At first, it felt a bit uncomfortable because you were used to visit the place wearing jeans or shorts with comfortable tops, but once you realized you weren’t that underdressed, it calmed your mind a little since there were girls wearing considerably less amount of clothes.

“I’m thinking about tequila, what about you?” one of your friends asked, actually not waiting for you answer as she made a straight bee line towards the bar. Not caring about people waiting, she fought her way towards the bar and ordered you a round of the drink you swore you would never drink again. Yet, some promises were made to be broken - all over again, in your case.

After you received your shot of tequila, you cheered with your friends but not for long. It literally took them ten minutes to disappear, dancing in random corners of the bar with random dudes while you tried your best to find a calmer place - which was a corridor that led to the restrooms and deeper, where the visitors of the establishment weren’t allowed.

Not that you weren’t about to have fun, not at all. You just wanted to check your phone in case… well, you were probably very much head over heels for Jeon Jungkook who didn’t give you a call or spared you a text since last Saturday, but who were you to blame him?

“Looking for someone?”

You almost jumped in your place, placing the phone back into your purse as you turned around and face Seokjin, the handsome bartender to whom this crazy party has been dedicated. Instead of his usual place behind the bar, he seemed to have a night off, enjoying the party at its fullest.

“No, not really. My friends dumped me and I wanted to check my phone, that’s all,” you shrugged with a smile on your face, crossing your arms over your chest right after. “What about you? Aren’t you having fun tonight? It’s your third anniversary as the most handsome bartender - as I heard. What are you doing here?”

Yes, what was he doing there? In the hallway that led towards the door to the supply room when he wasn’t even working? Perhaps he was seeking some lone time as well, you didn’t know.

“Oh, we are at the VIP box with the guys but we ran out of some bottles so I was just going to get them. It’s easier than fetching it from the bar. Do you mind giving me a helping hand?” he asked with a genuine smile plastered over his features. You quickly nodded, following him to the supply room. You’ve never been there before which made you feel like going on an adventure. Seokjin quickly grabbed a few bottles of whisky, handing you two of them as he collected more. You gave him a look but he left it without answer which only left you wondering just how many guys were out there, sitting in the VIP box he had mentioned before.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” you asked and followed him out of the supply room, hands full of bottles of alcohol. Seokjin scoffed but smile crawled to his lips almost immediately.

“I’d rather spend the night behind the bar. I mean, I’m not saying I’m not enjoying the night, but it feels different to be on the other side. I guess I’ve been working here for way too long to enjoy a proper night off.”

“Come on, this is your party, you should enjoy it,” you nudged him as you navigated your way through the crowd of people dancing on the floor. The VIP box was located on the second floor of the bar, way calmer spot for people who just wanted to chat and enjoy the night without bumping into already intoxicated (mostly) freshmen. Way up there was a bit challenging with high heels and your hands full, but you successfully reached the spot - and almost dropped the bottles when your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook’s. He seemed to be surprised to see you up there but he quickly adapted to the situation and offered you a smile that quickly transformed into a welcoming smirk.

You put the bottles on the table, completely ignoring the looks of others, and straightened your posture.

“Okay, so… I’ll go,” you didn’t know who did you address your words to, but Seokjin was the one to answer you almost immediately.

“Why would you go? You said your friends dumped you. Stay with us for a while and then you can go. I don’t think the others would mind,” he said, turning to the guys sitting around the table. They shrugged one after another until it came to Jimin and Jungkook. The duo seemed to welcome you way warmer than the others, deep into a conversation about a thesis that was completely out of a place.

“Come, sit, sweetheart,” Seokjin ushered you to the last vacant spot next to Jungkook who immediately moved to give you slightly more space. Not so much, though, as he shamelessly threw his arm on the couch over your arms. He didn’t touch you, but you knew the motion spoke for itself.

“So, you got dumped, huh?” he asked, leaning a bit closer so you could hear him. The music might have been a bit more silent than down there, but people still needed to sit closer to each other if they didn’t want to yell like crazy. Exactly like the rest of them since the conversation seemed to escalate into something reminding more of a fight.

“It depends on the point of view. They were pretty much smashed before we even arrived here. You know, the pre-game and stuff. So, after a shot of tequila, they disappeared to look for an adventure like Powerpuff girls. I’m not blaming them, it’s not the first time. And right now, I guess I’m talking way too much, aren’t I?” you looked at him, kind of flustered by your own behavior. The words just fell off your mouth without you thinking about them first. Perhaps you were intoxicated more than you first thought and it perfectly mirrored on the way you were talking to him - shamelessly and without filter between your brain and mouth.

“You can never talk too much, love.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. At least you are not blushing and giggling like crazy. That’s really something I’m not digging,” he shook his head and looked into your eyes but soon, the gaze dropped to the hand in your lap. He gently reached for it, his thumb recreating the lines of the tattoo that was already in the process of healing. “Seems like you didn’t forget to take care about it. Good girl,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and his breath caressed your skin. Your eyes met and your heart fluttered, the urge to lean closer was back and on the highest alert. Yet, you were still not intoxicated enough to simply lean closer, grab his collar and kiss him right here, in front of his friends. Also, the way Seokjin peeked over his shoulder to check on you to stopped you from proceeding with the plan that has just come to life in your mind.

But taking one brave step forward would harm anyone, would it?

You leaned closer to his ear, desperately fighting the way his cologne was making you go crazy, and whispered: “Exactly like you told me, Jungkook.”

His posture changed and you could swear you saw the muscles shifting under the layers of clothes he was wearing. With clenched jaw and closed eyes, it took him a while to come back to his senses. Yet, you never pulled away from him, enjoying the scent of his musky cologne taking over your senses rather quickly.

“Love, what are you doing right now?”

“What am I doing?” you asked, blinking once and giving him an innocent smile. “I’m not doing anything, Jungkook. I just let you know I’m taking care about my tattoo the way you told me to.”

“Right,” he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. Something inside of you chuckled, the silent voice telling you that indeed, the game you started to play last week was on the table once again. With those thoughts, you watched as he reached for one of the bottles on the table and turned to you with a question mirroring in his eyes. You only nodded, giving him a go to pour you a glass.

Suddenly, you completely forgot about the pre-game drinks and the round of tequila you had shortly after you’ve arrived at the establishment. You forgot how annoying the hungover might be in the morning. Also, it was too late to think about it when Jungkook handed you a glass of whisky you brought with Seokjin. It was neat, without ice cubes you would be happy for, but this had to do.

“To—is there something we should cheer to, love?” he asked, taking his previous place next to you. Dangerously close to you. You looked at the glass in your hands and let out a humming sound.

“First, we should toast to Seokjin. In the end, this is his party,” with those words, you turned to Seokjin who occasionally kept an eye on you two. He smiled and nodded, joining the toasting process without even being invited. When the others joined and their loud cheering filled the space, you turned back to Jungkook without taking a sip of the drink. “And then, perhaps, we should drink to this masterpiece you managed to create on my hand,” you smiled softly, yet the softness never reached your eyes as the game has already started. And you hated being on the losing end.

“You are the fierce one, I see. Honestly, I misjudged you a bit,” he said, downing the drink and putting the empty glass on the table. You did the same and leaned back, your nape brushing against his arm that managed to find the way around your shoulders once again.

“Now you got me interested. How did you misjudge me, Mr. Jeon?”

“Easy as that - you came to my studio visibly stressed on Saturday morning. I knew you were not sure about getting the tattoo at first, but then, something changed. As if something has clicked inside of you and you took the complete opposite direction. I liked that. I liked that a lot. But then again, I’ve already told you I’m not digging the fake shy game. You decided to be honest with me,” he shrugged, offering you a genuine smile.

And that was the moment the smile vanished from your face.

Because you weren’t completely honest with him.

You didn’t tell him the whole tattoo thing was just a bet because you didn’t manage to get Jimin’s number. Yes, that satan who now sat at the same table as you, laughing loudly on something his best friend told him. However, you weren’t mad about the bet anymore, because what came out of the consequences you had to accept was something beautiful. Something you fell in love with your eyes fell on it.

And perhaps that was the reason you decided to be honest with Jungkook once again. You took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm the inner storm that dispersed the game of catch the butterflies played in your stomach.

“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Come at me, love. Tell me whatever you want.”

“The tattoo… when I came into your salon last weekend, without having an appointment… it was a consequence of a bet I lost the night you stole my drink. I— I believe I don’t have to tell you what that bet was about, but the condition was simple. If I fail, I’m about to get a tattoo. I believe my friends used it against me because I was talking about getting one for quite a time, so… this was just a push for me,” suddenly, you weren’t so brave and bold as before. You felt shrinking in your seat, the touch of his hand on your shoulder almost burning. For some reason, you expected a storm coming but instead, your senses met with a chuckle that escaped Jungkook’s lips. He shook his head, giving you a rather unbelievable look.

“So, a bet, huh? I’m not gonna lie to you, love. You are not the first one to get a tattoo because of a bet. Although, I didn’t consider you the type to accept conditions like this. I guess I should put that on the mental list I made about you - things about ____ that keep surprising me. We should drink to that.”

You looked at him with mouth wide open, probably looking like an idiot. You were expecting a lecture but instead, he laughed in your face - and didn’t forget to flirt along the way. And although you were pretty much caught off guard, you quickly collected yourself and relaxed a little. Your little secret was out and you felt much lighter.

“May I know what was that bet about?”

“No, you may not. Now, pour us that drink.”

“Savage. I like that as well,” smirk graced his features momentarily. Your glasses were soon filled with another round of the golden liquid that easily slid down your dry throat and numbed your senses more. The good old feeling of intoxication clouded your view of world and your head spun a little, making you lean into Jungkook. The blonde didn’t seem to mind as he finished his drink and his hand other hand slid to your thigh, leaving a burning trail as it finished its journey on your exposed knee. He was silent for a moment, his eyes dropped to his hand that explored your skin, fingers dancing on the floor of your naked skin. The sparks of electricity were undeniable, making you take a deep breath.

“So? How did you decide? Do you want to get rid of that or do you want another one?” his hot breath met the sensitive skin under your ear as he leaned closer to ask you a question you didn’t see coming. Just then his hand left your knee and grabbed yours, thumb once again recreating the lines of tattoo he gave you. The way he was basically curled around you, shielding you from the outer world that seemed to go wild around you, made your breath got stuck in your throat, unable to give him a proper answer even though you were basically screaming in the back of your mind.

“I haven’t given it a thought yet, to be honest. But if I wanted another one, I’d definitely book an appointment beforehand, no worries about that.”

“Well, that’s your call to make. You have my number, so it’s going to be fairly easy,” he murmured, leaning even closer to you, not giving a damn about his friends sitting around the same table. You looked at him, taking a deep breath just to get a little bit higher on his musky cologne. And although his breath was mixed with alcohol and perhaps cigarettes as well, you so wanted to lean in and kiss those two sweet cushions. Inches of air held you from kissing each other, inches of nothing but space you hated so much. You hated it existed and you hated it prevented you from kissing the blonde tattoo artists. Although, everything you needed to do was simply to lean in and steal the kiss.

You didn’t do it.

No, you didn’t.

Because he was faster.

He crossed the last line of your personal space and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss that was sweet but tempting at the same time. You felt the tip of his tongue caressing your lower lip, wordlessly asking for a permission to slip in and give you more.

But there was this thing.

You weren’t alone. Not at all.

That was the reason you pushed back even though the kiss left you feeling like a hot mess. And before you had a chance to speak, he pressed his index finger on your lips.

“It’s time to collect my debt, love.”

“Collect how?”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, boldly.

You felt your head spinning and you didn’t know whether it was because of the alcohol or the excitement that rolled through your body and settled in your core, sending painful pangs to your lower parts. Yet, you managed to give him an answer right away.

“Like where?”

“Like to my place.”

“Gladly.”

The cold night outside seemed to be the only witness of your little escape from Seokjin’s party. Jungkook’s friends sitting around the table were too busy with the fiery conversation going on to notice the two of you left, and your friends were nowhere to be seen. The club was packed, so Jungkook had to hold your hand tightly when he navigated the way through the ocean of dancing bodies. You liked it; the way his fingers tangled with yours, holding tightly onto you just to be sure you wouldn’t disappear or bail from his debt-collecting plan.

When you finally got out of the club, the cold air brushed against your skin and sobered you up a little to the point you realized what you were about to do, but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he led the way down the street, knowing exactly where to go. Just when you crossed the street and walked for a few more minutes, you realized his studio wasn’t that far away.

The studio.

Was he really taking you to his studio?

“Didn’t you say we are going to your place?” you asked, a little bit dumbfounded when he didn’t aim for the main entrance of the tattoo salon, but instead led the way to the other side of the building. Another door came to your sight and Jungkook fished the keys from the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He noticed you staring at him with furrowed brows and he chuckled.

“Of course, love. This is my place, you just haven’t seen it all, that’s it,” he said as he unlocked the door and pulled you into a dark hallway. He closed the door and locked it again, but instead of turning on the lights, his arms sneaked around your waist like a pair of snakes, pulling your body closer into his. The way he teased you back in the club was nothing compared to how he held you at the moment, his chest hot and heaving with every breath he took brushing against you, igniting the fire again. “I hope you didn’t change your mind, princess.”

“Not yet,” teasing words rolled down your tongue and were followed by loud yelp when Jungkook’s hands slid down your bum and made you jump into his arms. The dim light of the street lights that peeked inside through the windows illuminated his face and revealed the smirk curling his lips.

“Love, you know I like it when you are fierce, but even I have my boundaries. So, if you don’t want to end up with blue ass and shaking legs, I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” he murmured into your ear and turned around as if you weighed nothing. His motion only made you wrap your arms around his shoulder and bury your face into his neck. Soon, you felt him climbing the stairs to the upper floor. Curiously, you looked around only to see nothing. The room was covered in darkness, not even the street light reaching inside.

“Mhm, mysterious,” you mumbled under your breath and squinted your eyes in desperate effort to scan the place. Jungkook only chuckled and continued in his little journey until he reached one of the doors, bringing you inside. Finally, he switched the lights on and revealed the place he brought you to.

The room was coated in darkish colors and was dominated by a big bed with sheets crumpled in a messy pile. Opposite the bed was a working table with PC and a pile of sketchbooks and in one of the corners stood a guitar. The rest of the room was made by wardrobe, drawers and shelves. It was simple yet it somehow complimented his persona. For a while, you just stood there, looking around yourself to grasp a tiny detail that would tell you something more about Jungkook’s character. And just when you were about to dive in, a pair of strong arms curling around your waist from behind cut the train of your thoughts.

“Do you want something to drink?”

You turned in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck to pull him into a kiss that seemed to be the most natural thing ever. Your lips met in a sweet kiss that soon grew into something more heated, perhaps a fight for dominance you immediately lost as he pressed you closer to his chest and caressed your lower lip with his tongue. You opened your mouth, welcoming him with a silent whimper that crawled from deep inside of you. He smirked into the kiss, deepening it a little to lure another series of moans out of you. And when he pulled away with the same smirk still playing over his features, you pouted.

“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to drink. I want you,” you murmured and your fingers started to work on his leather jacket, slowly rolling it down his shoulders until the piece of clothing hit the floor. But you didn’t stop, the jacket wasn’t enough. Your fingers found the way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing one after another until his firm chest came to view and you took a deep breath.

“Seem like you like what you see, love,” Jungkook wondered out loud, chuckling right after. Honestly, you didn’t mind stripping you off the clothes that covered upper part of his body. He didn’t even mind when your fingers touched his burning skin and recreated the lines of tattoo covering his chest and stomach, mainly the tattoo of tiger and its paw that disappeared under the waistband of his peeking boxers. When you touched him there, his hand shot up and handcuffed your wrist. “In this household, we play the fair game,” with his words, you found yourself pressed against the wall with his lips lingering around the skin of your neck. So close, yet so far; his lips left you desiring when he didn’t kiss you there. And you were craving him. You wanted him like crazy. Your mind was clouded, your eyes seeing red as he carefully peeled your jacket off your body. Cold air mixed with his hot breath gently caressed your skin and you trembled, wishing for nothing but to be in his arms already.

“Then strip me,” surprisingly, your voice came out steady and full of confidence. Even Jungkook blinked once before the infamous smirk flashed through his features - and to your very surprise, he took a step back until the back of his knees meet the bed and he sat down. Spreading his legs while leaning back on his elbows, he teasingly clicked his tongue and you felt his eyes running up and down your body.

“Why don’t you do it yourself, love?”

Wave of heat rolled through your body and your cheeks flushed momentarily. He took the game to yet another level and for a split second, you weren’t so sure about playing. But then again, your eyes briefly flickered in his direction and you had to swallow the whimper crawling up your throat.

“Fine,” you shrugged and reached for the straps of your dress, internally cursing your friends for making you wear it. This piece of dress was too tight to allow you to wear a bra underneath, but thankfully, you could afford to wear at least panties. The process of thinking slowed down your motion which only boosted the hunger in Jungkook’s eyes. The spark of power play flashed between the two of you as you finally managed to pull one string down - and the second followed right after. You’ve never stripped in front of anybody - if you didn’t count your friends, but that was a completely different case - so you weren’t so sure about what you were doing. Yet, Jungkook seemed to like it. His hand slid to his crotch where the bulge started to form while a silent curse left his lips.

You pushed the fabric lower over your hips and let it hit the floor before you stepped out of it, kicking the high heels off your feet along the way. Shivers danced down your naked spin and you trembled a little under the weight of Jungkook’s heavy gaze. He was silent for a while, only staring at you as his tongue poked his inner cheek.

“I always knew you were a piece of art, love,” his words surprised you and brought yet another wave of blush to your cheeks. Even in the middle of a heated moment he was complimenting you like a true gentleman. His posture straightened as he sat on the bed and signaled you to come closer. “Come closer, sweetheart.”

Your body acted on autopilot, approaching him only to stop between his parted legs. He looked at you from down there, long blonde strands of hair falling into his eyes as his hot breath brushed against the soft spot under your exposed breasts. The shyness went completely away when he leaned closer and his lips traced a line of wet kisses down your stomach. And again, as if your body didn’t belong to you at all, your fingers found a way to his hair, tugging on the strands tightly when he slid down the bed and dropped to his knees to reach lower.

The tingling started in your fingertips, making them numb to the soft feeling of his hair, and continued to your inners, travelling down to your core that you already felt dripping wet. Your panties were ruined the moment Jungkook stick his tongue and copied the curve of its lacy hem. But before he could do something more, you pushed away, looking at him through your hazy eyes.

“Sit.”

Throaty laugh crawled out of his mouth, but he obediently sat back on the bed, waiting for your move. You weren’t so sure about your next move, but what you knew what that you couldn’t let him continue in his little play. You were already balancing at the edge of falling down the pit of pleasure - and honestly, you didn’t want to let go that easily. And that soon.

You waged your way between his legs only to drop to your knees like he did seconds ago, undoing his pants rather quickly. The bulge in his pants didn’t escape your attention and you found yourself licking your lips. The situation completely took over your senses and turned you into a someone who desperately sought something raw and feral.

“Must be painful, isn’t it, honey?” he was the pro in using pet names, but who said you couldn’t give him one as well? Mainly when he looked like he really enjoyed you calling him like that. However, you quickly hushed those thoughts to the corner of your mind and rolled down his pants, throwing it into the space behind you. Fierce, really. Suddenly, Jungkook was sitting in front of you only in his boxers, yet you decided to get him rid of those as well.

Wearing nothing but ink and the smug smirk on his face, you took another deep breath to calm your senses before your eyes dropped to his lower area. Tall and hard, his cock brushed against his underbelly with his red tip that called for some attention.

“It indeed was painful, thank you for your help, little one,” suddenly, his voice dropped a few tones lower and you swallowed hard, contemplating what to do next. Of course, you weren’t stupid, you knew what to do next. However, you wanted to adore the view in front of you for a little longer.

Because the naked man in front of you kicked the air out of your lungs completely.

“Well then we should do something about it, don’t you think?” you leaned closer, fingers curling around the base of his pulsing cock. Whimper escaped Jungkook’s lips and you smirked, leaning even closer to gently kiss his rosy tip.

“Love, don’t tease me,” he murmured, voice deeper than before because of the tense atmosphere lingering around. You had none of his shit as you took him in and twirled your tongue around his length, feeling the veins popping out. You gave him a few licks before diving deeper, letting his tip brush against the back of your throat. His whole body tensed under you and his hand found a way to your hair, tugging on it rather harshly. Not that you minded.

“Fuck, love, just like that—“ he threw his head back and moaned loud, causing you to swallow on purpose. You looked up at him exactly at the same moment he looked at you, eyes wide open as a deer caught in the flashlight in the middle of the road. What happened next was too fast for you to catch up but suddenly, you found yourself caged under his firm body on the bed, legs wide apart as he squeezed himself in between. His whole posture changed, the features of a soft artist were gone and replaced by something harsher and hungrier. He was hungry for lust and passion. He was hungry for you.

“It’s time for you to get rid of these,” he murmured, pushing away only to get you rid of the panties. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room and you gasped, giving him a rather offended look.

“Those might have not been my favorite one, but hey! I’m not going home completely underwear-less!”

