#her face is now completely smudged off from me painting the next page in my sketchbook :')

[yourcomputerr]

[jinkicake]

You Call Him Daddy?!

You accidentally call them daddy in front of the team.

Kageyama Tobio x Reader

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

For the anons who requested these characters!! Here you go~~ I combined them and put them on one page, the Karasuno boys. (*・∀-)☆ Pls omg Kageyama and Tsukki are aged up to 18, they’re third years in this. Don’t be gross and think they’re tiny first years, I wouldn’t be able to handle it TT

This is complete and utter filth, I have no idea what possessed me to write this. Please..... read this at your own caution TT SMUT

WC- 2,208

~~~

Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama would pass away on the spot, he would stop functioning

Honestly though, it was his fault he got caught, he was too distracted to even catch his mistake

It was tournament season and you were going to watch some of his games

Sadly though you had to babysit your neighbor’s daughter, who happened to be the child of Aoba’s assistant coach, and with her parent’s permission you brought her to the arena

It was so crowded as you held her to your chest, you frantically looked around for any members of your boyfriend’s team

You couldn’t see where you were going and bumped into a familiar player, their large hands bracing your shoulders and your eyes widen at the turquoise in your vision

“Oh, Kindaichi I’m sorry, are you okay?” You smile politely at your boyfriend’s old teammate, much to Kageyama’s dismay, you actually liked the onion head and Kunimi

“I’m fine, it’s good to see you. Hi Natsumi.” He pats the little girls head and she squeals in delight at the familiar boy

“Where’s daddy, huh?” You coo and lift her up so she can find her father

“Daddy! Daddy!” The little girl calls out to her father and you hand her over to the assistant coach before waving at Kunimi

“(Y/N).” Kageyama calls from behind you, you can’t keep the wide smile off of your face when you see him “What’s wrong?” His concern sends your heart into a frenzy

“Oh, nothing! I’m just letting Natsumi see her dad before we head up to the bleachers, I was looking for you!” You tell him and he flicks your forehead, disappointment heavy in his features

“So you weren’t calling for me?” His flirty tone causes your face to heat up and you thought no one had heard due to the mass amount of people in the hallway

You were wrong…

“Gross.” Kunimi rolls his eyes as he passes his old teammate “That’s nasty, even for you Kageyama.” He tosses his nose high into the air and a bright red Kindaichi follows behind him

You can only gape and blink before clutching your boyfriend’s shoulders and laughing loudly into his chest

Kageyama seriously stopped working, his face turned bright red and he was trying to hide his face behind his thick hair

“Ah you’re so cute Kageyama!” You cup his cheek and smile sweetly, in an effort trying to bring his spirits up after the humiliation he brought on

“You look so cute with kids.” Kageyama praises, his face resting in the crook of your neck as he slowly thrusts into you. You tilt your head back against the pillow at the intensity of each stroke, your back arches into the air and Kageyama smirks before wrapping his lips around your nipple. 

“F-fuck,” You sigh loudly, your voice breaking off into a moan when his teeth bite down on the small nub. Your hands quickly find his hair and roughly pull on the strands, you’re really being worked with each of his thrusts.

“I should fuck a baby into you, shouldn’t I? You would look so nice with my cum spilling out of you, don’t you think?” When Kageyama asks questions he always expects an answer, but right now it’s so hard to give him one. It’s so hard to focus between his pelvis rubbing against your clit and the overall feeling of being so full.

“Yes,” Your word stretches with a whine and you press your lips together to hold back another. “I would like it so much daddy.” Your begs make Kageyama want to pick up the pace but he continues to thrust into you slowly while one of his hands gently slaps your other breast.

“Is that any way to ask, petal?” His eyes are so commanding as he looks at you, almost as if he is testing you to reject his motives. The natural dominance, the need to be in charge, radiating off of him makes you feel so small under him. So protected in his care that you want to give your all to him. 

“Please ruin me, I won’t waste a single drop daddy.” You promise and Kageyama breaks into a wide grin, his hips pick up the pace to fuck you into the sheets.

“That’s it sweet girl, you better keep your words.”

Sugawara Koushi

Listen nobody thinks Sugawara is nasty

But let’s be real, we have all seen him angry! That bitch is crazy!

We call Daichi the ‘dad’ but honestly,,,, Sugawara could make everyone his bitch without lifting a finger

Daddy!Sugawara periodt, that’s all I want to say

After practice one day you agreed to help some of the first years with their Japanese literature class, it went by slow and you mainly just proofread their writing to make sure it was all correct

As you continue to read through Hinata’s paper, your brows furrow together when you try to piece together the word he had written

It doesn’t look like it belongs there and you can’t figure out what it could possibly be

“Umm Hinata what is this word? It looks like you wrote ‘daddy’ but that doesn’t fit there?” You lightly point at the smudged pencil and the small boy squeaks before trying to piece it together himself

“Daddy? Hinata you’re an idiot!” Kageyama insults as he continues to write his own paper

“Daddy? I love that word!” Sugawara pops up from behind you and squats down to kiss your cheek before running back to the court

The two first years look at each other before looking at you, confusion painted on their faces before going back to their work

“Is no one going to say anything about that?” Tsukishima looks around with a mild disgust before shrugging his shoulders and serving to Yamaguchi

“You didn’t mean it like that right Sugawara?” Daichi smiles at his friend, his smile faltering when his friend doesn’t confirm his statement

“No I like being called daddy.” The refreshing setter sends an innocent smile back before grabbing a ball, ignoring the stunned look on his captain's face

“S-Sugawara-“ Asahi starts but can’t find the words to figure out what the hell to say

Kiyoko looks up from her clipboard and sends you an approving nod, hiding her face behind the object just as quickly as she looked up

“Hey! Let’s not be so surprised! We’ve all seen him angry before!” Nishinoya defends, standing tall next to his setter “Good for you Sugawara, daddys for life!” He gives him a slap on the back as praise and you simply watch the entire thing with a deep embarrassment

“Am I really that innocent to them? Do I not look like I would be into freaky shit, should I be offended?” Sugawara continues to ask you, knowing damn well you won’t be able to answer him back with the makeshift gag in your mouth. “Your panties work so well, don’t they angel? You look so utterly delectable.” He pushes the material deeper into your mouth with two fingers before going back to check each of the soft silk ties holding your arms and legs apart. “As if none of them want to be called daddy, and they look at me like I’m the weird one?” He continues to rant, gently running his finger up and down your naked body. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

You try to talk around the soaked material but it only comes out like complete nonsense, Sugawara nods as if he understands it anyway.

“What can I do to show them I’m not the vanilla player they think I am? I’ve already ruined you beyond repair, haven’t I?” He cups your cheek lovingly, his words are added with extra fluff that hold nothing but lies. “Maybe I just need to push your beautiful body further. Would you like that angel?” He continues to ask and you nod frantically. “Ah, of course you would.” Sugawara dips his fingers between your thighs, spreading your folds apart to tap at your clit. Even the small action makes you release a muffled cry.

“Daddy is going to take such good care of you tonight.”

Tsukishima Kei

I don’t know who Tsukishima would throw off a building first, you or himself

It would be just his luck that the first time you call him daddy, someone overhears it and can’t keep their mouth shut

Spoiler alert : said person is Hinata

It’s after school before practice and Tsukishima has you cornered against the wall in an abandoned hallway

One of his long legs rest between your own and his hands are pressed flat on either side of your head

Yes you had been teasing him in class, sending him filthy text messages to the point that you could see the familiar tent rising in his slacks but, did you stop there?