“Who said you are going back home?” the cockiness in his voice caught you completely off guard and unprepared when he parted your legs again and slid lower, making himself comfortable in between. “Because I’m not letting you go home that soon, love,” with those words, you felt his lips burning a fiery path down your underbelly until he reached your womanhood. And then, the fireworks exploded behind your closed eyes. First, you felt his lips sparing your nether lips soft kisses, nibbling and sucking gently. Then, you felt his tongue sliding up and down your slit, lapping around to drink your juices. And last, you felt his teeth gently teasing your clit which almost pushed you towards the bliss you wanted to hold off for as long as possible.

But your plans were ruined the moment you felt one of his fingers pushing in slowly, curling inside only to leave your body twisting on his bed and in his sheets. Soon, second finger followed, stretching you oh so good while his lips never stopped the wicked dance with your clit. Moans mixed with curse words fell down your lips and your fingers tangled within his blonde locks in a desperate need for climax. And as it was slowly building inside of you, you rolled your hips against his face and now three fingers that pushed in and out in a desperately slow manner. The man exactly knew what he did to you - and he enjoyed it.

“Jungkook—I—I need to cum. Please—“ you stuttered with the last strength you found in yourself, giving him a look. He started back, looking like a hot mess between your legs with your juices glistering all over his face.

“You sound so good when you are pleading, love. Do you want it that much? Huh?” he asked, picking up the pace and you nodded, desperately rolling your hips against his hand. You felt the spasm coming, dangerously close, peeking around the corner. Chuckling sound filled the room as he dove deep into your core again, this time sucking harsher. That was the last action that finally pushed you towards the first orgasm of the night. You let go and welcomed the warm arms of the bliss, screaming and moaning while Jungkook tried his best to guide you through the paradise. The motion of his hands slowed down and he spared your inner thighs sweet kisses to calm you down a little.

It’s been a while since you experienced orgasm this hard and heavy, clouding your senses for minutes until you came back to yourself. You opened your eyes to meet Jungkook’s. He was hovering over your, his erecting poking your inner thighs only reminding you that indeed, he needed some release as well.

“You are so beautiful,” with those words, he leaned closer and gave you a taste of yourself, the kiss so sweet but so passionate at the same time. After you were sure your body recharged at least a little, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, bodies colliding together. Yet, what was sweet once again turned into something not so innocent anymore. His hips rolled against yours and you were again reminded of his pulsing shaft.

“Jungkook—“

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you. Take me. Make me yours.”

“As you wish, my love,” he spared you one last kiss before he pushed away and reached for the nightstand. You gave him a confused look before you realized he was reaching for a pack of condoms. Smile sneaked to your features as you grabbed his arm and pulled him closer again. And at that moment, it was his turn to be confused.

“You don’t need that. I’m clean and on pills so—“

“Shit, don’t tell me twice,” he was back above you, his hand crawling down to his shaft to give himself a few pumps before you felt his tip brushing against your slit. The familiar wave of heat rolled through your body and you didn’t even have enough time to collect yourself as he slowly pushed in, grunting noise accompanying his motion. Slowly, from the tip to the base he filled your pulsing walls and halted, his eyes scanning your face to find a tiny hint of discomfort. However, there was none, only a pure need to urge him to move.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” his voice came out low and hoarse with the first roll of his hips. Unable to form any coherent word or sentence, you only nodded, desperately reaching for him to hold onto something. The gentleman he was, he leaned closer, however the motion caused him to part your legs even wider until you find yourself in a position when your legs were pressed against your chest while Jungkook picked up the pace, sliding deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips. He looked at you and despite the lust that almost sent you to another dimension, you managed to give him a smirk.

“I told you—I did yoga.”

“From now on, you are only practicing yoga with me, love,” smug smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as his thrust became harsher and you felt his tip hitting your cervix.

“You wish,” your teasing manners didn’t leave you even in such a situation, and you soon felt your legs pressed between his and yours shoulders as he decided to lean in and shut you with his own lips. The kiss was hot and heavy, broken from time to time because you the moans that crawled out of your throat. Each thrust of Jungkook’s hips became harder and deeper, which made you call out his name loudly. You felt the sensation building inside of you, slowly but surely. Clenching around him, you tried desperately to push him towards his own limit which was already visible in his hazed eyes. He was close and so were you, yet letting go still seemed out of option.

“More,” you murmured, tugging on his lock, pushing him closer and closer to the finish line. You felt him twitching harshly inside of you, first drops of precum warming your insides.

“Fuck, love, I’m so close.”

“Then cum with me,” your voice came out as a desperate cry, eyes almost tearing as you looked at him, completely lost in the view he provided you. Hot mess was nothing compared to the man towering over you, desperately chasing over the sweet release.

His hand found a way between your sweaty bodies, crawling lower until it reached your clit and gave it a few rubs which finally pushed you towards the finish line. Your body was momentarily caught in a spasm before you allowed yourself to let go, screaming and desperately digging your nails into the skin of Jungkook’s back. The second orgasm of the night felt stronger than the first one, mainly when Jungkook kept thrusting into you, still not there. And you let him. You let him overstimulate you until his body tensed and his cock twitched inside of you for the last time before the thick warm sprouts of his release coated your insides and eventually leaked out into his sheets. His body collapsed into yours and you let a whimper. The heavyweight of his relaxed body made you unable to breathe and when you tried to push him away, it didn’t work.

“Kook, baby.”

“Hmpf.”

“Jungkook.”

Nothing.

“Jeon.”

“What?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Crybaby,” he murmured and slowly pushed away while gently pulling out of you. The sudden lack of his girth made you whimper but you soon found yourself comfortable as he rolled over and pulled you closer to his arms. His chest was firm but soft at the same time, the slight scent of his musky cologne mixed with post-sex scent lingering around. He pressed a kiss to your hair and chuckled.

“What was that?” you asked, too tired to actually look at him.

“Nothing. I just didn’t imagine collecting my debt to end up like this.”

“Now you are lying.”

“No, I’m not, love,” he shook his head and spared the crown of your hair another kiss. “I wanted to ask you on a date. Well, I guess we skipped that stage. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you want to go on date with me.”

Now that was something that made you look at him with a question mark hanging above your head. The man that has just fucked the soul out of you turned into a complete sweetie asking you out for a date. How unbelievable.

“That I’d love to, Jungkook.”

Heavy sigh left his lips. It almost looked like he was relieved.

“And you know what else I want?”

“What is that, my love?”

“Drink. I want my drink, Jungkook.”

“I swear to god… You are going to be the death of me.”

#bts fanfic #bts fic #fanfiction #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #smut #college au #bts au

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amjustagirl · 4 years ago

Text

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke. Kuroo Tetsuro. Tsukkishima Kei. Bokuto Koutaro

Masterlist link

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

Genre / Pairings: Fluff, Hogwarts AU, Sakusa / Reader

Summary: You’re invited to Kiyoko’s seventeenth birthday party, which turns out to be a ball for the glittering elite of the magical world, where you meet one very surly, very sulky Sakusa Kiyoomi.

A/N: Comments as always, are much welcomed. Feel free to shout at me anytime!

Requests closed for the time being!

Though if you toss a suggestion my way that I like, I may...reconsider ;)

Requested by Yeon baobei @moondaius I hope you like it, darling <3

-------------------------------------------

You feel out of place in this party filled with the glittering elite of magical society. Your sleeves do not quite reach down to your wrists, and the ruffles on the neckline of your dress robes are a little limp, but you’ve had to make do with the rejected pile of clothes from your more affluent cousins. It’s not often you get invited to formal dinner parties anyway. Your home is a tiny attic flat on the cross junction between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and your mother is just a humble cleaning lady, so this soiree is just an exception - your classmate Kiyoko being exceptionally kind and inviting you to her seventeenth birthday party.

“Look! Isn’t that Sakusa Kiyoomi? Isn’t he handsome?” You can hear the girls around you sigh dreamily to their friends as said boy enters the ballroom with his cousin Komori in tow.

The Ravenclaw seeker elicits this sort of reaction even in school - or especially in school, but you’ve never joined his legion of fans, his overall grumpiness acting as a deterrent to you ever speaking to him despite sharing multiple classes together. Still, he is handsome, you admit to yourself. Towering over most of the party guests, Sakusa Kiyoomi has artfully tousled black curls, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and the most adorable pair of moles above his right eyebrow.

“Komori!” You wave, grinning with affection as the affable Ravenclaw keeper bounds over towards you like an overgrown puppy.

“It’s so nice to see you here!” He greets you with his usual cheer. “These parties can be a drag if you don’t know anyone.”

“It is a little overwhelming”, you admit, side-eyeing the chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling, dripping in crystals and wrought with gold. You’re sure that if you managed to sneak just one chandelier in your pocket, it’d be enough to feed you and your mother for an entire year.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have fun tonight!” Komori promises with a chuckle. Then he snaps his head back, realising he’s left his cousin stranded in a crowd of fawning women - a fate that Sakusa Kiyoomi obviously deems worse than death judging from the way he glowers down at his shoes as if they’ve offended him in some way.

“You better rescue him”, you add, internally amused as Yuna-san from Slytherin slides her talons up Sakusa’s arms. “Five minutes in, and he already seems like a damsel in distress.”

Komori answers you with a lopsided grin as he swims through the crowd to reach his cousin drowning in his worst nightmare. You snort to yourself, helping yourself to a generous amount of punch, watching as Komori manages to extract Sakusa while charming the ladies into not sulking too much at the loss of their prey. Sakusa promptly disappears once he’s free from the quicksand of social interaction, while Komori himself gets claimed for the first dance of the night.

You have fun too - well, somewhat. You stand along the sides of the ballroom like an overgrown wallflower, watching as your peers in brightly coloured dresses get asked for dances while you’re passed over with a glance at your ill-fitting dress. But Komori does swing by and dances a foxtrot with you - both of you trip over the other at one point, causing a small commotion in the corner of the ballroom, but it’s all in good fun. Even Kiyoko takes the time to pop by and say hi, even though she’s swamped with well-wishers and familial obligations.

You don’t regret coming to the party at all.

“Omi, be social for once.” It’s only because your ears are sharp that you overhear Komori urge his cousin out from his hiding spot behind the dessert table. “You’ve been hiding from everyone the entire night, and you haven’t even danced once!”

“I don’t like people.” Sakusa grounds out through clenched teeth. “And I don’t dance”.

“Don’t be a grump. There are perfectly nice people here - look, I have a friend here who’d be perfect for a dance”.

You look up, meeting his eyes as he grins apologetically at you. You’re about to mouth ‘hell no’ at the irrepressible Komori, but Sakusa beats you to it in his characteristically blunt fashion.

“She’s tolerable enough I suppose, but I’m not inclined to be a knight in shining armour and dance with someone just because no one else will”.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline.

Komori looks like he’s about to push Sakusa into the birthday cake, but thinks the better of it. “Omi”, he hisses in warning.

Sakusa glances up, guilt flooding his eyes when he meets your gaze, but you don’t give him a chance to redeem himself, flouncing away in a swirl of faded satin. You brazenly seek out dance partners for yourself - Kuroo from Slytherin might seem smarmy, but he smirks at you in recognition and twirls you around in a merry square dance and Akaashi from Ravenclaw looks like he’d much rather bury his nose in a book but he’s gentlemanly enough to let you take his hand for a stately waltz.

You’re in the middle of another waltz, this time with sunny Bokuto from Hufflepuff when you spot Sakusa squirming from the corner of your eye. Yuna (Slytherin, seventh year, pureblooded of course) has him cornered, back against the wall, and there’s no Komori in sight to save him – nor anyone really, almost everyone else is enjoying themselves on the dance floor.

You sigh inwardly. Sakusa might be cold and cranky but even he deserves to be rescued from Yuna’s clutches, so you maneuver Bokuto towards in their direction. Bokuto, to his credit, catches on immediately, and with a spark of mischief in his eyes, he grabs a glass of punch and tips it over both Sakusa and Yuna.

“You idiot!?!” Yuna shrieks, horrified as the bright red liquid stains the front of her robes. “These robes were specially tailored for me in Paris you know?”

You didn’t know that, and frankly – you couldn’t care less about the cost of her fancy robes, and with a murmured – I’ll help Sakusa clean up, you grab said boy by his sleeve and manhandle him out of the ballroom. Thankfully she’s so distracted that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that you’re both seventh years now, so there’s really no need for you to rush to the washroom since it’s completely legal for you to be using magic to clean Sakusa up. You leave Bokuto in your wake to deal with an irate Yuna, but he’s grinning nonetheless, telling her that his cleaning charms are awesome, does she want him to try fixing her dress? Akaashi and Kuroo join the commotion, and in the diversion they cause, no one notices your escape.

You tug him down a deserted hallway, relinquishing your grip on him only when you find an appropriate hiding place – an open air balcony, where no one is likely to stumble on you. ‘Turgeo’, you whisper, whipping out your wand, nodding in satisfaction as the charm siphons punch off Sakusa’s robes.

“You can catch your breath here for a bit”, you tell him, hopping up to take a precarious seat on the balcony railing. His brows pinch together, and you watch, bemused as he tries to make sense of what just transpired.

“Tha-“

Taking pity on him, you interrupt him. “You don’t have to thank me. I came to your rescue cos you’re tolerable, even though you’re always grumpy. Plus, I’m a Gryffindor, so being a knight in shining armour comes naturally to me”.

Your amusement grows as he splutters at having his ill mannered words quoted back at him, embarrassment burning into his cheeks. It’s fun to throw calm, collected Sakusa Kiyoomi off balance sometimes, you think – and perhaps given his privileged, pureblood background, he probably needs it every once in a while. But then you’re surprised when he gathers himself and inclines his head ever so slightly.

“That was…inexcusable of me to speak of you that way. I apologise.”

“It’s fine”, you reply easily, but he doesn’t allow you to shrug his apology off.

“It’s not. I was rude and unkind.”

This is the most you’ve ever heard Sakusa Kiyoomi say, and you want to capitalise on it.

“I know how you can remedy that”, you interject with a smile.

He quirks his eyebrows in confusion, watching you warily. You’re tempted to drag out the suspense to watch him squirm, but you don’t want to torture the poor boy any further.

“You can pay me back by giving me the dance you so cruelly refused me”, you tell him, jumping down onto your feet. Then with the most unladylike laugh, you sweep into an exaggerated bow, holding your hand out to him -

“My good sir, if you please?”

He stares down at your proffered hand. “Here? Now?”

“You have another time in mind?” You ask sarcastically, back still bent in a bow. “Come on, your mother probably brought you up better than this, don’t keep a girl waiting forever.”

“Fine, fine”, he mumbles. So as the string orchestra in the ballroom strikes up another tune yet again, he takes your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, he leads you in a waltz.

Step step twirl.

One two three.

Step step twirl.

He’s the ideal dance partner, expertly steering you through the one-two-three of the melody, never once making a misstep – though he does wince when you tread on his toes once too many times.

“You’re surprisingly good at dancing, for a misanthrope”, you comment.

“My mother made me learn”, he replies, ignoring the hidden barb in your remark. “It’s a waste of time, but I guess now that I keep getting invites for balls, it’s useful knowledge so I don’t make a fool of myself when I get forced to dance.”

“Like now?” You chuckle self-deprecatingly.

He doesn’t reply for a few beats and you assume the conversation is over when he replies –

“Not like now. It - this is nice.”

It’s summer, and while the cool night still nips at your skin, warmth inexplicably suffuses your cheeks. You thought you were just having a laugh, it’s only now that you realise that the situation you’ve put yourself in with Sakusa is practically lifted out of a fairytale – a boy and a girl, hiding in a balcony, waltzing under the stars? The only thing missing is maybe a shooting star falling from the skies, or a lost glass slipper or two.

Your train of thought is interrupted when the song ends, and he surprises you yet again when he does not drop your hand.

“Would my lady wish to dance with me again”, he asks, though there’s a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes that belies his formal tone.

You ignore every fiber of your being screaming at you that dancing with him again is going to be terrible for your heart, dropping into a low curtsy.

“Why, I thought you’d never ask”, you simper in a poor imitation of Yuna and her toadies, and he only snorts, sweeping you into his arms, intent on dancing the night away.

----------------------------------------------

“The two of you have been gone the entire night”, Komori comments, a faint accusatory tone colouring his words. “I was about to organise a search party.”

“I was just helping Sakusa clean up after a mishap with a glass of punch”, you reply, though your lie is punctured by the wince you give when your shoes pinch your feet – a sign that you’ve danced far, far too much on this magical night.

“Is that so?” Komori directs his question to his stoic cousin.

Sakusa doesn’t even bother to reply, palm warm against the small of your back as he ushers you off to his flying carriage, intent on sending you safely home.

Your mother’s jaw drops when she wakes up to Sakusa’s carriage thunder down your street, a fleet of winged white horses dragging an enchanted golden carriage. You feel like Cinderella as he escorts you to the front door, pressing a courtly kiss to the back of your hand when he wishes you goodnight. That is, if Cinderella snagged her Prince Charming on the first night they met - by accident, no less.

Your jaw drops when you wake up the next morning to a delivery from an imperial looking snow owl, and when you tear open the parcel, your hands shake so much you have to sit down. That ridiculous boy sent you dress robes of pearl white tulle, along with an invitation to his seventeenth birthday party, to be held in two weeks.

And the most staggering of all – the parcel also includes your dance card, Sakusa’s name neatly written in it to claim ayour dances for the night.

Every single dance of the night.

“Impertinent fellow”, you mutter to yourself, though you can’t help but fall back onto your bed, giggling like a loon.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is an enigma, a boy shielding his true self from the world by cocooning himself in layers of unfriendliness and grumpiness. But in the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you’ve discovered that he isn’t as cold or unfeeling as he makes himself out to be. You unearthed his sharp sense of humour when he started dropping barbs about preening party guests, telling you the dirty secrets of each pureblooded family gathered here tonight.

“She did what?” you gasped. “No way.”

‘Believe it”, he smirked. “She later tried marrying her daughter off to me, but my parents refused”.

And over the course of the night, you start to see shades of his softer side. He surprised you when he apologised over and over again for not dancing with you the first time, saying he hadn’t realised that you were being overlooked because almost everyone in attendance were snobs.

“It’s the dress”, you told him cheekily, tugging at the cheap fabric. “Otherwise everyone around here would be falling for my sparkling personality”.

He couldn’t help but snort at that.

Then he started to tell you about himself. You learn that he wants to go pro not because he has a burning passion for Quidditch, but rather because it’s something he’s put so much effort into that he might as well continue doing it into adulthood. You learn that despite his complaints about the Ravenclaw team - seemingly sweet Suga and the troublesome beaters Makki and Mattsun in particular driving him insane with their relentless ribbing and puns and jokes, he’s grown fond of them.

He’s funny and witty and sentimental and smart. You truly enjoyed his company last night.

You can’t wait to see him again.

Neither can Sakusa, so it seems. He’s on your doorstep before noon, a bouquet of roses and a bashful expression on his face.

“A gentleman caller”, you pretend to swoon as you open the door. “Happy day!”

“I hope I’m the only one”, he retorts, all shyness evaporating immediately, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

“So far you are”, you tease, nose buried in rosebuds. “Fair warning before you sweep me off my feet though - I’m not going to be one of your typical, pureblooded heiresses who’ll titter at every word you say, just cos you’re Sakusa Kiyoomi”.

He actually chuckles at that. “I’m counting on that”, he says, taking your hand.

You both share a shy smile.

#hqradiostation #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu!#haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x y/n #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic rec #haikyuu romance #hogwarts au

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wtf-yoongi · 4 years ago

Text

Plain sight. / KTH

pairing | taehyung x reader

summary | taehyung just wants to be loved (and love is right under his nose)

genre/warnings | fluff + a lil bit of angst?

words | 1,999

note | requested by the lovely 💜💜💜 anon (full request at the end!) sorry for taking the longest time. i’m such a lazy writer

Taehyung is sulking.

The man is sitting on the farthest seat of the comfy sofa, hand clutching his phone tightly as if it could grow wings and fly away at any second. The TV isn’t on, but he’s looking at the screen intently, brows just slightly furrowed in deep thought.

What he is thinking about, though… That’s still a mystery to you.

You have tried to guess whatever is bothering him for — at the very least — half an hour now, but got to no conclusion. Taehyung just sits there, legs crossed and body barely moving except for the rise and fall of his chest, not bothered by your stares or Yeontan’s little wiggles.

How could he after the invitation he got through the mail this morning?

A freaking wedding invitation. His youngest cousin is getting married. The youngest. Why does it have to be the youngest?

Taehyung has reminded himself time and time again that his moment would come. The thing that he feels like is missing so badly in his life would eventually come. There’s no need to rush, no need to worry or stress over this.

Until that pretty envelope came in. Delicate piece of expensive paper, fancy handwriting and all. He is sure someone sprayed perfume on it because the thing even smells good.

Honestly — why does it have to be the youngest one?

What bothers him the most, though, is that he is supposed to be happy for him — and Taehyung, don’t get him wrong, is. His cousin has found someone with whom he wishes to share his life with, who will be there no matter what, will support his decisions and bring his feet down to earth when needed. Someone who will make him eat his veggies and all.

But damn. Taehyung wants that too. He wants to be Loved.

Yes, Loved, with capital L. Not the sort of love you get from you mom — although that is great as well —, but the Love you see in cheesy movies, the Love people talk about in songs, the Love that makes you do irrational things. Taehyung wants all of that. He wants to do irrational things too.