Nope

Seeing him so turned on in such a public setting only made you hotter and the sticky summer humidity wasn’t helping you either

But your boyfriend knows discipline and was able to control himself…. well until the bell rang

Now you’re his for a short time before he has to get to the gym

Two of Tsukishima’s fingers pinch your chin and force you to look up at him, his narrowed eyes glare down at you and it should make you feel nervous

… it doesn’t

The irritation radiating off of him in waves only makes you pout larger, purposely you push your lip out just to spite him

“What was that in there?” Tsukishima spits out in a hushed whisper, heavily referring to the last period when you sent him text after text of all the things you want him to do to you

“It was just a little teasing.” Your words fuel him to grab your wrist and place your hand flush against his crotch, the contact causes your thighs to clench around his leg 

“Little? What about this is little?” He sneered and you could feel yourself going light headed

“I-I’m sorry” Your apology is still not enough for him

“You’re sorry? Who are you apologizing to?”

“You, daddy” The words slip out of your mouth, fumble out so smoothly that you don’t even realize what you said until he stopped moving

At this Tsukishima’s glasses fog over, it’s like he stopped functioning and you fear that you may have broken him

Fuck, you can’t think it had gotten any worse….

It had

“T-Tsukishima practice started five minutes ago…” Hinata calls from around the corner and from where you are, you could have sworn you saw blood trickle out of his nose

“Come on daddy” Kageyama tries to tease but ends up gagging on the last word, covering his mouth to shield his laughter

The two third years walk off while they try to hold back their amusement, unable to look their teammate in the eye

By the looks of it…. You can’t handle looking your boyfriend in the face either

“Fucking brat.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes as you lay on your stomach, your hands tied to the bedpost with your ass high in the air. He continues to glare down at you and as much as you want to look back at him, you know better not to. You feel the bed dip and you nearly moan when his large hands grip at your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart so that he can touch your delicate slit. He flicks your clit and you bite the pillow beneath you. “Good girl.” Tsukishima praises, moving to rub three of his fingers along your soaked entrance, occasionally dipping his fingers to rub along your walls. You nearly whine when he removes his fingers and you can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips when he finally lays a brutal slap against your ass.

“Oh?” You can’t see his face but you know exactly what he looks like. In your head you can see the mild irritation covering his face as he stares down at you amusedly, you know how badly his cock is aching in his shorts at the redness covering your ass. “You like that, don’t you?” He sneers, smacking your behind a few times before going back down to rub your slit. He toys with your clit too much, giving you too much attention that you can’t hold any noises back. “What can I expect from such a dirty girl? Are you going to call me daddy again?”

You can hear him laughing and his words do nothing but make you clench around nothing, you push your ass higher into the air and moan loudly.

“Yes daddy, please.” You beg and nearly faint at how quiet the room gets. You’re almost afraid that you went too far, that he wasn’t ready for this just yet, but all your fears disappear when you feel his nimble length between your lower lips. Tsukishima preps himself in your natural lubricant as he tries not to cum from your words alone.

“Scream for daddy.” He chuckles darkly before entering you in one swift movement, his chest presses against your back and you see his hands on either side of your head. “So fucking tight.” Tsukishima grunts and pauses, trying to ignore how tightly you’re clenching around him. 

“Stop, if I fucking cum you’re cleaning it up.”  

[noctarcanum]

army dreamers || levi ackerman x male!oc

Rowan, the young, but promising marleyan warrior candidate was never famous for his ability to keep out of other people's businesses. After getting caught up in his family's history of titan experiments and genetically modified clans, his supervisors decide to harvest said curiosity and lack of discipline. He wakes up on a ship, sailing north, with a piece of paper in his backpack that has only one sentence written on it, over and over again: "Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home."

chapter one: the remaining

‘So, is it true?’

Zeke pushed himself away from the concrete wall he was leaning against.

‘What?’

‘That you’re the one to inherit it.’

The streets of the inner district got filled with busy adults, hurrying home from work. The two blonde boys slowly made their way through the crows, leaving the training center behind them. The setting sun painted an orange glow on the old, shiny stones and bricks.

‘Oh,’ Zeke sighed. ‘Yeah. But keep quiet!’

‘Quiet?’ Rowan exclaimed with sparkling eyes. ‘But this is awesome, you can finally be an honorary marleyan! You’re gonna be rich or some shit! Who knows about it?’

‘Those who need to know about it.’

Rowan walked next to him in silence, as he examined the stores they were passing by. Women with thicker arms than some warriors were carrying wooden boxes back from the street, cleaned the blackboards. He didn’t really understand why they had to clean them, after all, the same thing was advertised on them every day: potatoes and flour. Maybe because the price got higher and higher.

He thought about what his sister and mother did while he was away at training and then the interrogation. He doubted if Ma even got dressed.

‘Do you want to come over for dinner?’ asked Rowan. ‘You could tell Cornelia the big news!’

‘I was there yesterday…’

‘And?’

They turned at the corner but didn’t stop at Zeke’s house.

‘Do you think I have a bigger chance now to get the armored? I mean, you could say some nice things about me every now and then!’

‘Yeah, I’ll tell them about you. What nice things could I say to them, though? You are already on thin ice, that would just end up me also being punished.’

Rowan rolled his eyes but didn’t respond.

‘You’re being punished, right?’ Zeke inquired.

‘Well, yes, technically, no. They kept talking about all the things they can thank my family, and how it won’t protect me forever, and…’

‘They’re right, you know.’

‘I know,’ Rowan sighed. ‘Also, interrupt me again and you’re not getting dinner. As I was saying… they sort of agreed with me. Or I was just hallucinating out of stress.’

‘I highly doubt that’s a thing’ Zeke shook his head. ‘What on Earth did you say to them that they agreed?’

‘Well, they first shouted at me that I need to stop acting up, they can’t deal with me anymore in these times. You know, they’re about to plan the mission to retrieve the Founding… but they don’t even have proper candidates yet, they’re just stupid fuckers who never learned how to deal with pressure…’

‘Rowan, quiet!’

‘Shit, okay, got it!’ the younger frowned. ‘It was quite the speech they gave, though. About the titan experiments my ancestors did, and those… families. That the shifters they will have to send to Paradis will not only have to deal with those devils, but entire clans of genetically manipulated guard dogs, and they really don’t have the time to discipline me every time I’m too nosy. So, it got me thinking, and I just blurted it out, that they should get rid of the families first, then comes the hunt for the founding titan…’

Zeke raised a brow, his eyes locked on Rowan. He knew him too much, that tall monkey was already thinking, planning, or just revising ideas. His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of two soldiers, patrolling the narrow street.

‘When were they placed here?’ asked Rowan, as Zeke didn’t comment on the phenomenon.

‘They weren’t here yesterday,’ he muttered.

‘That’s why I asked, dumbass.’

Zeke yet again stayed silent – he did that an awfully lot of times. Rowan sometimes wondered if it simply was his nature, or he became like this after… what happened with Aunt Dina and Uncle Grisha. What he did not like to wonder about, is that what would happen to Cornelia and Ma if he got sent to paradise, like Zeke’s parents. Would they break down? Miss him? Rent out his bedroom immediately? Starve to death?

‘So, I only said the… plan or whatthefuckever to get them off my tail, but I think I really did give them ideas… I hope this makes me more favorable when it will come to the inheriting the armored titan!’ He had to blabber about something before his mind went to a darker place.

Rowan locked the front door behind them as they entered the narrow townhouse. Thick dust sat everywhere, around and on the once elegant leather shoes his mother used to wear but wasn’t picked up in weeks. The filth that Ma didn’t take care of quickly distracted him from the bad feeling he got from the soldiers on the street, this far from the fence.

‘Ma! Cornelia! Zeke is staying here tonight! What’s for dinner?’ he shouted, but got no answer, as usual.