Is that too much to ask?

Too bad you have no idea of what’s going on inside his head. You would be the first to tell him that no, it isn’t too much to ask. Taehyung just needs to realize what’s right in front of him. Right under his nose.

It’s right here, right now. All the capital-L-love he wants. All the love he will ever need. All the love you think is silly and unrequited. Everything you feel the urge to hide as best as you can. The reason why it’s a beautiful and sunny Saturday afternoon and you’re happy to be in Taehyung’s apartment instead of enjoying it outside — just because his mom asked you to make sure he doesn’t sleep until three in the afternoon while she’s on vacation with his father.

You could’ve accepted your friend’s invitation to take a walk after lunch. You could’ve just called Taehyung to make sure he was awake and had something to eat and be okay with it. Except you couldn’t — you had to come by, you had to stop at the convenience store to get something he likes, you had to use your spare key to open the door because Taehyung was, in fact, still sleeping.

What is there to hide? It’s all in plain sight. Taehyung is the only one who can’t see it.

He had gone back to bed after breakfast — he said it emotionlessly right after you asked him if he had eaten anything today. When you arrived, Taehyung already looked a bit displeased, replacing the usual smile and warm hug he welcomes you with for a frown and a cold stare. He didn’t crack even when he saw the treats you had bought, saying thanks in a low voice. At least you can say it isn’t your fault — or at least you can guess so.

To pass the time, you try to keep your hands busy in the kitchen, cleaning up counters and emptying the dishwasher even though no one asked you to do so. Deep down, you know you don’t want to go so soon — even if your friend isn’t the greatest of hosts right now, being here is still somewhat calming. The silence coming from Tae is definitely better than the silence coming from the walls of your apartment.

But enough is enough. You need to know what’s going on inside his head — and not just because you’re curious. Most of all, you want to help. What if it’s something serious? What if it’s something to do with work? You may not be able to do much, but getting it out would surely help, right?

You call his name, raising your voice a little for him to hear you from the living room, but he doesn’t even move a finger. Taehyung seems to be inside of a bubble, protected by a layer of annoyance that not many people would dare to pop. A long exhale comes out of your lips — it may hurt, but you need to know.

As you walk towards his sitting figure, Yeontan — definitely not oblivious to the fact something’s not right — follows you with pleading eyes. He asks you to raise his little body to the couch when you sit and your hands accommodate him between yours and Taehyung’s legs.

Even then, the man doesn’t seem to notice you’re so close. You call his name again. “Taehyung… Come on, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

That’s when he snaps out of it.

“I’m okay,” he says calmly and nods, but his eyes don’t connect with yours like they usually do and you know he’s lying to protect himself. You don’t like it — he shouldn’t feel the need to do that with you. “I’m just thinking.”

“Okay, then,” you concede, relaxing your stance. Yeontan promptly jumps on you belly. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

It takes Taehyung a few moments to collect his thoughts and you wonder if he’s considering telling you the whole story of just half of it. You try not to think about the worst, about the things that would break your heart, but your mind immediately moves in that direction.

All of a sudden, Tae is turning his body to yours, crossed legs now facing you. He doesn’t speak fast, but you notice — gladly — it is unfiltered. It just comes out of his mouth in long phrases, calm and somewhat frustrated, as if he’s on the brink of giving up.

“Have you ever watched one of those romantic movies that are so gross… The sort of thing you watch and think oh, god, this is disgusting or this thing would never happen in real life or something like that?”

Taehyung just gives you enough time to nod.

“Is it so crazy that my brain has been programmed by these movies and tv shows that are oh-so-delusional and now I’m delusional too? Like, I swear to God, I want to take someone for a walk in the park with Yeontan and have ice cream and sit on a bench and giggle quietly while trying to hide my face from people passing by because I’m way too shy about it.”

And I hate the idea that there’s a possibility that I’ll never be able to do it and it’s completely out of my control because it may happen that destiny doesn’t think I deserve to love someone so much, so much it hurts me physically… But, you know, not in the unhealthy way. I mean in the I’m gonna watch her become one of the greatest people in this world and I’m going to be there when she needs me and I’ll be cheering her on way, you know? Please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not the controlling type and I never want to be that, no.”

And just this morning I got a wedding invitation that made me rethink all of those things and, I don’t know, don’t you think by now I should’ve at the very least fallen in love with someone? And I don’t even mean successfully — I mean at all. All my friends have had somewhat serious relationships and now even my youngest cousin is getting married. I’m happy for him, I am, but I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of it never happening to me. Does that make any sense?”

It takes a while for your brain to process all of that and, most importantly, to separate your role as a friend and your want for something more. You take a deep breath before finally looking up to him, heart breaking as you rational side takes over. “Okay. It makes sense, I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Don’t you think it’s weird my twenties are more than halfway gone and I’ve never fallen in love with anyone?”

Your heart breaks a little further with the way there’s so much hope in his eyes. Honestly, not even in your worst nightmares you’d have to go through this sort of conversation with Taehyung — and certainly not while struggling to keep a straight face. You feel tired already from trying so hard, as if your energy has been drained in a second.

Surprisingly, your voice comes out somewhat stable.

“But that’s the thing, Tae. You can’t force this, it happens. And just because it hasn’t happened up until now, it doesn’t mean that it will never,” you add, diverting your gaze to the small dog on your lap. Such a great excuse not to look into Taehyung’s eyes — you wonder if he’ll notice anything when you say your next words. “Also, falling in love isn’t always great. You said you wanted it even if it was unsuccessful, but it hurts, you know?”

“So you have fallen in love?”

“I am in love right now.” You wish you hadn’t answered so promptly. You can’t believe you’re confessing or the words that come out of your mouth next. “And he doesn’t know it and I can’t build enough courage to tell him because I don’t want to lose him over some stupid thing like unrequited love. I just want him in my life, even if it’s not like that… What I’m trying to say is that the movies make it look simple and easy, but it isn’t. Most of the time people just get hurt.”

You’re not looking, but you know from the way Taehyung moves his hands that his eyes aren’t so hopeful anymore. Inside, you’re not just broken from having to keep a mask on while saying all of that, but also for being the one to bring him down so harshly. You wonder if you should’ve toned it down a little, but it’s too late now.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Taehyung says, slowly and carefully, after a few moments. “What I mean by unsuccessful is not spending the rest of your life with this person. I still want to take them for a walk and have ice cream, at least.”

A laugh escapes your lips — desperate, but thankful for the kindness in his heart. “Fair enough. You want to fall in love and you want them to fall in love too. Even if it’s not forever.”

“Exactly. That’s what I want.”

“Okay. Just…” Your voice falters. There’s a hand clenching your heart tightly as you finish your sentence. “Don’t think about it too much, it will happen when the time is right.”

“Ah, I wonder if I’ll be able to notice it, you know? When I finally fall in love with someone… When they fall in love with me.”

It takes all of you for your last words to come out in a single breath.

“It’s hard to see something when you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

Read more ›› masterlist

request | i needed to share my idea because its making me melt. In the most recent in the soop ep, tae and jk had a heart to heart and tae talked about how he wants to be loved and he needs to know that someone loves him. And i just imagined like a comfort scenario where someone just takes care of him when he’s feeling lonely and unloved. My angsty/fluffy feels. So yeah, if you ever want to write something like this... ill cry (out of joy?) 💜💜💜

note 2 | you can tell by “the most recent in the soop ep” how freaking long it took me to write this. honestly, i struggled. this has been rewritten like four times???? and i’m still not quite sure i like it aaaaah

#kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung au #taehyung angst #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagines #taehyung x reader

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echoalyssa · 4 years ago

Text

Used | JJ Maybank

gif by @anakin-skywalker

WARNING : There IS heavy mentions of rape in this. Please proceed with caution and don’t force yourself to read it if you can’t. If this is a trigger to you, DO NOT read this. I love all of you and please don’t ever hesitate to come to me if you are ever struggling or need someone to talk to.

The fire crackles warmly ahead of you, the Pogues had decided to camp out around a fire on the beach tonight and of course you joined. Plus it was probably mandatory. With how many Kooks there were, the Pogues would have to show up to hold their ground.

You’re leaning back against a warm chest, his button up shirt was never actuall buttoned. He has an arm over your shoulder, tangling his long fingers with your own, his head resting atop yours because of the height difference. He laughs at something that John B had said and you smile, solely because of how comforting the laugh of him had become. As well as the soft rise and fall of his chest and the fact that if you turned your head and pushed against him, there you would find the soft rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat nestled in his chest.

His other hand is holding a beer but occasionally he’ll release the bottle with a couple of his fingers and brush them across your hair. Today it fell loose around your shoulders, wavy from the time you had spent in the water with little braids scattered throughout. When you first began braiding your hair this way you would add little silver rings in the braids to make the look fancier but had quickly abandoned the idea with how fast they would fall out and get lost during your excursions with the Pogues.

Kiara says something and John B swats at her but you’re not entirely sure what she had said. You’re too lost in the way that JJ’s fingers are dragging down your wrist and playing with the different string and twine bracelets around your wrist. One of which JJ had made for you, it was probably the worst, design wise, that was on your wrist but it meant the most to you and it held up.

JJ takes another swig of his beer and then groans when he finds it empty. You giggle at his exasperation and push yourself up from your spot on the ground. You rotate to one side, your body having locked up and become stiff, and then the other.

You pluck the beer can from his fingers and then bend and press your lips to his. His fingers slide into your hair and he pulls you in, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he deepens the kiss for just a second before turning you around in the direction of the drinks. His hands linger on your hips and you know that he’s admiring his view before you knock his hands off your hips and stick your tongue out at him.

“Beautiful” He throws in your direction and you flush.

You pick your way across the sand in the direction of the cooler, suddenly feeling the urge to get a drink for yourself as well as your boyfriend. A cooler breeze blows though your hair and swirls around your body. Goosebumps immediately show up after the path that the breeze had taken. You’re wearing a black crop top and denim festival shorts, a bandana around the wrist opposite from the bracelets.

You’ll have to steal your boyfriends shirt, knowing he’d give it to you without a mind. Being that he was so warm all the time, he wouldn’t notice the cool breeze.

When you get to the table there’s a Kook boy there.

“Hey baby!” He quips.

You wince, clearly he didn’t know about your relationship with JJ... or maybe he did and that’s why he was trying to use a nickname like that.

“Just two beers” You say, as politely as possible, trying not to cause any problems with any kooks.

He glances around, trying to figure out where you had come from.

“Are you new here?” He asks and you shake your head.

He reaches below the table and grabs two beers then pops open one and hands it to you. “Want to come hang out with me and my friends?”

And if he didnt have such a douche bag personality he may have been a decent looking boy. You smile at him again politely, “I’ve got to get back to my boyfriend”

A muscle in his cheek twitches and reaches for you bottle, grasps it for a fraction of a second and then pulls back and hands you the second beer. “Okay okay, I get it. See you around?”

You nod and quickly head back to your boyfriend, settling back into his arms. You hand him his beer and then raise yours to your lips. The strangeness of the previous situation is weighing on you and you down the beer in almost two sessions. John B is ogling you, very confused as to why you have suddenly decided to chug your drink and JJ is laughing and cheering you on.

Normally you can hold your alcohol pretty well, but today the world is already spinning. You feel fuzzy and giggly and you suddenly have to pee. “Ive gotta peeeeeee” You say, turning your head and literally licking JJ’s cheek. He swats at you and pushes you in the direction of the woods. Normally he offers to come with you but today he’s engrossed in his conversation with Pope and just lets you go.

You stumble into the trees, giggling and running your fingertips across the bark. You’re stumbling farther into the woods than normal. Normally you just go in far enough to squat and pee where nobody can see you but you’re so entranced with the way the world is spinning, it’s just so pretty.

“Hi again pretty girl.” You spin, confused. And see the boy that had given you the beer. You should be suspicious but you’re just giggling, bent over at the waist.

He moves closer, and then you feel his hand in your hair. You try to jerk upwards but the world is slowing now, it shouldn’t be. You had only had one beer, something doesn’t add up here but you can’t think, your brain is moving too slowly and you’re sinking to the ground and he’s getting so close. And then... the world blacks out.

~~~

When you come to you aren’t sure where you are. It’s cold, freezing actually, and you can hear a voice yelling your name.

“Y/N! Where are you?!”

The voice belongs to your boyfriend, you would know that voice anywhere despite how slow your brain is working.

The edges of your vision is blurred and then you hear your name again and JJ is running towards you.

There’s a look of horror on his face but you’re drifting back out of consciousness again and he’s gone.

~~~

JJ runs toward his girlfriend, his mind racing. He can see her lying on the ground, she’s not conscious and he can see that. But he can also see the bruises that have appeared on her skin, he can see that her shorts are gone and she’s lying bare. He knows this isn’t her doing but he can’t bring together the words to his mind of what this is. He knows she’s been drugged and used. But he doesn’t want to believe it. He wants to pretend this is a nightmare, where he can just wake up.

He’s used to being knocked down, he’s used to the abuse and the horribleness of life but he’d always been able to protect you, up until now.