They found his sister at the kitchen table, sleeping on top of a pile of textbooks. Her silver hair spread out on the pages, but he knew she studied for her pilot exams. Which she won’t be able to take if they’re not honorary marleyans. Another thought Rowan needed a distraction from.

Rowan gave Zeke a more comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants, after they both changed they headed back to the kitchen. Their cupboards were almost completely empty.

‘Didn’t you get the aid this month?’ Zeke glanced at him, after unsuccessfully searching for fresh ingredients.

‘The military has some good methods to keep up one’s motivation’ he shrugged. ‘We still have some potatoes and dry pasta somewhere, I think.’

They started working together in silence, Zeke knowing the kitchen just as good as Rowan. They boiled the potatoes, then the pasta, and added the remaining spices from the packet.

The meal was only enough for two.

Zeke automatically picked up one bowl and put it in front of Cornelia, who didn’t wake up to any of the noises they made.

Rowan gave the other to Ma, who even though had her eyes open, could have easily been asleep. He placed the warm bowl in her lap, guiding her bony, scarred hands to grab onto it, but her reaction to any of these arrived long seconds later. She didn’t seem to register his presence, not even when she sat up a bit on the sofa, and started eating, her greasy hair falling in front of her face, functioning like an old, ugly curtain. He stayed next to her for a while to make sure she didn’t stop after a few bites. Meanwhile, his mind wandered in his memories, trying to think back to the times his Ma was still pretty and healthy. Were they even real memories, or just the creation of a young little girl?

Zeke and he headed upstairs to get away from the smell of pasta that made their stomachs growl even louder.

‘Is it always going to be like this?’ Rowan asked quietly, not even expecting an answer.

‘This is what we signed up for.’

Rowan sat down on the bed, soon followed by Zeke. Their shoulders touched, but they didn’t pull away.

The bed they sat on barely counted as one, as it was one old mattress laid on the ground. He was supposed to get a frame, a few years back, Uncle Grisha promised to assemble one. This was the smallest promise that was broken.

He glanced out the window the mattress was placed next to. The two soldiers were still patrolling on their street.

‘We should sleep,’ said Zeke. ‘Or at least you should, you had a long day.’

So Rowan did. It was the last time he closed his eyes with full trust in the presence of him, as he didn’t wake up in his own bed the next morning. He didn’t even have any kind of bed under him, only smelly, wooden slats, and the scent of the sea around him.

He got up, thinking he was dreaming some bullshit again, but the wind in his long hair was too real. Everything got too real in mere seconds, just as the dozens of people a few feet away from him, all in chains. All in chains, except form him.

A nearby officer flinched as he spotted Rowan moving, his hand moving closer to the grip of his gun. He was clearly still a detainee, but some other kind. The ship they were on… was it sailing to Paradise? That was his supervisor’s solution to harmless bullshit he pulled sometimes? Turning him into the same mindless titan as traitors and murderers?

‘Hey, you rat.’ Burped the old officer, not even bothering to look in his direction anymore. ‘You’re not here for sightseeing, you have instructions.’

Rowan opened his backpack with trembling hands. It was almost empty – it had a water bottle in it, his knife that he trained with, and a piece of paper that got smudged ink all over it.

It had the same sentence written on it over and over again, mimicking the punishment they used on first graders in school. He couldn’t tell if it was Zeke’s or Cornelia’s handwriting.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

[leviiattacks]

March 1885

his body slumps against yours the ghost of a whimper can be heard.

“levi ackerman. break my legs if you have it in you, but i’ll only crawl back.” and that's all he needs. your low whisper is all that is required for him to dedicate his heart to you.

devotion.

what it does to the heart is truly despicable.

is it not?

author note :: dates will vary for chapters so pay attention to the title, i hope you enjoy i have been planning this for a while now :-) pairing :: knight!levi x princess!reader genre :: everything really, angst... hm words :: 1k warnings :: corsets mentioned just wanted to add this here in case of body image issues etc

limited honour contents page (check to read in the correct chapter order !!!)

Your undying hatred for the colour green may just become the death of you.

The walls of your bedroom have forever been accented in it, the drapes which frame your windows are the same irritably murky shade.

The Palace gardens aren't home to much life meaning all you really get to see when you longingly gaze out of your windows is the same muddy olive. You long to be let out, allowed to see if outside of these walls there's a life filled with colour.

The only time you're ever blessed with the reward of colour is at noon. Sun settling down into the ridges of the sky you're able to relish in the tangerine infused cerise. It's mind numbing to watch and you eventually discover that you're never quite able to get used to it.

"Is it really that important for me to wear makeup?" You ask, legs dangling off the plush chair you're sat on. Your mother gives you a pitiful look upon hearing your question. Much too young to be concerned with marriage, yet much too old to not care for appearances. This is only the start of a life you don't wish to live.

She doesn't respond. Her fingers instead occupy themselves with the task of fastening her corset.

Before she pulls at the ribbon the ghost of a blooming bruise catches your eyes but you don't inquire. The last time you asked she made you swear on everything in the world to not say a word. So you didn't.

The cage around her torso is still unfamiliar and you wince at the way it squeezes against her uneasily. It looks like an uncomfortable second layer of ribs - instead of providing protection it only highlights pain.

"Don't worry. I'm used to it beaut. It's like makeup, you'll get used to makeup eventually." She tries to sound convincing but you don't buy it. You're sure the corset would be easier on her waist had she not fallen off Father's horse a few weeks back. Why can't she just not wear it this once? She is injured after all.

Drawing your brows back you can't believe anyone could ever be able to grow used to whatever a corset is. Up until recently you had assumed corsets weren't all that and were pretty easy to work with but seeing one face to face is completely different.

Mother and you are silently aware of the fact it presses arduously onto her purple bruising.

"It feels wrong." You finally say out loud.

“It feels wrong that you have to wear a cors-” She cuts you off before you can finish.

“Silence.” Voice unyielding and slightly irked you second guess wanting to voice your opinion out again.

But you’ve forever been stubborn and instead of retiring you match her pace cutting her off in the same fashion as she did you.

“Intoler-”

"And the makeup. It feels heavy and I don't like it. I think I look funny. My lips are far too red. This feels ridiculous. Can’t I make my own choices?"

Your mother says your name firm and fixed in simmering anger.

“I may be your mother, despite that I am still your Queen.” A hand is slammed down onto your vanity, flinching you aren’t able to move away in time — she’s thrown the book you were just reading away to the floor, allowing for the pages to bend uncomfortably.

Reaching out to grab for it again you’re held back by a firm grip on your arm. You don’t dare move another inch afraid what of what your mother is capable of doing. 

Then it hits you. Shuddering you identify that the hand holding you back is smaller than your mother’s, twisting around your Knight is within view.

Eyes widening, horror fills you at his interjection he could be gravely punished for meddling in Royal affairs.

To your surprise he’s spared without a second thought.

“Levi, I forgot you were in the room. You may excuse yourself.” He can’t ignore a clear, direct order from the Queen.

The young knight looks between the two of you unsure for a second if he should depart but he understands he has no power in this situation. Even if he wants to aid you he’ll be unable to do so.

In less than a minute you hear the opening and closing of your door.

Levi has left.

"Remind yourself of your country. Our people are dying, starving from the famine." Her words are carefully chosen, she wants to leave a permanent mark on you.

"The sooner you or one of your sisters finds a marriage proposal from a neighbouring Kingdom the better off Obravia will be."

"But, makeup? What does make- Wait marriage? Right now? I've only just started my Advanced English classes and- And, Mama I'm fourteen??" Utterly flabbergasted is what you are. You know you're the youngest and it's one of your older sisters on the chopping block but it's difficult to fathom your mother is remotely okay with this prospect for any of her daughters.

Gentle expression long gone, bottom lip caught between her teeth her brows furrow. You can't tell if your possible defiance has left her breathless or if it's the work of the vice around her waist. Whatever it is you remain unwilling to meet her uncompromising stare.