She’s been... she’s been raped. And he knows it. He rushes to you, tries to cover you as best as possible before he’s running back to the pogues, yelling for their help.

~~~

You wake up again in JJ’s bed. It’s familiar and warm, but the effects of the alcohol have worn off now and your brain is finally working and you’re sewing together the pieces of what had happened.

It comes rushing back in a flash, you don’t remember it actually happening but you remember getting the beer from the Kook, you know that he had grabbed your drink unnecessarily. You remember heading into the trees to pee, and then losing consciousness. And then you remember JJ calling for you, seeing him run to you and you remember the feelings of your body and it clicks in you.

And you let out a rough sob. Bending over the side of the bed and dry heaving as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

The door flies open and your boyfriend emerges in the doorway and you sob again, scrambling away from him. He’s your boyfriend and you love him but you can’t be around him, not with how violated you feel. Not with the way you can’t even look at him, hear his breathing, see the way his body is moving.

This Kook had ruined you, and left you to pick up the pieces. No man or woman should ever do such a thing as this. You’d just never thought that it could ever happen to you.

#tv shows #outer banks #jj #maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #Rudy #rudy pankow

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15-dogs · 4 years ago

Note

hey there i’m in need of more cedric fanfic 🥺 so can i request 11 from prompt list 3 with cedric and a female reader? thank you ❤️

bet on it |c.d.|

pairing: cedric diggory x fem!reader

summary: you were quite good at betting and enjoyed it quite a bit, but no one could have bet how far off your plan could be

prompt: “you owe me a kiss.”

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name

word count: 2043

a/n: ask and you shall receive! may I just say that I literally said “aw” out loud when I read this bc it’s so freaking adorable?? thank you for requesting hope you enjoy!!

“Come on!” you groaned. You loosened your house tie as it suddenly felt as if it were strangling you. You were currently placing bets with the Weasley twins about which student's cauldron would explode first. Fred had picked the genius of the class because he claimed that she was a diamond in the rough of stupidity, George had picked the introvert at the back of the class who had spent more time doodling than taking notes, and you had picked the distracted young witch who was studying for an exam she had next period.

It really was no competition. You were a sucker for a good challenge. That’s truly how you became friends with the twins.

You heard someone calling your name from behind you but you didn’t spare a glance. Then it happened again as you watched your chip’s potion bubble over. You bounced your leg in preparation. Finally, a firm hand grasped you by the shoulder and pulled you around just as a loud popping noise signaled from behind you.

“No!” you shouted, turning around to see the witch covered in spoiled potion. “I missed it.”

“Yeah, but you still won,” grumbled Fred as he and his twin slapped a few coins on the desk.

“Ace,” you said proudly.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been trying to get your attention for at least two minutes now!” Cedric complained from behind you. It was almost pathetic how fast you turned around.

You met his blue eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. You had fallen for Cedric quite some time ago and the twins made it their mission in life to partner you two up. You had disagreed with nearly everything that they had suggested, already having your own little plan for you two would get together. However, through the twins, you two had quickly taken to being friends, spending hours together talking about anything and everything you could. But, you see, he didn’t like you back and that threw an immovable wrench in your plan.

“H-hi,” you stammered. He let out a soft chuckle that had you completely unglued.

“(Y/N),” Fred began, breaking the tension between you and Cedric.

“We were thinking,” George chimed in.

“There’s gonna be a party tonight in the Gryffindor common room-”

“And we were hoping you and pretty boy would come.”

The twins exchanged a small glance before they asked in unison, “Would you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t want to make Cedric feel obligated even though you desperately wanted to go. You floundered for a moment before your body went rigid, Cedric’s hands sliding onto your shoulders and delivering a soft massage.

“We’d love to,” he answered.

“Brilliant!” the twins cried as they got up from their desk. As soon as they left, Cedric sunk into their seat.

“Sorry I answered for you, I just assumed-”

“I wanted to go anyway!” you blurted out. Your face turned red with embarrassment. That stupidly handsome boy always brought out the worst of you.

“Perfect,” he said with a nod. He got up from the chair and took a few steps away before leaning down by your ear. His hot breath fanned against you as he whispered, “See you tonight.”

Merlin, that boy would be the death of you.

You arrived at the party in something more casual than your uniform. Your eyes scanned the room for Cedric but you were torn away when Fred and George tugged you to the side. You stumbled into them with a glare, evoking a small snicker from both of them.

“(Y/N) and Cedric sitting in a tree,” they sang horrendously. You shook your head and covered your ears teasingly.

“You’re hideous!”

“I should hope not,” Cedric said from behind you. Your stomach did a flip as you slowly removed your hands and turned on the balls of your feet, blatantly tuning out the twins’ laughs.

“Not...not you, Gred and Forge...I meant Gred and Forge! Merlin, I did it again.” Your night couldn’t have gotten any more embarrassing. Even Cedric was laughing now.

“What’s so funny?” Fred asked. “Those are our names, aren’t they, Forge?”

“No, you git! I’m Gred, you’re Forge!”

Nope, it got way more embarrassing.

Cedric, a smile still on his face, took your hand in his and pulled you away from the twins. You purposely ignored the kissing noises they made as he dragged you away. You two landed by the refreshments table— well, table was a nicer term for whatever you were standing by. It was simply stacks of boxes lazily thrown together with cups and bottles of pumpkin juice and firewhiskey which you assumed the twins had brought.

“Let me get you a drink,” he offered. You nodded gratefully. You looked around the party as Cedric poured you something, your eyes locking on a game of spin the bottle. Cedric placed the cup in your hand and whispered, “You want to play?”

Merlin, his voice. It was raspy and dreamy and everything you could have ever wanted. It was like a charm in itself, persuading you to say whatever was on your mind.

“Only if you’ll play with me.” You sunk into yourself as the words left your mouth, fearing that Cedric really and truly would run. Instead, Cedric took your hand and escorted you to the betting teens.

A few spins went by, people cheering and whooping at the awkwardness of it. Finally, it was your turn and you had bet Angelina Johnson two galleons that you would go through with it. The offer almost offended you— since when had you ever stepped down from a challenge?

You gave Angelina a playful smirk before spinning the bottle swiftly. It slowed, and slowed, and slowed, until it finally stopped.

No.

This was your worst nightmare and your dream come true all at once. Cedric stared you down, a grin tugging at his lips. You blushed heavily while rubbing your sweaty palms on your clothing.

“I believe now’s the part when we kiss, love,” he teased, the group around you chuckling softly.

So this was really happening. You scooted a little closer so that he was only inches away from you. Everything about him was incredibly powerful up close. His handsomeness was almost hypnotic.

Cedric, noticing that you wouldn’t make the first move, began to lean in. But you couldn’t go through with it. You jumped to your feet and mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, “Not like this.”

And then you were gone.

You were lucky enough to not be in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff which allowed you to avoid Fred, George, and Cedric for as long as you needed to. Unfortunately for you, you only had classes with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs for the day.

Fred and George wouldn’t even tease you about what happened at the party. You knew it looked bad, but was it that bad? Apparently so.

When Cedric appeared in your Charms class, you gasped. You ducked your head and slid into a seat next to a random Hufflepuff. You couldn’t look in his direction for the whole class. You didn’t know what you had expected, for him to not show up to class?

You tried, you really did, to focus on the lecture but it was just not distracting enough from the fact that your longtime crush whom you rejected sat a few seats away from you. You could practically feel his eyes trained on your back.

You decided to fiddle with your quill in hopes of tuning out of everything, and boy did that work. It wasn’t until a familiar voice called your name that you realized how long you had been zoned out— class was over!

“(Y/N)!” Cedric cried. Your eyes snapped up towards him and you froze under his stare. You instantly scrambled to get your things and bolt but Cedric cut you off. “And where do you think you’re going?”

You took a few steps back at his sudden closeness while you sheepishly muttered, “Um, dinner?”

“I don’t think so.” He feigned confusion.

“Is...is that so?” Your mouth felt incredibly dry. He was so close. Every part of you wanted to kiss him but you simply couldn’t, not there, not then.

“I believe you owe me a kiss.”

You shook your head, almost to test if you had heard him right. He seemed to notice how shocked you were and a one sided smirk pulled at his lips. Your body coursed with adrenaline as your heart thundered in your chest. The way he was looking at you had you weak in the knees, it was almost too much to bear.

Cedric took your anxious stammers and glances at his lips as a signal. He tilted his head slightly as he leaned in to kiss you, his eyes slowly fluttering shut. You jumped backwards with a squeak.

“Huh?” he asked, his eyes opening. “Merlin, I’m so sorry. Listen, I was only teasing you. If you don’t actually fancy me then we don’t have to-”

“I fancy you!”

Well, that certainly wasn’t scripted. Cedric just made you talk and talk, abandoning any hope of whatever you had in mind for how you two would end up together.

“You do?”

“Of course I do! I forfeited my first bet for you a few nights ago! Now I’m down two galleons and a reputation!”

Cedric stared at you incredulously before delving into a deep laughter. You didn’t know what was so funny. Cedric wiped a tear from his eye as he asked, “So that’s what that meant? ‘Not like this’ in terms of betting?”

Well now you felt downright guilty. You scuffed your shoes along the floor, avoiding his piercing eyes. You cleared your throat and explained, “No, that’s not what that meant.”

Cedric’s tone softened in a flash. You saw his feet come into frame and then his hand reached for yours. You looked up at him, your cheeks tinged pink. His eyes ran over you as he brushed some hair back with his free hand, his gaze lingering a second too long on your lips.

“What did you mean, then?” he implored, his voice no more than a whisper because it didn’t need to be.

You bit your lip. “I meant that...Merlin, this is embarrassing.” You tried to look away from Cedric but he placed a finger underneath your chin, prompting your head to turn back his way.

“You can tell me. You can always tell me.”

You sighed. How could you explain it to him? You had always imagined that Cedric would ask you out on a date to Hogsmeade in the early fall; when it’s not too cold for heavy jackets but not too warm where you’d be drenched in sweat. He’d take you to the stores, stopping by the tea shop where he’d already know how you liked your tea: breakfast with a little milk. You’d continue to survey the area until you stumbled upon a tree that was beginning to turn with the coming season. You’d stare at it in wonder and turn to see Cedric admiring you, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach. He’d walk towards you under that tree, whisper something sweet and genuine before placing the most gentle of kisses on your lips.

How do you explain that?

“I always imagined things as moments, Ced. That game, that bet? That wasn’t a part of the moments that I had dreamed of.”

Cedric’s thumb went up to your bottom lip, caressing it with care. You let out a breathy exhale at the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

“As badly as you want it to be something you can predict, moments are exactly that: moments. They’re unpredictable. They come and go when you least expect it.”

You opened your eyes to look Cedric over. “What are you saying?”

“Even though we don’t know what moments are going to look like, we should never pass them by.”

Cedric moved his hand to frame your jaw and kissed you. The feeling was almost unreal. It was better than you could have imagined in your fantasies because Cedric was absolutely right; never let moments pass you by, no matter what form they may be.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fred weasley #george weasley

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mikkomacko · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet As Honey 17

Harry's anxious again. Not in the excited kind of way that pumps him up before a fight, and not in the sick, nauseous way that hits him after he has a nightmare. This is new. Instead of fearing the past like usual, he's fearing the future. Because the future he sees is one he never imagined before. He likes it a lot more than the one he used to picture. Instead of endless nights in the ring and girls whose faces he'll never remember, he sees a house. A cute little two story house with a fenced in yard for a dog to run around in. Hopefully being chased by a baby or two. And on the front steps stands one girl who's face he'll remember for the rest of his life. It's y/n he sees, with a wedding band on her finger that twinkles in the sunlight as she scolds Harry for letting their babies get dirty right before dinner.

It's a nice dream, but Harry hates to break routine. Breaking routine means something unplanned has happened, something spontaneous. Something out of the blue. Like getting thrown out of your home on the night you were just supposed to be studying. It scares him. Terrifies him so much he can't sit still. Which is how he ended up sending a text to y/n telling her she didn’t have to come to his fight tonight. Because if she does they’ll end up celebrating after, her on his arm and showing him off to everyone in the bar. And he’ll go home with her and probably have sex with her, and he’ll keep doing it over and over again until he's got this whole new, unfamiliar routine. Until he undoubtedly falls in love with her while she sees him as just a hot boxer who's good company.

"Fuck," Harry curses, tears burning his eyes and throat. Not even two months ago he was arguing with her about her attendance at his matches, and now he's changing his mind. No not changing his mind, because he still wants her there, he just doesn't want what comes after. It's too much, too fast. He's falling in love with her way sooner than he ever thought possible.

Y/n: What are you talking about Harry? I already cancelled plans with Kate to go with you

He winces as he types out his response, knowing it's going to make him an asshole, but he can't think of anything else to say. It's like those dreams in which he's running on buildings and he knows he's going to reach the end and fall but he can't stop.

I don't know. Maybe ask her if she's still free? I just don't want you there tonight

Growling in frustration he throws his phone onto his bed, digging his elbows in his thighs until it hurts. He's got a headache building in his skull, pushing his fingers into his hair and squeezing until the knots send tingles across his scalp. He can't believe he just said that. He can't believe he lied to his y/n and in the worst way possible. It wasn't even a lie to protect her or keep her happy. It's a lie to keep him safe. Even with the regret squeezing around his heart he can't bring himself to apologize or take it back. Not even when her reply hurts more than the panic.

Whatever Harry. Don't call or text me. I don't want to be around you either right now

"Guess who's on baby watch today!" Harry cheers, scooping a bite of mashed bananas into Arlo's waiting mouth. Smacking his lips and letting out a refreshed sigh, Arlo parts his mouth for another bite, tongue falling sloppily to his chin.

"Meeeeeeee!" Y/n sings, dipping a celery stick into her blueberry yogurt and crunching loudly. Harry tries not to scrunch his nose up at her breakfast but it's hard. She's getting a lot of different and odd cravings this pregnancy as opposed to the ones with Arlo. All she ate then were burgers and hot chips. Now she's on a celery and yogurt kick, last week being the end of the artichoke rein, and of course she's still enjoying hot Cheetos, but now she eats them with cheese.

"Mumma's so loud, huh?" Harry whispers, turning his nose up at her as another crunch rings out. She sticks her tongue out at him and Harry’s dramatic gasp at the action makes Arlo giggle. “We’ll be nice though because she’s feeding our mate,” he feeds another bite between Arlo’s lips. “even if she does mean things like stick her tongue out at daddy.”

Arlo hums around another bite, eyebrows pinching together as he looks between Harry and y/n. Head tilted to the side thoughtfully, he settles on Harry. "Daddy."

A smile stretches across his face. "Tha's right bug." Arlo smiles proudly, accepting another bite. Sock covered toes kick Harry's knee when he takes a bite of the baby food, and Arlo's nose scrunches dejectedly.

"Oi!" Harry pinches his little foot, "share with me! M'the one that bought this!"

Arlo turns his cheek to the next bite, stubbornly not wanting the food after Harry’s eaten it. Sighing, Harry twists the lid back on the jar of baby food before rising from the table to put it away. Walking back to the high chair, Harry peels off Arlo's dirty pajama shirt, wiping his face clean with the stained fabric. Arlo grumbles and glares at him, pushing Harry's hands away.

"No!" Arlo shouts at him, eyes welling up with angry tears. By the time Harry's got him clean and the shirt in the laundry room Arlo's crying and trying to wiggle out of his seat. Harry picks him up, patting his back to soothe him but Arlo continues to squirm until Harry puts him down.

Frowning, Harry watches the bub waddle to y/n, arms reaching for her. She grins proudly, setting down her breakfast and happily scooping him up. He curls into her chest, dramatically wailing until y/n pecks his wet cheeks. "I know baby, m'sorry daddy's mean." She coos, pouting but her eyes shine with amusement when they briefly meet Harry's. "S'why you're my favorite boy."

Arlo sniffles, a pleased grin curling his mouth up as he looks over at Harry. Harry scoffs, glaring at Arlo like a child. The baby returns the look, nuzzling into y/n's shoulder as if trying to rub it in Harry's face that he's the favorite boy.

"Tha's not fair," Harry grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/n giggles, rising from her seat and adjusting Arlo to her hip. Harry continues to pout as she pads over to him, cupping his jaw with her free hand.

"You're my favorite man." She comforts, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before heading towards the stairs. Harry's lips turn up, smiling proudly. That is until Arlo peers over y/n's shoulder at Harry and slurs just loud enough, "my mumma."

Today's going to be a long day for Harry.

Harry's fucked up. God he's so fucked up. And he feels bad, really he does, because he's ruined everything for y/n. He can tell by the forced smile on her face as she says goodbye to the last of the guests, a couple guys from the gym, before closing his apartment door behind them. She looks utterly heartbroken as she rips down the birthday banner from the ceiling and throws it to the ground, followed by the streamers. The front door of the complex opens, and Harry waits for his mates for disappear down the street before pushing up from the bench and dragging his feet into the building. The second floor is too short a ride, he thinks bitterly, stomach flipping with nerves. He feels shitty but he made this happen.

Y/n is stabbing at balloons with a knife from his kitchen when he opens the door, the loud pop making him jump. He hangs his hoodie and kicks off his shoes and avoids looking up at the party decorations that y/n is angrily destroying.

"Hi," he mutters quietly, standing in the entryway like a new visitor. A visitor in his own apartment because that's what y/n does. She comes in and she takes over everything he's ever known. She leaves her mark with every step. In every corner of the gym, on every bench by the ring, on every thread of his bed sheets, on every tissue of his muscles, on every fiber of his heart. Maybe that's what he loves most about her, her ability to take over. He's always had to be in control because when he's not he fucks up and does something stupid, but maybe it'd be a nice change in pace to just hand himself over to her. Not that he really gave himself the chance. As soon as he started to give into her, he took it all back and now he's hurt her.

'Better her than me,' he tries to remind himself when she comes to stand in front of him. She's wearing a pretty pink dress that she knows he loves, and she might even be wearing something prettier under it as well, but he's fucked up all chances at seeing it. His chest aches but he repeats his mantra. 'Better her than me.'

"You're late Harry," she says emotionless, arms crossing over her chest. "like three hours late"

He hums, scratching the top of his head as if he forgot. "S'really that late? Fuck me." The laugh that leaves her lips is cold and mocking.

"Yeah fuck you Harry," she steps close enough to shove something into his chest "you knew about tonight. I've been planning it since December and you just skipped it? Do you know how humiliating that was?"

She walks away from him, disappearing around the corner into his bedroom. Harry takes a minute to examine the "birthday boy" sash and party hat she threw at him. His knees tremble as does his resolve. He hasn't had a birthday party in years. Not since his father died and y/n knows that. That's why she went out of her way to throw one for him. "A good birthday memory for you baby," she had said back when he first told her about it, and he had blushed and accepted her tender kisses like a child in desperate need of attention. Or care. In desperate need of someone to care for him.

"I mean," he clears his throat when she comes back, her coat thrown over her shoulders. "s'just a birthday. My birthday. Not like I missed yours or anything."

She pauses, fingers freezing on the buttons of her jacket. "Are you serious Harry? Are you really fucking saying that to me?"

He shrugs, tossing the items in his hand onto the dining table. Trying not to look at the sash, he focuses on her.

“Is this some scheme for attention?” She sighs, and her shoe taps against his floor anxiously. She’s trying to hold herself back from yelling at him, and the thought makes him want to cry. Even when he’s hurting her, she won’t do the same to him. She really is too good for him.

"What are ya talking about?"

"You fight with me to go to your matches and then tell me you don't want me there. You complain about your birthday, and being the dumbass that I am, I care enough about you to try and actually give you a good day, and you don't even fucking care. After you practically sobbed at the sight of the invitation! What do you want from me Harry?" She's begun to lose her resolve, eyes watering and lip quivering. Her shouting actually gives away the hurt she was trying to hide from him, and he wishes he hadn't pushed her this far. He hates hearing her hurting especially when he's the cause.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, he gnaws at his bottom lip. He knows what he needs to say, what he needs to do. He's been thinking about it for a week and a half, but the words still get stuck in his throat. He should take it as a sign that it's because he doesn't actually want to say this. Instead he uses it as a reason to push himself. It hurts because she's come in a changed him. She's going to hurt him if he doesn't hurt her first. "I want to break up."

The silence that follows weighs heavy on his chest. Peering up through his eyelashes, fully prepared to see y/n crying or glaring at him, he bawks at the sight instead. She's not trembling with rage or melting with tears, no, she's smiling. A cruel, twisted smile but still beautiful. Harry looks up at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Isn't she going to yell at him? Scream? Hit him? Tell him to fuck off again?

"Is that really what you want Harry?" She asks softly, voice not matching the painful grin on her lips. He wishes he knew what she was thinking. He wants to know what part of breaking up has got her lips curved up because he feels like he just stabbed himself in the chest.

He opens his mouth to reaffirm his words but he's cut off by her. "Don't lie to me either Harry. I can handle you lying about not wanting me at your fight, but not this."

That lump is back in his throat, catching his lie and holding onto it for dear life. He doesn't want to break up. He wants to see her every day, kiss her before every fight, wake up next to her every morning. But he doesn't want to get hurt. He's so scared of being hurt, and now he's mad because of course she knows when he's lying. She already knows him better than anyone else does.

"Stop saying my name please." He requests quietly, because it hurts to hear it from her. It falls out of her lips comfortably, rings softly with a tenderness no one's ever spoken it with before, and he loves it. Love to hear her say it.

"Than stop running away from me."

He breaks a little at the truth, tears rimming his eyes and jaw clenching to keep from sniffling. She knows exactly what he's doing. She always knows, and he has no excuse so he stays silent. With a quiet sigh, she continues to button her coat and throw her purse over her shoulder. Her footsteps echo throughout the apartment as she walks over to him, stopping a few inches from being in his arms.

"I just want you to be happy Harry," there's his name again, sounding so loving in his ears "so you come find me when you're miserable, okay?" Harry's knows that's exactly what he'll do but he denies it, shaking his head softly. "You better have a really good apology too." Her lips press a soft kiss to his cheek, free hand cupping his jaw for a mere second. Then she's walking around him, slipping out of the door, and leaving him by himself.

With a cement-like weight on his ankles, Harry drags his feet to his bedroom, crumbling to his knees with sobs as he takes in the room. She's decorated it with dozens of candles and roses, petals sprinkled romantically on the bed. Sitting among the forgotten petals, Harry can't help but think about how much he loves her.

Gemma is really nice to be around. With Harry and Anne gone, and the tension of trying to keep everything civil forgotten, y/n realizes that she could be really good friends with her. Maybe even actual sisters. And she really loves Arlo.

“I can’t believe how much he looks like Harry.” She breathes out, shaking her head in disbelief. Arlo, who was walking circles around the coffee table, freezes, looking around expectantly after recognizing his father’s name. His disappointed frown falls on y/n when no sign of Harry comes up, and he's stumbling over to her with his arms outstretched.

"It's a bit freaky huh?" She laughs, lifting Arlo up onto her thighs. He squishes as close as he can to her, his tummy pressing into her swollen one and head dropping against her chest.

Gemma nods, smiling softly at the little boy. His frown deepens, dramatically whimpering and turning to hide his face. "Harry used to do that too," she comments "but with our dad. He was always really clingy and attached to our mum. He'd whine and be grumpy whenever we were left without her."

Y/n strokes her fingers over Arlo's little back, giggling when he shivers and gurgles into her tee-shirt. "This one's always a little grumpy," y/n says, "even when he's with Harry. If Harry does something he doesn't like he'll be so hurt with him."

"Really?" Gemma asks, eyebrows raising in surprise. "I didn't think Arlo could ever be mean to Harry."

"He likes to guilt trip him," she explains, goosebumps rising on her skin when Arlo's tiny fingers begin to rub over her belly, tickling her. "Like the day after fights if Harry's a little beat up Arlo gets mad and will fight with him when he tries to ice bruises and stuff. He's getting into a hitting phase now so he'll smack Harry too."

"And then give him those big green eyes huh?"

Giggling, y/n nods. She thinks Arlo's realized how affected Harry is by his baby having his eyes and he definitely uses it to his advantage. There's a reason Arlo's been eating nothing but bananas and peas this week and it's that puppy look he's perfected.

"Speaking of Harry's fight," Gemma clears her throat quietly, "do you think it'd be okay if I brought someone to the match tomorrow?"

Taken aback, it takes y/n a moment to respond. "Of course. I think Harry would love that actually." He'll feel like Gemma's showing him off, bragging about him and y/n knows that will really make him happy. "Who is it? If you don't mind me asking?"

Gemma's cheeks blossom pink, and her lips curve up shyly. "This boy that lives in the building with us. We've talked a few times and I really want to ask him out. Heard him mention how much he loves sports so I figured this would be cool."

Y/n can't help but beam, being a hopeless romantic. There's just something so sweet about seeing someone blush over their crush. She's about to grill her for more questions when the baby presses against her tummy, wiggling around and Arlo let's out a shocked grumble. His head flies up from where it was resting on her, eyes wide and curious as he glares at her belly.

"That's the baby Arlo," she tells him, peeling up her shirt so he can press his hands against her skin. Tentatively, he rubs his fingers into his brothers temporary home, tilting his head when he feels more movement. "he's just saying hi."

"Oh that's so darling." Gemma mumbles, giggling when Arlo presses his face into y/n's belly and grunts nonsense at the baby. This time he doesn't move away when the baby kicks at his palm, instead just mumbles again. Then he looks up at y/n, nose scrunched up in annoyance.

"Baby." He murmurs to her, struggling a bit on the a, but still pronouncing the word Harry's been working on with him for a few days. She's not sure if he's letting her know that there's a baby in there or if he's complaining about the baby, but either way she leans forward to kiss his nose. Just like Harry does when she kisses him on his nose, he shivers and then the pinch on his nose melts away and he smiles at her.

"You better not be complaining mister," she warns him, "because daddy will be so hurt if you get mad at him for this." Gemma laughs, and Arlo gurgles, and y/n hopes Harry's feeling as happy as she is.

It's weeks before Harry can drag himself to y/n's apartment. He told himself to stop counting the days since he last saw her, yet he knows it's been exactly 17. 17 days of him sitting like a corpse in his apartment, doing the bare minimum at the gym, and doing even worse at fights. He got used to seeing her at them and knowing she wouldn't ever be back unless he went to get her really threw him off. After losing three fights, the latest of which actually ended in him blacking out, he knows he was stupid to break up with her because it hurts a lot more to not have her with him than it would if she broke his heart.

Which is how he found himself on Saturday afternoon in front of her apartment door, sitting on the doorstep because she's not home and she hasn't answered his calls or texts. Fifteen minutes of knocking and pleading for her to open the door, followed by her neighbor popping out to tell him to shut up because she went out, and he's been huddled against the wooden door for about a half an hour, shivering in the cold.

It feels like a mirage when he finally spots her climbing the cement stairs, head shooting up to look at her and his sore neck prickles in pain. She's wrapped up in the same coat she was wearing the night of his birthday party, a maroon beanie he used to steal from her on her head, and a pair of knee-high boots that echo throughout the platform. Harry scrambles to his feet, stumbling when his eyes go temporarily black and his head pounds.

Her eyes meet his, and if she’s surprised to see him, it doesn’t show. "You look awful." Is her greeting, eyeing the split above his eyebrow and the dark bruises littering the expanse of his face. Harry takes the cardboard pizza box from her hands, the warmth of it's contents soothing his frozen fingers.

"Had my ass handed to me last night," he murmurs in explanation, grateful when she finally gets her door open and let's him follow her in. Even after how terribly he treated her, she's still willing to let him in. "deserve it though." He closes the door behind him, toeing off his Nike's in a hopeful move that she'll let him stay long enough to not need them.

Y/n makes a noise of agreement, removing her jacket and beanie and tossing them into a heap on the couch. She fits herself into a chair at the small dining table, unzipping her boots and Harry takes that as a chance for him to set the pizza on the wood top and sit next to her. Once her boots are off, she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting.

Harry can't bring himself to look at her as he speaks. "I got scared," he admits shyly, "and I know that's not excuse to hurt you but I didn't know what else to do."

"You could've just talked to me," she replies, her previously emotionless tone opening up to show hints of compassion. Harry frowns, upset at how easy it sounds. Speaking. Simple. Actually doing it? Not so much. Y/n must sense this, because she changes the subject. "What were you scared of Harry?"

He knows the answer to this. He's practiced it all day knowing he'd need it to win her back. "How I feel about you." Glancing up at her, he’s relieved to see a bit of warmth radiating off of her. Fueled by her understanding, he continues. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re on my mind every minute of everyday. And night.

“I can’t even fight anymore without you there. If I’m not fighting for you, what’s the purpose?” Y/n has uncrossed her arms, leaning forward on her knees to be closer to him.

“Because it’s something you love.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not like you. Got my ass kicked last night because I couldn’t stop looking for you. When I didn’t find you I just gave up.” In a bold move he tentatively reaches out for her hands, eyeing her for any signs of discomfort. Her gaze remains warm as he intertwines their fingers.

"Is that why you're here?" She asks incredulously, "To give you?"

Harry immediately shakes his head, scooting closer to the edge of his seat to be near her. "M'here to fight for you. I made a mistake, a big one, and I want to take it back. I want you back...if you'll have me." He doesn't shy away from her intense stare, ignoring the nerves fluttering around his stomach. He can trust her, he doesn't need to hide from her. "I won't ever hurt you again, I promise darling."

"Pain is a part of life Harry," y/n murmurs as her hands release his to cup his face. "it's going to happen whether we want it to or not. We're going to hurt each other but it doesn't have to be heartbreak and it doesn't have to mean the end of us.

"We'll fight, and we'll piss each other off, and we'll hurt each other, but you're the only person I want to fight with."

His heart leaps in his chest, and despite how hard he tries to stop it, his lips curl up. "You still want me?"

Y/n presses a sweet kiss to his lips, not protesting when he swiftly pulls her into his lap. "I'll always want you Harry Styles. Always."

One truth. One honest truth. Harry feels like he has a million but they all get caught in his throat when he tries to speak. He just needs one though, one that'll make him feel a little less heavy.

Dr. Wells waits patiently, a kind smile on his lips while Harry racks his brain for something meaningful. It's Anne's fidgeting next to him that finally spikes his thought process. Clearing his throat, he eyes her out of his peripheral vision.

"I feel like I can't trust you."

The words hang heavy in the air, but Harry doesn’t regret them. He already feels lighter, relieved to have finally admitted it to her face. Letting out a pleased sigh, he relaxes back into the couch, unable to stop the tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Anne nods, looking to Dr. Wells for help. “Very good Harry,” he compliments, “Anne, trust is very important to Harry. I believe the first step to him welcoming anyone into his life, is absolute trust. If you would even like to hope at healing the relationship with him, you need to show him that he can trust you.”

Anne murmurs something else and Dr. Wells expands on his statement about Harry as if he weren’t there. He doesn’t mind it though. It gives him time to detach, to just think. Trust. How did he learn to trust again? He thinks of Nick, who fed and housed him. Liam, who trained and supported him. And y/n, who’s always loved him, mended him after fights, held him when he cried, stood by him when he felt like he was falling. Reliable. He’s always been able to rely on them. Even when he did all he could to push them away, they stayed with him.

His heart sinks to his stomach at the revelation, dejectedly looking at Anne. He trusts those that stand by him, even in his lowest moments. And she didn’t do that. She left him when he needed her. No matter how much he wants to trust her, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to.

For some reason, that insight takes more off his chest than his truth did.

Y/n's fingers are familiar and soothing as they stick tape around his knuckles. Harry watches her fondly, elbows dug into his thighs that are parted around her own. Liam and Nick are chatting behind her, but Harry can't bring himself to listen. Placing a delicate kiss to his pinky, she moves to grab his other hand. Harry flexes his fist, testing out the tape and nodding in approval when he realizes it's been perfected. Not that he'd expect anything less from her.

"Feels like it's been awhile since we've been here." Y/n says softly, eyes meeting his for a brief second through her eyelashes. "Just you and me."

Harry smiles cheekily. "And our unborn child of course."

She chuckles. "Of course," tearing the tape around his middle finger, she smooths the edge down "but you know what I mean."

Harry does know what she means. Despite Gemma and Anne being gone for a few weeks, they've had few moments where it felt like Harry and y/n again. Nodding, he pulls his hand from her hold, cupping her jaw tenderly. Pads of his thumbs brushing over the soft skin of her cheeks, Harry whispers, "I love you so much, ya know that?"

Y/n wraps her fingers around his wrists, pressing her lips against his inner forearm. "I love you just as much, if not more Harry." He leans forward to slot his lips against hers, their kiss being brief but lingering, even after they've separated. "And m'so fucking proud of you."

His lips curl up cockily, eyes twinkling, and if it weren't for the weight of the wedding rings around her neck and his baby in her stomach, she'd be back in the day they first met. "Mm how proud of me?" Harry whispers teasingly, nosing along her jawline. "Gonna show me? Show me how good I am?"

"You know how good you are."

Her words pull a deep chuckle out of his chest, pulling back to grin boyishly at her. "Could use a reminder darling." Simpering she pecks his mouth and cheeks, working her way up his jaw until her lips brush his ear.

"You're gonna have to earn it."

Harry's eyes flutter shut, eyebrows knitting together almost painfully and his fingers dig into her waist. "Yeah?" He murmurs gruffly, "gonna make me show off for you darling?"

She hums, vibrations tickling his sensitive skin. "You used to love showing off for me baby-"

"Still do." He cuts in, chuckling.

"and there's a big crowd out there. Show them who's the best, Harry. And then I'll spend all night reminding you."

A shiver runs up his spine, Harry blinking heavily and a tremor in his breath when y/n pulls back, smiling sweetly at him. "I am the best, huh?"

"Always."

He gives her that shit eating grin, contrasting the wicked curl of his mouth with a tender kiss to her forehead. "Should get out there," he mumbles, "gotta make sure I'm good enough to take home the prettiest girl in this joint."

Y/n nods, and Harry rises from the couch, taking her hand as he pulls her up from the coffee table. He locks their fingers together, pulling her towards the door but she tugs him back. Looking over his shoulder at her, he quirks a confused eyebrow.

"You're more than good enough Harry."

Y/n loves Gemma's date, so much so that she's considering inviting him to every match rather than Gemma herself. From the moment y/n joined them in their seats as Harry took the ring he's had this explosive energy that typically isn't present at these matches. He shook her hand with a beaming smile and a quick rush of "Nice to meet ya love, I'm Niall! Heard a lot about that Harry of yours! Saw him on TV once..." and he's been chatting about Harry ever since. Not that she minds of course. She loves talking about Harry.

And she's not the only one enjoying Niall's hype. By the way Harry's fighting, bouncing on his toes, ducking and diving around his opponent with ease, throwing hits packed with more strength than she's seen from him in awhile, she knows that Harry's buzzing from the praise. Every move he makes earns some shout or cheer from Niall, who then either high fives or lightly chest bumps y/n. Of course their celebrating brought Nick to his feet as well, hollering at Harry as well. And the rest of the crowd followed, including Gemma and Anne.

She knows Harry's buzzing with it. She can feel it radiating off of him, pulsing through his veins as he moves around the ring with grace. Like usual, he lives for the praise, the smirk on his face growing with every holler of his name. Harry gets his opponent pinned in the corner, rapidly firing punches against the man's shielding arms. Over the man's shoulder she can see Harry's face, flush cheeks and creased forehead lined with sweat. The chant of his name grows louder, rattling the stands as Harry's hit grow even more ferocious. Hands clasped in front of her, gnawing on her lip in excitement, y/n is bouncing with nerves when Harry catches the man's jaw, sending him to the ground in a heap of bruised and sweaty limbs.

The crowd around her is deafening, and through the chaos of Niall and Nick wrapping her in a hug while they sob with pride, she meets Harry's pleased gaze and smug smirk. Even when the ref throws Harry's fist into the air, his eyes remain on her, always on her.

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #harry styles au #dad harry styles #daddy harry #boxer harry styles #boxer harry #husband harry styles #husband harry #angst #one direction #harry styles imagine #harry imagine

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chickenmcfly1 · 3 years ago

Text

Fireworks (McFly July Day 4)

here’s the tooth rotting fluff that I came up with for today lol (under cut)

“I’m sorry” Marty says for what’s probably the hundredth time in the last hour.

“Marty, I promise you, it’s fine, no big deal,” Jennifer responds, just as patiently as she said it the first time.

Still unable to shove down the guilt churning in his stomach, Marty buries his face in Einstein's shaggy fur to avoid facing Jennifer. He knows she’s wearing that kind and understanding, but also kind of worried and sad expression that Jennifer looks at Marty with all too often these days, and Marty doesn’t know if he can face that look without going to pieces. He already feels like the world’s shittiest boyfriend. Seeing that will just add to it.

A loud whistling sound fills the night and knowing what follows, Marty tightens his death grip around the hot water bottle that he’s been clutching to his chest like a lifeline, leaning closer to Einstein and Jennifer.

A series of booming pops and bangs explode in the sky and Einie whimpers miserably, the urge to flee and hide underneath something barely trumped by the sheepdog’s loyalty to his terrified second owner. Marty notices none of that though, going rigid at the sound of the fireworks, his spine turning to ice as Marty screws his eyes shut and clutches harder at the hot water bottle, moving even closer to Jen and Einie, desperately needing the contact.

It’s just fireworks, It’s just fireworks for the Fourth of July, you’re okay. You're fine.

But no matter how many times Marty repeats the reassurances in his head, the urge to flee because someone coming after him, to play dead so he can disarm Mad Dog and run, or to burst into tears and run up the stairs and get to Doc to safety immediately because holy shit the Lybians are here and Doc is going to die and nothing will ever be okay again is so, so insanely strong.

With the increased panic, Marty’s breathing pace picks up and both Jennifer and Einstein quickly notice, Einie moving to rest his front paws against Marty’s chest, putting a comforting a grounding weight by Marty’s rapidly beating heart, and Jennifer moving her arm that had been wrapped around Marty’s waist to his back, rubbing circles on the denim Marty’s wearing.

“Sorry,” Marty says again, feeling like absolute shit.

He and Jennifer had been going to the Hill Valley Independence Day fireworks together since freshman year and Marty and Jen had both assumed their tradition was still on for this year.

Before the show, Marty had picked her up, taken her to get dinner and they’d laid out their blankets, cuddled in each other's arms as the show began. The night had been perfect right up until the first firework went off.

At the first boom, Marty’s whole body had gone fully rigid and he’d felt a fear so intense, Marty could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating all together for a full second before launching into Marty’s throat and beating so fast Marty was sure it would explode.

All it had taken was one firework and suddenly, Marty was alone and terrified in a million different years and incorrect timelines all at once, the guilt of screwing up the delicate balance of the universe and pressure of the entire space time continuum on his shoulders as he barely escaped the jaws certain death. The next firework had gone off before Marty could even get another breath in and the consecutive popping noises had transported Marty right back to his literal worst nightmare, watching Doc get obliterated as he stood alone in the parking lot of Twin Pines Mall.

Jennifer had taken one look at Marty’s ashen, shell-shocked face and immediately put two and two together, grabbing Marty’s hand and weaving him through the crowds and back to the truck. Marty hadn’t really been much help, stumbling behind Jen, heaving and gasping and then trembling in the passenger seat, the entire ride to Doc’s.

Doc had pushed a hot water bottle into his hands and ushered him to the basement as soon as Jennifer had led him through the door, then quickly went back up the stairs, promising to return as quickly as possible with more things to help Marty relax, rambling about how Einie was afraid too, so Marty didn’t need to feel bad.

Before Jennifer could open her mouth to accept Marty’s 101st apology, a young voice cuts through the tense silence.

“Marty, Father told me to inform you he’d be down in two or three minutes for sure; he’s waiting for water to boil so he can get you a more adequate sized heating device,” Jules announced, climbing down the basement stairs.

“He’s bringing food too,” Verne adds from behind his brother, mouth stuffed with one of the red white and blue snacks he had begged Marty to get during their afternoon grocery store excursion, “Me and Jules brought games too so we can all stay down here and have fun with you until the fireworks are over. Do you wanna play Monopoly? Dad said you were sad and it always cheers me up! But I don’t exactly know how to play . . . Dad usually just lets me make my own rules,” Verne rambled excitedly, not even noticing the eye roll his last sentence elicits from his older brother.

“Sure,” Marty croaks, scooting closer to Jen and Einie to make room for Jules and Verne in the little corner of the basement he’s stuffed himself in, “thanks guys,”

“Yay!” Verne responds, pulling pieces out of the box, “Can I be on Jennifer’s team? She’s smart and I wanna win this time!”

Verne trails off, not waiting for a response before excitedly setting up the game. Marty watches, grateful for the distraction, however little.

Every firework still sets off a terrifying panic response in Marty, but with Jules and Verne’s happy chatter filling the air, and Clara’s presence being added to their little congregation, Marty finds it’s a little more manageable.

When Doc comes down the stairs a few moments later, a little bit of the ice in Marty’s chest melts, the part of his mind screaming that Doc was dead at every single firework finally relaxing.

“Here,” Doc says, handing Marty another hot water bottle and draping a heavy, grounding blanket over the teenager’s shoulders. Doc’s eyes linger on Marty for a couple extra seconds as Marty takes the bottle, clearly gauging his mental state and wearing the same expression he wears when looking at a malfunctioning machine. The one that says ‘I wish I knew how I could just take away all your problems.’ Still, Doc doesn’t ask any questions.

Their relationship has always been that way. Doc never pushes Marty to talk about his problem unless Marty is ready, but when he is ready, he offers undivided attention.

“Thanks Doc,” Marty says, adjusting the blanket and giving his friend a smile that hopefully says don’t worry, I’m okay.

Doc gives Marty’s shoulder a little squeeze before taking a seat next to him, smiling adoringly at his family.

“Now, who wants to play Monopoly?”

#lol I wrote this in like 15 mins #marty mcfly #doc and marty #Doc Brown #McFly July #bttf #Back to the Future #Clara Clayton #Jules Brown #Verne Brown

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mtherhino · 3 years ago

Text

One side, Two lives

Chapter ten

Is he ok?

First Previous Next

Warnings: slight gore, panicked attack, and mention of eating disorder

Where the heck am I? Virgil thought as he took in his surroundings. He couldn’t see anything except himself, as I he was standing in a pit of nothingness. He tried to to walk around but the blackness seemed to go on forever so he started to panic. Where a I? How do I get out of here? Where are the others?! Are they here two? I have to find them!

Suddenly the anxious side heard a scream from behind him in the darkness. That sounds like Roman! He thought. He turned around and there stood Roman, on his knees and grasping at his stomach which confused the other side. Why is he grabbing at his stomach? Never mind I need to get his attention.

“Roman!” Virgil shouted to the other, but the prince didn’t acknowledge him, he didn’t even seem to hear him. This in no way helped Virgils anxiety.

“Roman! Princy can you hear me!” He shouted again, but just like before the creative side didn’t seem to even know he was there. Out of no where Virgil heard a dark chuckle.

He turned his gaze away from the prince and towards the noise. The shape of a person had materialized from the darkness, glimmering in a golden light and having what seemed to be a cape dragging behind him. The whatever it was approached Roman’s fallen from, laughing the whole time.

“You see? Your nothing but a weakling, and theres no place for anything like that here.” Virgil watched in terror as the person drew a sword and used it to tilt Roman’s head up to look at him. The side had tears running down his face and blood leaking from his mouth. Why is he crying? Why is he bleeding!? Virgil thought.

He looked back down to the prince’s hand and saw that the normally pure white outfit was now stained in blood, the red liquid was still spreading rapidly. Virgils eyes grew wide with horror. The golden being ‘tsk’ at the downed side and kicked him in the stomach making him cough up blood. No! Stop! You’re going to kill him! That’s what Virgil wanted to say, but as soon as he tried to scream black tendrils wrapped around his mouth and kept him quite.

Never the less the anxious side tried to run forward to stop everything but he couldn’t. He looked down and his feet where somehow stuck to the ground. He tried to pull himself free but it became clear that it was no use. He looked back at the scene in front of him and saw the figure start to raise his sword.

“You really are worthless. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a side, a useless nothing, and you’re especially no hero.” As the thing said that, it swung it sword down.

“ROMAN!”

Virgil jolted up from his bed, his hand outstretched like he was trying to reach for something. His forehead was covered in sweat and he was sure that if he looked in a mirror his face would be whiter than a ghost’s. He brought his hand to his chest and he found his heart was beating faster than he thought it ever had. Virgil took a deep sigh and tried to calm down, it didn’t work very well. He looked over at his clock and saw that it was around 3 in the morning.

What the heck was that? Virgil wondered to himself. He couldn’t remember much of his nightmare but he remembered that he was more scared than he had ever been in his life. Just trying to remember what happened made the side start hyperventilating. Ok. I need to calm down or else I might give Thomas a panic attack. Virgil started taking deep breaths and began to calm down as he repeated his 4 ,7, 8 breathing exercise.

Once he was calmed downed he realized that he probably wasn’t going to be able to go to sleep for a while and flopped back onto his bed in frustration. The one night I actually tried to get more sleep. Just great. The side pulled out his phone from under his pillow and grabbed his headphones from his bed side table. This wasn’t the first time he was woken up by nightmares, but this time had definitely been the worst.

He put on his headphones and picked up his phone. He went though a few different playlist before he finally settle on just clicking shuffle on My Chemical Romance. He ended up on Mama and smiled. This song was slightly calmer than most of the groups songs. He went to tumbler and started scrolling though it, humming the lyrics as he looked at post. After about an hour of looking at memes and funny videos Virgil found himself starting to dose off, the residents of the nightmare going to the back of his mind.