"As you grow old you learn there are matters you will have no say in. Even as my youngest child you hold great responsibility within this Kingdom."

Her downturned frown twitches at your next movement.

Swiping a hand over your mouth your Mother's hard work is destroyed within seconds. The red lining of your lips completely smudged. You resemble one of the Royal Jesters.

Stupidly, you’re foolish enough to ask for what your heart yearns.

"And if I don't want to be responsible? If I want to spend my days reading books and studying? Unmarried?"

It doesn’t end well.

But when does it ever?

That night you end up leaving your chambers with even more powder and paint coating your face. It’s practically been pounded onto your cheeks without consent.

When you return from the ball you find your bookshelf empty, not a single novel in sight. Even the book she threw away has vanished.

It serves as your punishment.

Your reality check that Princesses do not receive everything they desire.

[truly-madly-slytherin]

The Dark Princess

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

A/N: Hello loveliessss! 🌸 so I’m hoping that my writing in this chapter has improved somewhat from the last and that it is as magical for you to read as it was for me to write ☺️ I appreciate every like, reblog and follow so thank you all so much 🥰🥰 there’s a bit of a jump between the prologue and the main story so this is more of a filler chapter and in case anyone is confused she has the diary because Tom makes sure (Y/N) intercepts it in between Ginny getting rid of it and Harry finding it. Alsooo I suck at introductions so bear with me 😅 Happy reading peoples! 🥳🥳 Italics = flashback/dream, (E/C) = your eye colour, (H/C) = hair colour

Summary: It is the beginning of the summer after your fourth year and you are moving into Riddle House with your father, at his insistence, making you think back to when you first met him during your second year at Hogwarts. You won’t be there for long though... 

Pairing: AU Lord Voldemort x daughter!reader, Tom Riddle x OC!

*I don’t own any of these characters except the OC, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the filmmakers

 PROLOGUE

Chapter One

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Riddle House once stood as the most prestigous mansion in Little Hangleton. Now whimpering on top of the hill, a ghostly shell of itself; it’s derelict and decrepit condition reflected the sinister history encased within the walls. Each room explored was more somber than the last, and emptiness clouded the air so thick it was almost suffocating.

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you traipse down the hallway, your father a few steps ahead.

“And now... we have the kitchen” he announces with a flourish of his arm. Dimly lit by a grubby window, the room, like the rest of the house, left a lot to be desired. Tiles hung from the walls whilst every surface was caked in decades worth of dust. Cobwebs strewn here and there, the sink was more rust than steel and there was a large cavity where the cooker once stood.

“It’s.... interesting” you force out, the weak taste of iron flooding your tastebuds as you bring your teeth down on the flesh of your bottom lip. Taking out his wand Voldemort flicks his wrist and the dingy room quickly transforms itself into a modern kitchen.

“Wow!” you whisper running your fingers along the cool marble.

Turning to face you, his nonexistent lips contort into a terrifyingly sweet crescent. “Luckily I had the foresight to prepare your bedroom before you arrived.”

Trudging back through the hallway, you take time to notice the portraits hanging along the wall, a series of black smudges where the faces once were. Wandering upstairs you spot a door with a wooden rose-embossed sign reading ‘Y/N’s Fortress’.

“Here goes nothing” you sigh.

Entering, a gasp escapes your lips. In the middle of the large room stood a king sized four-poster bed, adorned with a rose quilted headboard and white chiffon curtains. To your left was a beautiful vintage french dressing table complete with matching bedside tables decorated in tiny hand-painted black, red and pink roses. The grand wardrobe standing beside it, decorated in the same tiny roses, could surely house more garments than you even owned. To your right hung a wicker swing seat, pink rose buds woven throughout, appearing as though it was made entirely from the delicate plants, positioned perfectly in view of the large Edwardian window. Hanging above the headboard were pictures of you, your mother and father, clipped evenly along a piece of string intertwined with fairy lights, glistening as each scene plays out before you.