When Virgil woke up it was too Patton calling him down for breakfast. He groaned as he got out of bed and change into his usual style. He pulled on his signature jacket as he went out the door even though he knew that it was crazy to wear a jacket on almost any day in Florida. Virgil walked down the long hallway eyeing every corner suspiciously in case Remus decided to just pop up or something. Because of this he wasn’t looking where he was going and ran straight into someone’s back and fell down.

“Virgil? Are you ok” a familiar voice said. The anxious side looked up and saw that it was non other than Roman who he just happened to run into. The memories of his dream flashed in his mind and he looked at Romans stomach glad to see that there was no kind off blood staining on the t-shirt he was wearing. He shook his head a bit to clear the image of the fallen prince in his mind.

“Yah, I’m fine Princy.” Virgil said. Roman extended his hand to Virgil and pulled him up.

“You need to watch where your going, wouldn’t want you falling down the stairs or something.” Roman said with a chuckle. The smaller side smiled softly at the sound but pretended to cough into his sleeve when Roman looked back at him.

“Kiddos! Come get your breakfast before it gets old!” That had snapped Virgil out of his embarrassed fake coughing fit and the two started heading towards the kitchen. When they entered they found Logan at the table reading a comic book? Roman turned to Virgil and raised an eyebrow in question. The anxious side shrugged and went to go sit down at the table. He took a closer look at the cover and saw that it was a horror comic and that only confused him more.

“What are you reading Lo? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you pick up a comic book before” Virgil asked. Logan finally looked up from his book and he seemed kinda embarrassed.

“Well um, technically it’s a graphic novel and uh Remus asked me to read it over for him.” Logan said while he adjusted his glasses, and if Virgil wasn’t mistaken, he was ever so slightly blushing. As the gears in his head spun the smaller side started to smirk. It definitely seems like this guy has a crush Remus. Although it may not look it, Virgil didn’t actually hate the duke. They in no way got along, and Virgil didn’t trust the creative side as far as he could though him, but he didn’t necessarily hate the gremlin of a man.

So, with this in mind, the mischievous raccoon in a jacket decided that as long as he was here, he might as well mess with people.

“I didn’t know you and Remus where such good friends.” Roman, who had sat down after getting a plate of food for himself from the kitchen, tried his absolute hardest not to burst out laughing as Logan stuttered and rambled to try and explain himself.

“He simply assisted me in conducting some research the other day and I wanted to return the kind favor.” Once more the prince and emo character shared a look. Virgil decided that was enough teasing for now. You have to spread out the torture to make it effective after all. So instead of continuing to make fun of his friend he decided he should finally grab some breakfast.

“Whatever you say Lo.” The former dark side walked into the kitchen to see Patton serving up a plate that he assumed was for Logan.

Today Patton had made some scrambled eggs, a few links of sausages, and some toast he was currently adding crafters jam to. Patton turned around to face his dark strange son and smiled widely.

“Hey kiddo! I made a plate for you if that’s alright. If theres anything you want to change about it go right ahead!” The fatherly side said in his usual cheerful tone. Unfortunate this kinda made the smaller of the two freak out a bit.

What if I don’t like whats on the plate? I can’t just mess with it Patton already put in the work to make the food and if I put any of it back it will look like I don’t like his cooking which of course into true but what if he thinks that? Luckily his worries were put to rest when he saw his plate had equal proportions of everything just how he liked it. He breathed a sigh of relief and went to go sit back down with the others.

When he got back to table Roman and Logan were arguing about some sort of play but the conversation was now going too fast for Virgil to actually pay attention to it.

“Don’t you dare say Hamilton wasn’t a good musical in my presence!”

“I’m just saying its historically inaccurate! For one thing the Skylar sisters did have an older brother so the part in the musical where Angelica sings about having to bring the family glory is false. Also she was already wed to a man before she met Alexander so she couldn’t marry him if even if she wanted to.” Logan reasoned in his calm yet frustrated ‘everyone-is-being-an-idiot-except-for-me’ tone of voice.

“Of course it isn’t entirely accurate to the real character. In theater you have to add a bit of drama to express the characters feeling in the scene better!” The royal side tried to explain while he waved his arm around in the air, surprisingly not hitting anything or anyone. Luckily before the two could continue Patton walked into the room carrying both his and Logan’s plate.

“Ok kiddos I think thats enough arguing for now, go ahead and eat instead of bickering please.” Patton said in a hopeful voice. The two sides grumbled a bit to themselves but did start eating . Virgil looked over at Romans plate and saw that he once again had a lot less food on his plate than the rest of them. He had about two mouthfuls of eggs on his plate, one small sausage and half of a jam covered toast.

Doesn’t he need to eat more than the rest off us? I mean he goes adventuring all the time so he probably burns all the calories he gets from the meals Patton makes. Virgil pondered all this while he ate. If he was being honest he didn’t think he had ever seen Roman get seconds unless people insisted on it. Thats kinda concerning, what if he isn’t eating right because off stress? But why would Princy be stressed he’s the living personification of having a dreamy good life. Could something be wrong and we just haven’t noticed it yet?is he ok? Luckily he was broken from his thoughts as someone called his name.

“Virgil? Are you ok? You’ve been so pacing out for a while now, everything alright?” Roman said as he put a comforting hand on the anxious sides shoulder. Virgil gave the royal a small smile and took a deep breath. I’m just overthinking things. Roman’s fine, he would have come to us if he had a problem.

“Yah I’m fine Princy, just got lost in thought that’s all.” The creative side smiled at that and went back to eating his small plate of food.

After everyone was done with breakfast they all went back to their own rooms, Logan still reading the graphic novel as he walked. Once Virgil got to his room he threw himself onto his extremely messy bed and was about to pull up something to watch on YouTube when he heard a knock on his door.

What the, I was just with everyone, if they needed to ask me something wouldn’t they have asked me then? The purple side sighed and got up to open the door, only to find the hallway completely empty?

“Um, ok, anyone there?” Virgil said while he stuck his head out the doorway.

“Yup! I’m right here!” A choice shouted from behind him.

“Ahhh!” The smaller side screeched and accidentally slammed the door shut. There now sitting on his bed kicking his feet, was Remus. He wasn’t wearing his usual outfit for videos but instead a ripped up tank to and some black sweatpants.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” The anxious side said in an accusing tone.

“I was bored and decided that I might as well annoy you for a while.” The taller of the two said with a shrug.

Virgil groaned and destroyed any hope of having a peaceful day from his mind.

“Why in the world did you knock? You haven’t had any real manners since we were kids.” The purple clad side said as he sat down on a beanbag that he had in the corner. The duke shrugged.

“It was part of my grand plan to distract you so that I could scare you even better.” The insane side said with a sharp tooth smile. Before Virgil could make a retort the door burst opened. There stood Princy in a t-shirt and shorts, his hair looking slightly disheveled and with a sword in hand. He for some reason also looked a bit bigger than normal but Virgil discarded the thought as the lighting being weird.

“Virgil! What’s wrong! What do I need to fight!” The red side exclaimed.

“Hey Ro! I just scared emo over here and he screamed like I had ripped out his guts or something.” The duke said as he threw his arm around his brother. Virgil was kinda surprised. Last time he had seen the twins interact Roman was out cold in seconds but now they were talking like they were best friends. Well I guess they are siblings after all. The smallest in the room said.

“Oh, ok then. Virgil do you need any assistance?” Roman asked. The former dark side thought for a minute and figured that he could handle Remus by himself, he had enough experience dealing with his craziness growing up.

“Yah Romano I’ll be fine.” Virgil said with a wave. Roman nodded but not without a sigh at the nick name and walked out.

“Oh but before I go,” the prince turned around and glared and the both of them, “if you two kill each other I will find a way to somehow resurrect you and get you both scolded by Patton.” And with that Roman left with a royal wave. The two remaining sides gave each other a look, Virgil’s one of distrust and Remus’s one of mischief.

“Sooooo,” Remus said as he jumped back onto the bed, “you like my brother huh?” Virgil’s face turned bright red.

“I-I don’t know what your talking about!” The now highly nervous side shouted. This only made the duke chortle.

“Chill out, I’m not gonna tell him, it will be a lot more fun that way.” Remus said with a grin. The hoodie wearing side breathed a sigh of relief.

“However you now owe me a favor.” The dark side said. Virgil grumbled to himself but agreed and asked what the favor was. The royal smiled widely.

“You have to help me beat Deceit’s high score in Mario cart.” The anxious side was surprised at first but then smirked.

“Sure, I’m not going to pass up the chance to piss off the snake.” The smaller jumped onto the bed as Remus summoned his switch that was nearly covered in stickers except for the screen.

After a few rounds of Mario cart Virgil still hadn’t won once and he was getting annoyed, especially since Remus wouldn’t stop saying how he was the ultimate champion of this game. In this round they where nearing the finish line and Virgil was in second place while Remus was in first. He had dodged all of the shells Virgil had thrown at him but he still had one more.

There’s no way I’m letting this rat man beat me again. Suddenly Virgil had an idea and a dark smile formed on his face.

“So Remus,” the purple side said as he lined up the shot, “how did your date with Logan go?”

“What?!” Remus was so surprised that Virgil somehow knew about his sorta kinda date with Logan that he fell off the bed. Meanwhile Virgil threw a green shell at him and finished in first.

“Yes!” The smaller side exclaimed.

“How in this wide terribly gruesome world did you find out about that?” Remus said from the floor. Virgil shrugged.

“Logan said that you helped him with some research or something while blushing so I figured you actually took him on a date.” The emo said while he leaned back on his pillow. He looked over at Remus who was now sitting on the bean bag looking slightly startled.

“Well I didn’t technically ask him on a date, I just offered to take him and give him a tour of the imagination.” The duke said while he messed with his white streak of hair. “I haven’t actually told him that I like him.” Virgil was surprised that Remus looked actually embarrassed saying this.

“I never thought I would see the day that you were nervous.” Virgil said honestly. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Logan if you aren’t ready to tell him.” Remus gave him an incredulous look and started laughing like a mad man which slightly scared the smaller side. He suddenly stoped and got up.

“Thanks emo, I got to go or else De is going to get mad at me.” While the dark side walked to the door he messed up the purple wearing side’s hair until it defied gravity. “Wanna help me beat the record tomorrow since that slippery snake has such a freaking high score that we couldn’t beat it today?” The crazy side asked.

“Sure.” Virgil said, surprising even himself.

“Cool! Se yah tomorrow emo.” Remus said as he slammed the door loudly. The anxious side relaxed on his bed with a sigh. Even when just hanging out with the others being social was exhausting for him. He remembered that Thomas had some sort of event for tomorrow but Virgil doubted that he would need him for anything. As he was starting to drift off to sleep for a nap he had one last thought. Isn’t the wedding tomorrow?

Well I hope everyone if ready for some angst to come. Hope you guys have a good next 24 hours, bye!

Tag list:

@lovelivingmydreams

#sander sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #pride!roman #logan sanders #intrological #patton sanders #slight mention of eating disorder #mention of gore #mention of panic attack #my writting #one side two lives

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ask-iamnotanalicorn · 4 years ago

Photo

Previous: The Flim Flam Timeline

The Wasteland Timeline:

This is the story of when Equestria fell.

And this it the story of when Equestria rose again.

The trials began as they always do: with the return of Nightmare Moon. The celestial sisters clashed, and Celestia fell. Heedless of the struggle it would be to keep the Sun set with its alicorn princess banished inside it, Nightmare Moon did just that, determined that her traitorous sister experience Nightmare’s punishment.

Nightmare’s reign of Equestria was strained, but Equestria could have borne it. But within a year, the capital was attacked by the Changelings, desperate to replenish their stores of pony love that had been stymied by the nation’s state of fear and uncertainty. Nightmare Moon was barely managing to repel the threat when the Crystal Empire returned, and King Sombra began to march on her northern borders. With attacks from within and attacks from without, a distrusted leader on the throne, and economic failure rippling across the country as readily as the shifting front lines, the ponies of Equestria were more torn than ever.

So of course that’s when Discord escaped.

The upside of Discord’s release was that it temporarily stopped the fighting. Even King Sombra was smart enough to withdraw in the face of the mad draconequus on a quest of vengeance against all ponies. Queen Chrysalis and Queen Nightmare Moon (who had absconded herself at first sign of Discord’s escape, using every possible trick to keep him from finding her) formed a temporary peace treaty in order to seek a solution - for a world ruled by Discord was useless to all of them. (Granted, the Changelings could withdraw to their protected realm, but Chrysalis had tasted power and wasn’t about to let Discord have it all. She was quite looking forward to stabbing Nightmare Moon in the back afterwards.)

Their solution: a magical contract with the long-imprisoned centaur, Tirek. Tirek was more than happy to oblige. He single-handedly decimated Sombra’s troops, gorging himself on the magic of Crystal Empire and Equestrian ponies alike. It is possible that, if Discord hadn’t come to see what all the fuss was about himself, Tirek would have kept right on gorging to the very limit of the contract that bound him.

When the two titans clashed, the battle that ensued sundered hundreds of miles of landscape. Canterlot bore the greatest brunt; the castle collapsed completely from its cliffside home, the city little more than ruins. Discord’s attacks spread wildly unpredictable waves of chaos magic across much of Equestria. And when at long last Tirek had defeated him and sucked him dry, the lingering effects of that chaos magic stayed rooted in the ground like weeds.

It seemed, for the briefest moment, as if the worst problem was over. But of course, a power-maddened Tirek is a worse threat - because at least Discord doesn’t go out of his way to destroy everything in sight. Drunk on chaos magic, Tirek easily broke the tenuous contract with the queens and set across the landscape, draining ponies by the thousands and carving swaths through the countryside for the sheer wicked joy of destruction. His power was even mighty enough to destroy the changeling hive, overpowering its magical protections.

There was no choice - the two remaining rulers of any species in the land had to either defeat their own creation or face the loss of all they held dear. Nightmare Moon called upon the power of the Moon itself, drawing it nearer to Equestria in a desperate gambit. Tidal waves rocked Equestria’s coastlines, submerging Manehattan and other coastal cities entirely, and the alicorn of the night shone with deadly moonlit radiance as she bombarded Tirek with the full brunt of her power. But even Nightmare Moon at the height of her power was not strong enough to stop Tirek at the height of his, and he struck her down against the surface of the Moon itself. Some of the dislodged chunks rained down on the world, damaging more of not only Equestria, but many other countries on that side of the planet.

Tirek seemed to have won; all he had left to deal with was one small, angry changeling queen. An assured victory, no doubt.

He could not have known how wrong he was. For a changeling might give its magic willingly to a spell like Tirek’s with no ill effects, but an unwilling changeling queen will not be robbed of her power easily. As Tirek’s powers drain magic, so changeling powers drain love - and no one in all the world had such self-love as Tirek. The cycle of Tirek draining her magic and Chrysalis draining his became a self-consuming spell spiral that ultimately imploded upon itself, taking both creatures with it.

The resulting explosion could be heard across the celestial sea. For a few moments, there was something like an artificial sun on the horizon - a sun that had set directly on Equestria.

Then came the silence. After three years of war, devastation, and disasters unlike any the world had ever seen, there was silence.

And as the silence stretched, the survivors stirred.

Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, crystal ponies, and zebras; yaks, cows, goats, donkeys, and buffalo; gryphons, dragons, hippogryphs, minotaurs, and changelings: in spite of everything, many had survived. They rose from their hiding places to find an Equestria and Crystal Empire in ruins. No major cities still stood; borders and coastlines were unrecognizable. Large swaths of land once green and lush were barren and blasted, and spots of chaos magic lay in wait for creatures unwise enough to enter them unprotected. The moon hung wrecked in a dark sky, shining in shattered glory down on the devastation that had been the once-rich land of Equestria.

But the great destroyers were gone. None of the titans and tyrants who had brought this destruction down on the country remained. The usual monsters hardly seemed a threat anymore; those who had survived thus far had learned to cope with far worse. They could build new settlements, make new ways of life, come together or fall apart on their own merits.

And the most hopeful sign of all came the next day. The first actual day since Nightmare Moon returned and the Thousand Days of Woe began:

The Sun - weak and red in the dust-filled sky - slowly rose over the horizon.

The Princess of the Sun had not returned yet; perhaps she is still trapped by her sister’s spell. Perhaps another way of escape is being laid. But the light fills the ponies’ hearts with hope.

The Equestria they knew is gone. But the New Equestria has a future.

____

Sunday, Aug.10, 4 A.C.

Dear Journal,

It’s really strange dating things this way; but with everything that’s happened, most folks agree it’ll be easier to date our calendars starting with the fall of Princess Celestia. ‘After Celestia’ sounds so grim, though; kinda hope we change it. Maybe when the Princess returns... we’re praying she does.

Anyway, I still can’t believe we found a whole stock of blank paper in the storerooms! We’re saving most of it for bartering, but Mom thinks it’s smart for one of us to make notes for posterity, so it looks like I get to keep you. I’ll try to be short to save space, but it just feels so good to write again!

The move into the Canterlot ruins ruins is going pretty well. A few other families joined us after our last trip to Apple Fort, and we’ve shored up our defenses in case the air pirates make another flyby. Pop and I negotiated a deal with the Apples - food in exchange for books. A few of the unicorns know replication spells and are using some of the paper to make copies of really important texts so we don’t lose valuable knowledge to an accident. It still blows my mind how much we’ve lost in... was life really normal only a few years ago? It feels like another lifetime that I was in this very city, talking to the Princess, sitting at a normal cafe... eating lunch with Cam and Press...

I don’t want to forget them. Camera Shy and Pressing Matters, my best friends. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. We run into old friends every now and then - my old traveling salespony gig has come in handy, actually! I’ve found a bunch of people who used to be clients, it really helps with forming trade and peace treaties with other groups. So it could happen. Please, Prince, keep them safe wherever they are.

I’m really blessed, though. I have to remember that. I have Mom and Pop and Black and Per and Chewie - although I’m still not used to Chewie flying and talking now. She’s such a character. Lots of ponies are missing family - so are we, we haven’t been able to find most of the extended family, but Pop got word from Aunt Pitter that she and my cousin Light Drizzle are out west somewhere, and Pitch Apple is down at Apple Fort, thank the King.

And we could be worse! We made friends with a tinkerer named Steam Punk, he made me a new wing that works as good as my old one! (Not a HUGE bar to cross, but it’s still really impressive!) I’m talking him into working with me to start a production house that can make and sell them affordably to other handicapped pegasi. And Mom got her flight back thanks to a gem Black and some other mages crafted. I think she still misses her diving mark, but she’s so brave and optimistic, it really inspires everyone. I wish we could do something for Pop’s horn, but he’s finding other ways to help out. Per is... well, I guess if you’re going to get turned into a pony-dragon, you’d want to be as cheerful about it as Per. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get a cutie mark someday! And Black is fully aware that he looks pretty boss with an eyepatch, the dork.

There’s rumors that Princess Cadance might be alive and organizing the crystal ponies up North; lots of ponies are heading that way, but I think our group will stay here. There’s a lot of resources in the Canterlot ruins and in the castle, although Black leads the expeditions into the castle because of safety issues. I never knew he was so good at exploration and such; guess there were a few skills he was holding out on us over the years, but turns out he was working for the Princess before! What in Equus, I gave him such an earful for being all secretive about being my bodyguard or whatever.

I’m running out of page, so I’ll wrap up today. We’re holding a worship service later, Pop and Parson Brown are setting it up. We want to keep focusing on what we have to be thankful for. We are GOING to get through this. The King, the Prince, and the Advocate have not abandoned us, and we have each other.

~Salespitch

----

Fun Facts About The Wasteland Timeline:

- This was my favorite timeline to draw =D I HAD to get some steampunk stuff in there, although there are definitely Mad Max vibes. The convenient thing about this timeline is that it was a literal blank slate, so I could really get creative with it! I feel like this would make a neat bookmark, what do ya’ll think?

- I tried to reference all the major villains in the picture. Extra shoutout to ReversalMushroom, the patron who sponsored this Alternate Timeline Special, for giving me the ideas for the changeling goo and Tirek’s hoofprints, which were added in during the coloring phase. I think they round it out quite nicely!

- The random bit of Candy Forest over the crevice there is one of the pockets left behind by Discord’s chaos magic going wild. Most ponies avoid it because here’s WEIRD stuff in there, and ponies who go in there usually come out a little weirder themselves.

- Black lost his eye and half his sunglasses in a fight with some Changelings. He gets on quite well with only one eye, though, and he insists his sunglass-lens eyepatch is going to be the height of eyepatch fashion. (He DOES have a sense of humor in case anyone doubted it. ;) ) Black taught everyone basic survival techniques and does most of the more dangerous tasks.

- Sales lost his wing during Tirek’s rampage; he tried to distract Tirek, but they didn’t have time to make the plan from the Tirek timeline, so he got swatted pretty quickly. On the upside, Tirek lost sight of him and didn’t get his magic. Sales can fly about as well now with his new steampunk wing, which combines technology and magic to mimic low-level pegasus flight (which was where he was at anyway, so he made a great first test subject!) Sales’ main job is negotiating peaceful trades with other groups.

- Sales Patter (Dad) lost his horn while pushing his wife out of the way of some falling rubble. He insists he was only mediocre at magic anyway, and he doesn’t need a horn to do business! He does miss it, though. He helps their new community with allocating resources.

- Pitch Forward (Mom) lost her magic and cutie mark to Tirek’s onslaught. The gem in her coat simulates flight for her, although not quite at the level she was before. She and Sales joke about how he can almost beat her in a race now. She helps with the kids in their small community and teaches flying techniques to pegasi.

- Pitch Perfect got hit with a random blast of Discord magic that turned her half dragon. It took a little getting used to, but she honestly thinks it is super neat. She’s pretty good at sniffing out gems now, which (when she isn’t eating them) helps with family finances. Her friends Codebreak and Castle Crasher are part of their little community, and the three are constantly getting into trouble (which most everyone silently thinks of as a nice bit of familiarity.)

- Chewie ALSO got Discord’d; she has fairy wings now and she can talk. Chewie still likes Sales the best and hovers around him chattering like Navi half the time. The other half of the time she forgets she has wings and just hops around exploring. At this point she’s become less like a pet and more like another tiny sister, to Per’s delight and everyone else’s raised anxiety levels. She is VERY aware of her surroundings and alerts the group to intruders and strangers. She really misses computer games.

- Princess Celestia will eventually return, although by that time I feel that the various groups gathering together will have formed something like a decent society again. It remains to be seen if they’ll go back to a monarchy, create a government of connected micronations, or turn into something like the United States.

- And yes, Camera Shy, Pressing Matters, and Press’s husband Curler are all alive. They’ll meet up someday!

---

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey through time and space to explore the seven MLP timelines and where Sales & Co might have ended up in them! I hope you enjoyed it; I had a good bit of fun coming up with the different scenarios, it was a great brain exercise. =D Thank you again to all my Patrons, and to ReversalMushroom for sponsoring this particular special! There will be a final post next week of all the pictures together, with links back to their storyline posts.

I also want to thank you for bearing with me as the regular updates continue to be on hiatus. This has been a rough and strange year for all of us, and I hope you all are safe and healthy and know that you are loved. Jesus has really been with me through this year, and even tonight as I write this; there are things I struggle with, but I know that they do not define my value, HE does. =) And I, like Sales, want to count my blessings, the biggest one (aside from my faith in God) being that I have family around me who love me and care for me. I’m very much looking forward to Christmas! =D

Merry Christmas! May your Christmas and New Year contain joy and peace, and may Christ Jesus rest His hands on you and draw your heart to His. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

~River Babble

#mlp ask blog #pony ask blog #tirek #sombra #nightmare moon #Queen Chrysalis #mlp discord #IANAA #Salespitch

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wreckofawriter · 5 years ago

Text

The Not-So-Perfect Sister

Pairing: Sirius Black x potter!reader

Word Count: 4,442

Warnings: Under aged drinking, mentions of neglect, overall angsty

Summary: James Potters sister who had felt put of place her whole life finally breaks when Lily Evans arrives at her house.

A/n: I really like this one. Kinda angst but sweet. My inbox is open feel free to send in requests! Hope you guys like it too!

Being a Potter seemed like an easy gig to most people. The big house, nice family, a large amount of money, it definitely seemed like a piece of cake. And if your name is James then yes, yes it was. But if your name was y/n- or as most people called you James' sister -than no, no it wasn't.

When you were eleven you had walked up to the chair and sat down with your eyes locked on your smiling brother. He was seated between his three best friends and practically glowing with excitement from the gold and red table.

The old hat was placed on your head and you could already the word that would flow from its leathery mouth. But to your surprise along with everyone else's in the large dining hall, not even a second after the hat landed on your y/h/c head it bellowed, "Slytherin!"

The hall fell silent and your eyes, still on your brother went wide. James' on the other hand narrowed, his lips piercing to a thin line.

You felt your heart break as your best friend turned away from you in disgust. And at eleven years old you had already been smashed to pieces by the person you loved most.

Your parents had sent you a letter telling you it was alright to be in a different house but they didn't act like it was. When James joined the quidditch team they had cheered for him and came to as many games as they could.

When you joined the Slytherin team as a keeper they had dismissed it with a wave of a hand and only came to your games when you happen to be playing Gryffindor. They were always adorned in yellow and red.

They almost never sent you letters when James received one once a week. They would support James no matter what, but if you slipped up even once they would come down on you in a hail storm of fury.

By third year you stopped coming home over breaks, you would spend Christmas at Hogwarts alone. But summers were unavoidable. You would simply go home and hide in your room, only coming down stairs for meals which you eat in silence as you listened to your parents gush about James' achievements.

When Sirius joined you in your fourth year, their fifth, your life went from bad to worse.

Sirius was an asshole. He always was and always will be. He was arrogant and stubborn, he was sure he was the best thing in the world and that he had everyone trapped under his finger. And watching him receive more love from your parents than you did made living under the same roof as the boy nearly impossible.

What made it worse was the fact that he was irritatingly handsome. He was dashing and charming, somehow managing to make you hate him just to avoid feeling something else. It made you sick that you even had thoughts of him in a positive way whatsoever. But even though you would never admit it, you did.

And now you had to welcome another one of your least favorite people into your life.

You hated Lily Evans. From the minute layed eyes on the girl you could feel a sickening loathing build up in you like a fire. With each overly sweet smile she threw and disgustingly soft laugh she uttered the larger that fire burned.

It wasn't like she had ever done anything wrong to you. She was always nice when you passed in the hallways, she never picked on you or called you 'James' little sister' a term you had grown to hate. She was always kind to you, even when your brother was being a brat like usual. And that was one of the many reasons you hated her.

She was perfect. It made you want to hurl. Her fiery red hair and emerald eyes. Her perfect grades and great scores. She was kind, brave, smart and cunning. She had it all. Plus your brother, who wouldn't even spare you a glance, trailed after her like a lost puppy. She was the physical embodiment of everything you hated.

Of course now she was dating James which meant you had to put up with her bullshit even more than usual.

You were downstairs making yourself a sandwich, when the doorbell rang. You rolled your eyes and walked to go open it.

You swung the door open ready to shoo away some girl scouts when you came face with your worst nightmare.

"Hey y/n!" She smiled waving a bit.

Your mouth dropped and eyes went wide before narrowing to slits and your mouth slamming shut into a scowl.

You merely growled the word "Nope." Before slamming the door shut straight into her face.

"Y/n! What the hell?" You turned your mood souring from bad to worse.

"You deal with you preppy girlfriend James, I dont have the energy for her." You hissed.

He simply rushed past you his shoulder hitting yours harshly as he passed and opened the door.

"Lily, I am so sorry for my sister is being an asshole again.."

The rest of the conversation died out as you snatched your sandwich and darted upstairs. You quickly slammed into James room to meet Sirius, who was adorned in only a towel his black hair dripping wet. You ignored the sight and focused on the problem at hand.

"What the hell y/n?!" Sirius snapped, his face flushing.

"Yeah what the hell!" You responded to worked up to care about his lack of clothing.

Sirius shot you a confused look, his cheeks now a blazing red.

"Why is Evans here?!" You screeched.

"Maybe because she's meeting her boyfriend's parents?" Sirius bellowed back, "Now get out!"

You ran from the room slamming the door behind you and retreating from your safe haven. You stopped in your tracks when you saw your mother frantically attempting to clean your room.

"Y/n!" She scolded, "Your room is a complete disaster!"

"What are you doing in here?" You asked voice angry.

"Lily is going to be sleeping in here so clean this place up!" She yelled motioning to your disaster of a room.

Your fury strengthened, "I wont clean shit for that bitch." You growled.

"Y/n!" Your mother gasped in disgust.

You left before she had a chance to say anything more. Your head pounded as you thundered down the steps not bothering to move in the slightest as your brother and his girlfriend ascended upward. You shouldered them roughly out of the way James protests fading in the back of your mind.

You ran for the door, grabbing your purse and shoes from the mudroom before sprinting onto the street.

It had rained that night so everything was damp, causing your mitch-matched socks thin fabric to grow cold and wet. The scent of wet asphalt and dewy grass filled you helping to calm your nerves as you ran from your inevitable future.

You knew that eventually you were going to have to go back to that house and deal with your mother and father and brother and his girlfriend and probably his best friend too. But you ignored that fact sitting on a bench to pull on your converse. You didn't bother to tie them.

You then stood up and began to walk with no destination in mind. You walked for about an hour before you realized how hungry you are. You never got to eat that sandwich and breakfast was a distant memory.

You quickly found a small coffee shop and walked inside enjoying the strong scent of the beverage it emitted. You ordered before plopping down at your table and staring helplessly out the window. You watched people move back and forth outside of the window feeling slightly like a tiger locked in a zoo behind the thick glass. You stared at the thick purple clouds that bruised the grey sky, ignoring who's eyes they reminded. You were so entranced with the scene in front of you, you didn't even notice that your food was placed in front of you until you turned to see it there, the sandwich slightly cold.

You sighed, too hungry to discard the food put in front of you. You ate slowly, as if you were unsure if the meal was safe. You then turned your head back to the street to see a dark haired boy smirking back at you. You instantly stood, sprinting for the door.

The idea of being brought back to that house made you want to hurl the sandwich you had just eaten. So you began to run not bothering to look back, your feet thundered on the wet cement of the sidewalk before you turned down an alley only to yelp when you were greeted by a bored looking Sirius Black.

"Did you seriously think that you could outrun me." He questioned eyebrows raised.

"I could if you didn't use magic." You scoffed, attempting to shoulder past him and continue to the next street over. You were stopped when he grabbed you shoulder harshly.

"Why the hell did you run?" He asked almost seeming worried. You quickly brushed off the thought. Sirius Black doesn't worry, much less about Slytherins.

You hummed pretending to think, "Maybe because I don't want to deal with greasy haired asshole who is going to take me back to my living hell?"

"Hey!" Sirius protested, clearly offended, "My hair is not greasy!"

"You can not be serious." You sneered rolling your eyes.

"I'm always sirius." He smiled back satisfied with his overused and unoriginal pun.

You resisted the urge to smack him. "Why did you come anyways?"

"Your brother sent me." He shrugged, "plus we both know you don't want to walk all the way back to your house."

"Who said I was going back?" You challenged, eyes narrowing.

Sirius sighed, "You are going back weather you get on my bike yourself or I force you onto it." You glowered at him.

"If I could you use magic I would wipe your ass all over the street." You threatened.

"I know." He smiled, "that's why I'm happy you can't."

"I'm not going." You decided planting your feet and crossing your arms, head held high.

Sirius let out a strenuous sigh clearly annoyed, "Come on." He whined, "Your brother said I had to bring you back."

You pursered your lips, looking away from the boy.

He groaned, "Are you fucking with me?"

"Nope." You responded lips popping on the p.

"You're really going to make me hex you?" He grumbled.

You nodded making the boy let out another moan in protest before raising his wand and muttering "Rictusempra."

You immediately burst into giggles "You asshole." You spit out between laughs as a tickling sensation made you lose all other abilities.

Sirius grabbed you throwing you over his shoulder like you were a doll.

"I'm gonna kill you." You giggled unable to stop the laughter spurring from your mouth.

"I'm so threatened." Sirius smirked back before plopping you down on his motorcycle and buckling his helmet on your y/h/c head.

"Hold onto my waist, I don't want you to die."

"Really?" You chucked, voice uncharacteristically high.

"I'm on my way to changing my mind." He sighed sitting down trying to to flush as your arms hugged close to his waist your body shaking with giggles.

He reversed the spell at the first stoplight you reached and then continued his way back to your house, your chest pressed to his back. When you pulled back up to your house it was growing dark out and you were beginning to question your entire existence.

You groaned into Sirius leather jacket and banged your head onto his back.

"Can we not going inside?" You asked hopefully, glancing at the house its windows glowing warmly, the door reminding you of an entrance to hell.

"You got yourself into this one y/n/n, get yourself out." He shrugged before hopping off the motorcycle and snatching the helmet off your head.

"Don't call me y/n/n and I didn't get myself into anything you guys are just all assholes." You spoke harshly.

"How was I possibly an asshole?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Umm how about you hexed me and then forced me back to my house?"

"I was helping you!" He yelled exasperated.

"You were not!" You shot back, "You practically kidnapped me!"

"You're impossible." Sirius scoffed at you before turning on his heel and heading inside.

You scowled angry all over again before turning to face the house you knew you would have to walk into sooner or later.

You paced back and forth for a second before biting your lip and walking slowly up your porch steps. You then slowly opened the door and slipped inside. You were greeted by the sound of laughter and the clatter of silverware.

You poked your head cautiously around the corner to see your family seated for dinner.

Sirius was serving himself some pasta while your mother talked to Lily and James messed with your dad.

You felt your heart clench at how right it looked. The perfect son, the head boy and the quidditch star. The friend who needed help and received it, needing a family and getting one. And of course the perfect daughter. With red hair to match her robes and perfect grades. The head girl who would no doubt have an amazing life after school.

You tried to imagine yourself at the table sitting in the empty seat, your head bent, staring at the food refusing to meet your parents eyes, your green shirt looking odd against the wave of red. The fact was that you didn't belong and never would. So you went upstairs snatched a blanket and a pillow and retreated to your basement.

You plopped onto the couch and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You felt your eyes prick with tears as the image of the perfect family upstairs burned in your eyelids and you wanted to scream.

You slammed your hands on to your closed eyelids, enjoying the pressure they provided, keeping tears behind them. Because the truth was as much as you hated your family you wanted nothing more than to be apart of it. You had spent your whole life attempting to get noticed, to simply be acknowledged as half the person they saw James as. But year after year you were left more and more broken. And now your parents fell in love with a girl they had known for only one night. It made you sick. Your hatred for Lily growing into a nightmarish beast.

Your eyes popped open when you heard someone descending the stairs. You turned to see your brother leaning against the railing arms crossed eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you want James?" You scoffed sitting up on your elbows.

"What do I want?" James hissed, "I want to know why my sister is such a selfish prat."

You sat all the way up glaring at your brother, "I'm the selfish one?" You glowered in disbelief.

"Yeah, yeah you are." James spat.

You stood walking to meet your brother, "How in bloody hell was I being selfish?!" You growled.

"How about slamming the door in Lily's face, or I don't know swearing at mom or maybe calling my girlfriend a bitch before running off to fairyland?!"James was yelling now his voice echoing off the small room."Your damned lucky Sirius offered to find you because I'm done with it!"

You shook your head, "Sirius said you sent him to get me. He was lying?" You asked softly, You silently wished him to say that he wanted you back, that he had sent him, that he had wanted you here.

"Of course I didn't!" James shouted "Not everything is about you!"

You felt your heart crumpled. He hadn't wanted you back. Hell, he would have been happier if you had stayed gone. You willed yourself not to cry, so instead you laughed, a crazy demonic sound ripping from your throat and escaping your lips, "Your right James!" You screeched, "Not everything is about me!" Your fire full smile broke into a sneer, "It's all about you."

James looked taken aback for a second guilt flashing momentarily into his dark eyes before being replaced with anger.

"It's all about you. You and your perfect grades and your perfect friends." You could feel tears pricking at your eyes. "You and your quidditch bullshit, and your god damn bright fucking future!" You spat the words like venom from your mouth, "You and your bitchy girlfriend who's going to make the perfect little daughter in law!" You were now yelling your voice feeling raw as tears dripped off your chin.

"Stop calling her a bitch!" James screamed back.

Just then the door opened and Lily, Sirius and your parents came hurling down the stairs.

"What in bloody hell is going on!" Sirus shouted but you ignored him.

"I'm so sorry for calling shit as it is, your girlfriend is a bitch. B-I-T-C-H. BITCH!" You wailed taking a step forward, you were now looking directly into your brothers eyes, just barley below him, less than a foot away.

You saw his eyes burn, anger filling them, turning their dark brown pigment to black.

And then he did something you would never imagine him to do in his life.

James raised his hand and with one swift movement slapped you clean across the cheek

You heard a series or gasps and yells fall around you, your ears ringing slightly. You could feel where his hand had struck your skin, it was hot and thumping, a dull sting finding its home there.

You slowly turned your head back to meet your brothers eyes which were now wide with surprise and guilt.

You slowly removed the hand that had instinctively risen to your cheek and stared hurt and broken in front of your brother who's mouth had dropped open.

"Y/n, oh my God I didn't-"

"Rot in hell Potter." You spat your voice deep and dark. And with that you sprinted up the stairs.

As you began to move the world resumed and everyone else began to take action as well.

You saw James stumble backwards Lily beginning to go to him but Sirius beating her to it and reaching the boy himself. You then heard him yell something you were too delirious to understand before a thud was heard followed closely by another shriek. You shouldered past your parents as you accented the stairs, the fact that they didn't even spare you a glance stung more than a slap ever could.

For the second time that day you sprinted out onto the street, the crisp air hitting your hot face in a refreshing blow. You stumbled into the night ignoring your bare feet and chilled arms. You had no destination in mind as you sprinted down the sidewalk, you only had a location to get as far as possible from. You wished you had been thinking enough to grab your purse, you could have gone to a bus stop and left to Merlin knows where.

You made it four blocks before one of your feet caught behind your heel and you were flung to the ground by the ever cruel gravity.

Your hands hit the damp cement first followed directly by your chin causing you to bite roughly down on your lip.

You didn't even bother to move debating weather living was even worth it. You could taste the blood in your mouth and feel it seeping from your hands as you lay unmoving under the buzzing streetlamp.

You were pretty sure you would have lay on that sidewalk, your body shaking with sobs, blood slowly filling your mouth until you died if a strong pair of arms hadn't swept you up.

You instinctively buried your head into the familiar musky scent as Sirius pulled you close to him.

"Hey, hey you're okay." He mumbled quietly into your hair, smoothing it clumsily down as he pulled your head into his chest. "You're okay, I've got you."

You sobbed uncontrollably into Sirius as he mumbled sweet nothings into your ear and held you close to him.

"I-im sorry." You choked out eventually, pulling away from the boy slightly.

"What on earth are you sorry for love?" Sirius chuckled softly pushing the damp hair from your face.

"I think I got your jacket wet." You muttered a soft smile darting onto your lips.

Sirius let out a soft laugh, "You are ridiculous." His smile disappeared when he saw your lip.

"I'm okay." You muttered wiping the blood from you lips with a wince.

"No your not." Sirius sighed quietly.

He watched your face deflate and he realized that was probably the first time that someone hadn't let you lie to them. Hadn't let you hide behind the thick walls you had built. He called your bluff and it was unfamiliar and strange to you.

"Why did you lie?" You asked quietly.

"About what?" The boy questioned, confused.

"James didn't send you. He told me."

Sirius flushed before shaking his head he definitely needed to change the subject, "James is an idiot."

"He's your friend." You shrugged.

"Yeah well I don't know if that's true anymore."

You knotted your eyebrows, "Why's that?"

Sirius sighed "I knocked him out."

Your mouth dropped.

"If it was anyone else that hit you I would have killed them on the spot." He murmured.

You smiled slightly torn at the idea of your brother getting knocked out by his best friend.

Sirius decided that you needed something desperately, the same thing he had needed when he left home.

"Let's get you a drink."

Your eyes rose to meet his a bit uncertain, before you nodded, "Please."

Sirius smiled as he pulled you to his motorcycle, lazily tucking the helmet onto your head and buckling it for you, his face dancing red at the proximity of your soft pink lips.

You walked into the bar Sirius at your arm. The two of you sat on the stools and Sirius used a bit of magic to order your drinks.

He handed you a shot of vodka setting one in front of himself.

You glanced down at the small glass then back up at Sirius before shrugging and raising swiftly to your lips.

Sirius did the same laughing brightly when he saw your face scrunched in discomfort.

"That was disgusting!" You coughed, laughing a bit, "Get me another one!"

Sirius burst into laughter once again ordering you both another round, "This is the last one though, I don't want to have to take you home drunk." He said eyebrows raised.

You smiled back, downing the second shot a bit more easily than the last, enjoying the warmth that twirled down your throat to your stomach.

Sirius and you left, you a bit tipsy, him seemingly sober.

"Let's get you home." He muttered smiling about at your beaten and battered form.

Suddenly you broke free of him and stumbled backwards, catching yourself on the side of the building.

"I don't want to go home." You pouted.

"Sorry Y/n we have got to go back." Sirius sighed.

"I'M NOT GOING BACK!" You yelled harshly, anger flowing through you.

"Y/n/n come on it's not that bad, let's head back." Sirius sighed sympathetically.

"I know your parents were shit Sirius, but at least they were terrible people!" You yelled.

Sirius rose both eyebrows, "What?"

"Your parents were terrible people right?" You slurred a bit.

Sirius nodded.

"And they hated you because you weren't like them, you weren't s-somebody who would kill a-and hurt, so they hated you for being different. For being a good person." You rambled tears slowly falling from your cheeks.

"Y/n/n we seriously need to get you home." Sirius grumbled worriedly.

"You're not listening to me!" You screeched taking a step back.

Sirius stood unsure of what to do.

"My parents hate me for the same reason, because I'm different and I'm not like them." Your voice breaking mid sentence stabbing Sirius in the chest.

"And because they are 'good people' and they are nice and kind and heros being different than them means I'm a terrible person." Tears now rolled coolly down your check leaving silver streaks in their wake.

Sirius' face crumbled, "No, no, no. Y/n your not a terrible person, your a great person." He gushed rushing forward to capture you in his embrace.

"Then why do they hate me?" You asked voice small and weak.

"They don't hate you y/n. They love you." He mumbled softly one hand wrapping around your waist while the other gripped your head softly pulling you into him.

You shook your head slowly afraid if you spoke anymore that your eyes would flood with tears once again.

"Hey." Sirius murmured, causing your big y/e/c eyes to look up at him. "They love you, James loves you"

You looked away from his stormy grey eyes tired of hearing lies.

"Hey." He repeated bring your attention back to the storms resting behind his head. "I love you."

His whisper resonated through the chilled air, like the final note of an orchestra, the strings still not unmoving. You stared at him in wonder. Then your stood on your toes and grabbed the back of his neck slowly pulling him toward you.

Your lips connected in a sweet, salty kiss. The taste of blood and alcohol lingering between you. You felt his slightly chapped lips moved smoothly against yours making your heart flutter as your hand played with his dark locks, his own finding your waist and pulling you towards him.

You pulled away softly gasping lightly for air as your noses brushed lightly. Sirius' own heavy breaths tickling your face as your foreheads leaned together.

"I-I t-think I love you too Sirius." You fumbled lightly with your words.

He simply responded by reconnecting your lips in a desperate kiss, savoring the metallic taste of blood mixed with the sharpness of alcohol. You tasted like a sin, his tongue dancing across your lips before they opened allowing it to slip inside.

When you finally pulled away for the second time. You looked into his glassy storm filled eyes brushing his cheek gently with your thumb.

"I need you." You whispered quietly into the night. And for the first time in a long time you felt loved.

Part 2

Masterlist

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 4 years ago

Note

heyy can i request head canons with the haikyuu captains or the karasuno first years with how they would react to a haunted house. just to get in the spirit of halloween :)

heyyy anon!! yes ofc, i love that request :)

i hope you don’t mind but i decided to go with the karasuno first years bc i have a lot of ideas for them. If anyone wants though i can make a part two with the captains :)

alsooooo im sorry if anyone seems ooc, this is just how i think they would react + this is my first headcanon sooo forgive me if it isn’t the best <3

anywhooo, ty for the request, i hope you enjoy !!

•Haunted House w/ the Karasuno 1st Years•

[art credit : @boonooniee on twitter]

warnings: a few curse words

genre: crack

characters: hinata, kageyama, tsukishima, yamaguchi, and yachi

•Hinata•

surprisingly enough, this whole thing was his idea

he just wanted to spend time with his friends

he had to practically beg everyone to go, half of the group was scared out of their minds and the other half just weren’t interested in the slightest

when everyone finally agreed, he was quite literally jumping for joy

days leading up to it, he would not shut up about it

this boy was beyond excited

“Are you guys excited for the Haunted House? It’s gonna be so much fun!”

he was all smiley and giddy about it until he was standing at the entrance

now he was about to shit himself

“Heh um, who wants to go carve some pumpkins?”

mans had to be dragged in that hoe

he kept trying to tell himself that everything was fine and this would be super fun

then the first jump scare happened, and every ounce of courage in that tiny body was gone

he was clinging onto anyone that was in proximity of him

at some point he got a little bit of courage back and started to threaten to beat up one of the decoration

yeahh that “decoration” was one of the actors

that boy literally screamed and tackled the nearest person poor yams

now tiny yelps could be heard whenever he suspected something was about to pop out at him

at one point he literally started to hold his breath and Kageyama had to smack the back of his head so he would exhale

he finally reached the end after one of the actors chased him all the way to the exit

had to stand there for a minute to catch his breath after he realized the actor went back to their post

on the walk back home he kept talking about how it “wasn’t so bad”

luckily Tsukki had gotten a video of him jumping on Kageyama and knocking him over to remind him just how bad he seemed to think it was

little pouty after he realized that video was sent to the team group chat

he cheered right up when Yachi suggested they go get hot coco though

•Kageyama•

just no

he did not want to spend his time going to a haunted house

he had volleyball to practice

which is why, initially, his answer was no

but Hinata would not stop asking him about it and it was making it impossible for him to focus

he thought that if he agreed he would finally get some peace and quiet

ohh boy, was he wrong

Hinata would now not stop talking about how excited he was

Kags definitely had mixed feeling about all of this

he wasn’t the worst when it came to scary stuff but he’s never actually had to experience anything like a haunted house before

he figured if he could handle scary movie, he could definitely handle this, right?

he was a little nervous once they arrived but he would not let himself get startled so easily

mainly because he didn’t want to freak out the others 10x more and also because Tsukishima would never let him hear the end of it

so he decided he would suck it up and get through this without getting the absolute crap scared out of him

at first things were actually going pretty good, just some gory decorations on display

maybe this would actually be kind of fun

then one of the actors popped out and all hell broke loose

everyone was now terrified well except tsukki, mans got the popcorn out

Kageyama was trying his very best to play it cool but on the inside he was losing his shit

this was definitely so much more terrifying then the movies

Hinata and Yachi’s screams were not helping either

he tried to mask his fear by yelling at Hinata any chance he got

Tsukishima saw right through that,

“Oh? is the king getting scared?”

yes, yes he was

but Tsukishima did not need to know that

flinched at anything that could potentially pop out at him

got knocked over by Hinata a few times

Yachi had a death grip on this mans arm half the time to be honest he kind of felt less scared with how scared she was so he didn’t mind

ended up using Hinata as a shield a few times

he got to the end after what felt like an eternity

never wanted to do something like that again

Tsukishima unfortunately got most of his unfortunate experience on camera

cue the never ending teasing

Yachi had told him it was okay and asked if he wanted to get hot coco with the rest of them bby is too kind

sir was definitely in the mood for some hot coco after that nightmare

•Tsukishima•

“No.”

that was his immediate answer

its’s not as if he was scared to go mans knows everything is fake and does not care in the slightest

he just did not find them as entertaining as most people did

and going with the others?

yeah, count him out

but Hinata was determined

Tsukishima was ready to resort to violence when Hinata had bothered him about it for what felt like the millionth time

when he realized that that midget would not shut up until he got the answer he wanted, he finally caved

“Fine. Just shut the hell up, would you?”

Hinata did not shut up

listening to Hinata go on and on was worth it once they got there though

this was one of the most entertaining things he’s seen in a while

everyone was already loosing it before they even got inside

teasing was at the max today yams was the only exception

Hinata was the main target of his laughs

Yachi was runner up but he didn’t really have to try, miss girl was scared of everything tbh he went a little easy on her bc he lowkey felt bad

he even got to poke fun at the king himself

documenting everyone’s misfortune and sending the videos to the gc

purposely walked in front of the group so they’d bump into him and get scared

he and Yamaguchi were the first one to reach the exit so he got to watch everyone run for their lives

now he was really running his mouth

told Hinata he never wanted to do something like that again though

in reality, he had a lot of fun

he surprisingly agreed to get hot coco with them afterwards mainly because he knew the cafe they were going to had strawberry shortcake

•Yamaguchi•

oh no

Yamaguchi was definitely not one to willingly participate in things like this

he honestly was about to refuse the offer until he found out Tsukki was going

he decided it was now or never to get over his fears I’m convinced that if Tsukki jumped off a bridge, Yamaguchi would too

Hinata talking about how excited he was did nothing to calm his nerves

every time it was brought up he would try to change the topic

he preferred to pretend as if it wasn’t a thing that he was actually involved in

As soon as they arrived, Yams was clinging onto Tsukishima for dear life

he was very grateful that Tsukki didn’t deny his attempts to use him as a human shield

It didn’t start off too bad

sure there was a few props that were uncomfortable to look at but for the most part he thought he could actually get through this pretty easily

he had even loosed his grip on Tsukki’s arm a little bit

then things started popping out at him

sir did not sign up for all of this

he was right back to cutting off the circulation in Tsukishima’s arm

Yamaguchi wasn’t the type of person to scream when he got scared

he preferred to shut his eyes as tight as he could and repeat that he was okay over and over again in his head

if he wasn’t so terrified he would probably be laughing right along with Tsukishima

but at the moment all he was focused on was getting the heck out of that place

funny enough, he didn’t even notice that they had reached the end until Tsukki told him he could open his eyes

poor baby was pretty much on the brink of tears after all of that

Hinata apologized profusely as Kageyama scolded him

he felt much better later, laughing at all the videos Tsukishima took with some hot coco in his system

•Yachi•

poor girl

when Hinata suggested going to a haunted house she felt her heart drop to her stomach

she agreed none the less though, figuring that it would make Hinata sad if she refused seeing how excited he was

leading up to it, she was still scared out of her mind but some of Hinata’s excitement had surprisingly rubbed off on her

maybe she could get through this

her mind changed when they actually arrived

nope nope nope nope nope nope

definitely could not get through this

she was furiously nodding at Hinata’s offer to get the heck out of there but that idea had been shut down

she tried to gravitate towards Tsukishima, since she figured that he was big and he could be a shield or something of that sort

she ended up taking off in the other direction once he began telling her about all the scary stuff that was inside he was just teasing but poor baby definitely did not sense the sarcasm

she opted to clinging to Kageyama since sticking around Hinata and Yamaguchi just made her more nervous

“Kageyama-kun, am I going to die in there”

once they got inside she calmed down a little bit

the decorations at the beginning were mostly just bloody props and Kageyama kept hitting them to show her they weren’t real we love big brother Kags

it was probably just a coincidence that every prop he hit ended up smacking Hinata in the head

then the jump scares begun and Yachi was just about ready to faint

miss girl was just babbling nonsense, trying to distract herself from how terrified she was

every single jumpscare she would let out a squeal and shut her eyes

she ended up bumping into Tsukishima a few times which just made her even more terrified I mean, mans is huge and it’s dark what do you expect

almost got lost

she had run in the opposite direction and Yamaguchi thought one of the actors kidnapped her

Hinata started flipping out

Kageyama just started yelling at him

Tsukishima ended up spotting her running back to the group after getting chased back by one of the actors

someone was now in front and behind her at all times

by the end of it Yachi was on the cusp of needing medical attention

she suggested getting some hot coco once she calmed down mainly just to get her mind off of everything she just had to experience

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

41 notes · View notes

medeafive · 4 years ago

Note

buckynat prompt: Buky joins the Avengers and Nat as his mentor (sort of like Coulson was to her and Clint), who explains/helps him to integrate better into the team. :) if you feel inspired.

I came across this years-old ask (sorry) and inspiration struck so here you go: good old retro tower fic with movie nights, Thor making pop tarts, Clint playing Angry Birds and all that.

(To the anon who sent a prompt more recently, I got it and I’ll get to it! Just don’t expect me to be quick lol)

Bucky’s not comfortable with this team thing. They all already know each other, have their established dynamics, all easy-going and sassy, and now he’s right in the middle and- it’s awkward. He’s not good at human-ing yet. Natasha and Steve both say it’ll come back, and that they all know their share of awkwardness, but he’s not so sure about that. His case is different. Just because he pulled it together enough to let himself be found by Steve, to come back with him-

He’s still not cleared for active duty, which he actually doesn’t mind that much. Hanging out in the tower is fine, he can handle most of them individually, even in small groups, but the real horror for him is movie night. All of them at once, one louder than the other, alcohol, some fast-paced movie he can barely focus on, and it’s all so crowded, too. Of course, the worst one was when Stark somehow made them all watch The Manchurian Candidate. But every time Bucky tries to suggest he’ll skip movie night, Steve gives him the worst puppy eyes he’s ever seen and he says yes to everything again. He really doesn’t want to disappoint Steve. And it’s not like he has any good excuses for not going, he doesn’t have missions like the rest of them.

They’re squabbling about the movie choice again, as they always do, and Bucky’s just sitting there quietly with the popcorn Thor distributed cheerfully to everyone. Barton wants to watch something funny, Stark wants to watch a horror movie because apparently Halloween is a whole season for him, Steve is trying to interest them in movies from back in the day without any success while Banner keeps suggesting films that don’t even have English titles and Thor is reacting to everything he’s heard of before, though he seems to mix most of it up. Bucky doesn’t really care what they’re watching as long as he doesn’t have to sit in the middle. Having people on both sides feels way too crowded. There’s no clear majority until Thor discovers there’s a movie called Paddington about a bear in a hat, and then everyone falls in line with that, though Stark only does so begrudgingly.

Bucky sits on the right side so it’s all good, and he pays some attention while also nibbling absent-mindedly on the popcorn. Natasha slips in about halfway through the movie, wet hair, rosy skin, and he remembers she had a mission, though he can’t remember what. Or maybe she didn’t tell him. She took it on herself to be something like a mentor to him, someone who understands what he’s going through, who doesn’t have as many expectations for him as Steve, who’ll help him settle in. She’s good at it, too, but she’s good at everything so that’s not surprising. He really really likes Natasha, more than he cares to admit, and he relaxes somewhat when she drops onto the couch next to him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she whispers back. “Mind if I sit here?”

He finds he doesn’t. She smells of citrus fruit, probably the shampoo. “Sure. Mission went well?”

“Well enough,” she replies, extending her legs and making herself comfortable like a big lazy cat. “Mhm. Was that Clint’s idea?”

“Thor really latched onto it,” he replies. “Apparently, two is a majority here.”

She chuckles, shifting again until her shoulder rubs against his, and he really only stops breathing for one second, at most.

He doesn’t pay any attention to the movie after that and it just flies by, time best measured by how often Natasha has reached over into his popcorn bowl. She chews very quietly. Or maybe the movie is just too loud to hear. Anyway, it’s over way too soon, credits rolling, and Natasha reaches into the popcorn bowl a final time before scooting a little away from him. Thor has thoughts about the movie, loudly proclaimed thoughts, and it goes back and forth for a while without Bucky really listening. He notices Banner quietly folding up what looks like some scientific journal on the other end of the couch. Steve turns to ask Bucky about the movie when he notices Natasha. “Oh hey. Nat. Didn’t see you there.”

Natasha reaches into the popcorn bowl again. “Yeah, didn’t want to disturb.”

“Glad you could make it,” Steve replies. “Did you get that business in Laos under control?”

He doesn’t remember that, so she probably really didn’t tell him. “Pretty much,” she replies, munching unabashedly. “I’ll debrief you all tomorrow. It’s not urgent.”

Steve yawns. “Tomorrow sounds good. It’s already late.”

“Oh come on, you old man,” Stark complains. “Really? Oh, hey, Romanoff.”

“Yeah, yeah, you night owl,” Steve returns, getting up. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning in the gym. Good night, Buck.”

“It��s not even 10,” Stark states. “We could easily watch another movie.”

“I’m out as well,” Banner says quietly. “One movie is really enough.”

Stark groans. “The god of movie night? Please?”

“Sorry, my friend,” Thor replies. “I promised Jane I would call her.”

“I’m game,” Barton interjects. “I mean, we can just watch without them. Tasha?”

Natasha shrugs. “I’m jet lagged, I won’t sleep anyway.”

“Well, then good night, boring friends,” Stark decides. “What do you want to watch?”

Barton shrugs. “Whatever. Hey, Thor, are you still making the cake pops tomorrow?”

Thor looks back. “Of course! Thanks for reminding me. I shall make them tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s one reason to get out of bed,” Barton remarks, turning back. “Any ideas on the movie?”

“How about Pretty Woman,” Stark teases. “I hear someone likes redheads.”

He blushes though he doesn’t mean to. Stark makes references like that all the time and Bucky still can’t handle it. Yes, fine, they spar together, and if she occasionally ends up having her legs around his neck, that’s a choking move and that’s why he gets red-faced and not at all anything else, no reason to be weird about it and say stuff like between her thighs- “Yeah, you,” Natasha throws back. “I noticed. I don’t really care but not Pretty Woman.”

“It’s weird that you’re over there,” Barton remarks with amusement. “I assume you don’t have suggestions, buddy?”

He shakes his head. Most of the movies he remembers are silent and Hydra didn’t care to keep him up on anything that didn’t involve killing people. Natasha climbs over him, accidentally kicking Barton’s arm. “Yeah, I’ll just come over. Whoops.”

“Oh, you like horror movies, don’t you?” Stark asks. “I bet you haven’t seen The Conjuring yet.”

“I haven’t,” Natasha confirms, settling in on Bucky’s left side. “I mean, if you want, sure.”

“JARVIS, you heard her,” Stark says. “Unless Birdbrain objects.”

Barton shrugs, pulling his feet in. “You know I don’t have taste.”

“Mind if I take that?” Natasha asks, pulling the popcorn bowl from Bucky’s lap to hers. “Then we can share. Clint, you know popcorn’s not real food.”

“You’re one to talk,” Barton shoots back, and then the film already starts rolling.

It turns out horror is bad. He actually thought he liked it, vague memories about taking girls to the theater and them squealing and grabbing his hand tightly, but the moment the creepy music starts, the hair on the back of his neck stands. He tries not to look too much, focuses on picking unpopped popcorn from the bottom of the bowl, his heart is racing unnecessarily, it’s just a movie, he has seen real horrors, this is just some invented bullshit- The next jumpscare hits him hard and his knee hits Natasha’s, rattling the popcorn bowl, and he could curse himself for making so much noise, drawing so much attention-

“Hey, JARVIS, pause,” Natasha orders, putting the bowl in Barton’s lap and climbing over the back of the couch. “You know what, I need a drink.”

Stark snorts. “You know what, make that two.”

Bucky’s heartbeat calms down a little. Okay. He can do this. It’s just a movie. He can’t admit he got scared because of a movie. He has a reputation, goddamnit. Barton gives him an unreadable look. Natasha climbs back over with two glasses, somehow not spilling anything. “There. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Stark returns, knocking his glass against hers and then starting to sip.

The awful movie continues playing and Bucky’s a little short of distractions to focus on, given that Barton is still holding the popcorn bowl. He doesn’t even have anything to drink but getting up now would seem suspicious. Just sit through it. How long can this damned movie be? He’s been through worse. He can do this.

His heart rate doesn’t really go down, though, sweaty right palm, the old fight or flight but definitely don’t just sit there, which is unfortunately exactly what he has to do. He tries to focus on Natasha’s comforting smell, he thinks it’s orange, he often tells her about his nightmares and that makes it a little better, he’s here on the couch and the movie is just a movie after all-

He wasn’t paying attention so the jumpscare startles him badly, elbows jolting in, hands fisting- something grabs his metal hand and he relaxes slightly, Natasha’s thumb sliding into his palm- but then he realizes Natasha is holding his left hand, holding it tightly, thumb rubbing his metal palm, and his heart rate jumps up a notch. He feels everything in the metal arm, despite what he tells Steve when it’s malfunctioning, so he really feels Natasha’s small hand wrapped around his, squeezing his, and he actually doesn’t hear the movie anymore over the blood rushing through his ears.

He’s certainly not going to let go and she doesn’t either. He chances a look but she’s just staring ahead, gripping his metal hand. Fine by him. There’s more scary shit happening on screen but it doesn’t quite register. Barton starts arguing about something and Stark argues back but it’s all just a hum, Natasha flips her hand and presses all four fingers into his metal palm, thumb sliding over the back of his hand soothingly. Well. If there’s ever been a distraction, that was it.

He still startles, though, and Natasha squeezes his hand so hard he’d never dare do it to her, for fear of breaking her hand, and then there’s a particularly bad bit that makes him tense in the shoulders and she leans over slightly and whispers “it’s over soon” in his ear. That makes it a little better. Most of all, it makes it very hard to focus on the movie.

The bad bit is long, feels long, but then the rest flies by almost regrettably fast and before he knows it, Natasha has pulled her hand back and the lights are turning on again. He blinks slowly, awakening from a dream-like state. “I don’t know,” Barton remarks. “Witches, really?”

“We fight with gods and aliens and you want to object to witches?” Stark complains.

“Not witches generally,” Barton retreats. “But weren’t they saying that the woman burned during the whatever century witch hunt was actually a witch? Wasn’t that the whole point?”

“I mean, it’s a horror movie,” Stark replies. “Does it really have to make sense?”

“I thought it was great,” Natasha says. “Not necessarily anything new or creative but solid horror stuff.”

He’s still shaken, though he can’t tell whether that’s from the movie or from Natasha’s tiny hand squeezing his. “Yeah, they’re going to make like 5000 sequels and spin-offs,” Stark remarks. “Hey, popsicle, you don’t look too happy about it.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky replies, carefully restrained. “I kinda zoned out, wasn’t really paying attention.”

That’s kinda true, actually, he couldn’t retell the story though the creepy music and the shock effects are very fresh in his mind. Natasha casually pats his thigh. “I’m hungry. Any food in the house that isn’t popcorn?”

“Fridge is fully stocked,” Stark reports, pulling out one of his fancy phones. “Yeah, I’m out though. Pep scheduled me a 9am tomorrow.”

“The horror,” Barton remarks sarcastically. “Nah, I’ll think I’ll go to bed. Or, you know, play Angry Birds.”

“You know that’s not the same thing as sleeping,” Natasha accuses, climbing over the back of the sofa. “Okay, good night, losers, I’m making myself a sandwich.”

She disappears into the kitchen and Bucky realizes he stared after her again. Stark snorts, swiping over his magic phone. “Hill says there’s something in Brazil we should take a look at. Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Again?” Barton questions. “Weren’t we there only a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah, turns out us being there didn’t magically fix everything,” Stark replies. “Surprisingly.”

Barton rolls his eyes, getting up with a groan. “Yeah, that sounds like a problem for tomorrow me. Great guy, he can do anything. You’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“You keep telling me about that guy and he never shows up,” Stark returns, typing something. “Okay. See you tomorrow then, there’ll be a meeting and all.”

Bucky has never been to one but they all seem to hate it. Barton flips the bird and slumps over to the elevator. Stark is still typing, frowning. “Mhm. Any plans, robobrain?”

“No,” Bucky replies carefully. “Not really.”

Stark huffs with amusement, stuffing the phone away and grinning. “I see. Have fun zoning out then. Staring blankly into the dark or whatever it is that you do.”

He feels like if Stark made an inappropriate comment now, he’d snap, but somehow the guy just grabs his not yet empty drink and saunters off down the stairs to the other elevator. This building is complicated. He waits until the elevator doors open and then close again, taking Stark’s humming up with them. Then he sighs, pushing up, and walks slowly over into the kitchen.

Natasha is indeed making a sandwich, washing lettuce like it’s just what she does, not like she’s 130 pounds of could kill you. Well, he doesn’t know her weight. She looks up when he leans in the doorway. “Don’t wanna go to bed yet?”

“No.” He bites his lip. He’s not really hungry, too jumpy and unsettled.

She makes a sympathetic noise. “The movie didn’t sit well with you, huh?”

Not at all. “Especially the bit about demonic possession,” he admits. “Thanks, though, I didn’t want to- didn’t want to tell them.”

“It’s totally okay if you can’t handle horror movies,” Natasha replies, placing the lettuce in her sandwich. “I mean, they’re designed to stress you out. But I get that that’s hard to admit.”

He breathes out. She has this way of making you comfortable with her, open up to her, and somehow it doesn’t feel sinister or manipulative but good. Like she understands. He still feels her tiny hand against his. “It’s just- one stressful thing stacked on top of another on top of another.”

“Yeah, I know,” she agrees, squirting some sauce into the sandwich. “That’s just what life is.”

He grabs one of the bar stools and sits down. “What about you? You were gone for a while.”

She shoots him a grin, capping the sandwich off. “Ah, you know how it is. Nice beach holiday.”

He snorts. “Isn’t Laos the one state in Southeast Asia that doesn’t have a coast?”

“Good catch,” she remarks, biting off the sandwich. “Have you been studying geography?”

“Reading up on Vietnam, mostly,” he replies. “I’m pretty certain I was there at some point but I didn’t really understand what was going on at the time. I mean, I still don’t understand it.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, that’s not on you. No, the mission was fine. Didn’t get too messy.”

She’s often secretive about missions, probably a habit from her SHIELD days. He’s learned to avoid it. “Good weather at least?”

She smirks, taking another bite of her sandwich. “Ha. Summer monsune. It was super humid. Hot, too.”

That does sound familiar. Yeah, he shouldn’t kid himself, he probably did some really bad stuff in Vietnam, even if he doesn’t remember right now. Another minefield. He sighs, straightening. Tomorrow. "I think I’ll go to bed. Might join Steve in the gym tomorrow morning.”

“Could you-” she cuts in, wiping the pink-ish sauce out of the corner of her mouth. “Wanna stay just a minute? I’ll be done soon.”

He frowns, sinking back into the chair. “No hurry. Why?”

“Nothing,” she replies, chewing. “Nothing. Sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

His stomach still feels too fluttery for that. “No, I’m good. Are you okay?”

“All good,” she reassures him. “Just give me a minute, then we can go upstairs together.”

Wait, that’s weird. And not in the blushing way. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

She chuckles suddenly. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. Promise not to laugh.”

“Okay.”

She wipes another bead of sauce off her lip. Yeah, that was too much. “Okay. Don’t laugh. I get really scared during horror movies.”

He almost laughs. “Come on, you weren’t.”

“I hide it well,” she replies. “And I’ll forget it the next day but right now, I wouldn’t go into the dark and I’m watching that corner really hard.”

Oh, she’s serious. “So why did you watch it?”

“Please.” She snorts, picking up some lost lettuce. “I have a reputation. I can’t admit I’m scared because of a stupid movie.”

Well, he wouldn’t have believed her. “So when you grabbed my hand-”

“That wasn’t just for you,” she finishes. “Now, if you tell anyone, I will murder you.”

Of course. “Don’t worry, no one would believe me anyway.”

“True,” she admits, taking another bite. “So, now you know. I still think it’s fun, though.”

He can’t agree with that right now but maybe he can in the future. “Okay, I’ll just stay until you finish. And I’ll gladly walk you back to your room.”

She snorts. “Don’t get all gentlemanly on me. Thanks, though.”

He’d actually like to thank her but he’s already been cheesy enough. “No problem. But don’t you dare tell Stark.”

She grins mischievously. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#buckynat #bucky barnes #winter soldier #natasha romanoff #black widow #avengers tower #my writing #fanfic

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