“I mustn’t take any credit, Bellatrix was in charge of the preparations.” Your father states watching you from the doorway.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

Voldemort set about fixing the rest of the house giving you time to settle and take it all in. Lying on the soft mattress, you think back to the first time you met your father, a stark constrast to the man you know today.

Sitting at your desk the blank pages stare back at you and your fingers rake through your messy (H/C) curls for the hundredth time. Front to back the diary was barer than the day it was made.

You had been in the girls bathroom during lunch when you noticed something on the floor. Finding a small black book with leather as soft as feathers and gold lettering along the bottom, you pick it up to inspect it further.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” 

Your eyebrows crease as the name rolls off your tongue, a frown etching it’s way onto your forehead. What would a boys diary be doing in the girls bathroom? Nevertheless you keep the book, and make your way to class, letting it burn a hole through your satchel until the end of the day. Your last class was Potions and with any luck it would go quickly. Settling into your seat, you spin around to the cute blonde haired boy behind you.

“Is there any one at Hogwarts named Tom Riddle?” You ask him, red hot flames licking at your cheeks as his crystal blue eyes meet yours.

“Not that I know of. And I know everyone who is anyone around here” he snorted. Choosing to ignore the radiating arrogance you turn back to the front, mind racing. The diary didn’t belong to a Hogwarts student at all, so how on earth did it end up in our bathroom?

Your leg jerks up and down repeatedly below the desk and your eyes wander back to the clock. 3:43pm. Exactly one minute had passed from the last time you checked. Ahead of you Professor Snape is droning on about a potion you hadn’t yet caught the name of. 

“And the 5th step in the brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion is...?” Snape drawls out, his beady eyes searching out his next victim. Chewing on your lip you try to concentrate, to no avail.

“Miss Rosier?” His expectant eyes land on you, lips curling into a signature smirk.

“A-add more salamander blood until the potion turns t-turquoise” you splutter.

“Very good. Someone who has obviously been making notes, wouldn’t you agree Mr Weasley?” The air escapes your lungs with a whoosh as he narrows his eyes at Ron across the room. Ron gulps, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the crimson blush now creeping up his cheeks.

Finally the clock stikes 4 and you make sure you’re the first one out, darting between the students and managing to make it halfway through the dungeons before the bell rings out. “Pureblood” you mutter, the portrait swinging open. “Ooh someone’s in a hurry!” Paying no mind to the painting you dash up the stairs.

“Tracey?”

“Daphne?”

With no answer you plonk down at your desk and begin writing.

“My name is Y/N Rosier, and this is my diary.” 

Your (E/C) eyes go round, lids refusing to blink as you watch the words slowly sink into the page. Your small hands vigorously rub at them and yet the page remains just as blank as it had been originally. Your brain scrambles to make some sense of what is happening, but not giving your thoughts a chance to untangle themselves, words begin to materialise across the page.

“Hello Y/N.”

Curiosity trumping any thought of sense, the tip of your quill connects with the aged paper once more. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

And I am your father.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The fluttering birds that previously occupied your ribcage die out as your heart threatens to beat right out of your chest, pumping ice throughout your veins at an ungodly speed. The pounding in your ears nears defeaning as the middle of the book suddenly throws out streaks of blinding light.

Regaining your vision you’re surrounded by stone walls and green glowing lamps. The click-clack of shoes echo through the dungeon as hushed whispers become audible.

“No Tom! I told you- I warned you- I told you something bad would happen- that something so evil would surely have consequences, and you ignored me. And now look! A girl has died Tom!” The young woman vigorously shakes her head, her wild ginger curls bouncing about her face while she scolds the boy. 

“Lower your voice before somebody hears you.” He hisses, the pair coming to a halt in front of you. His lips curl into a sneer as his large hand wraps around her dainty wrist. “I am Lord Voldemort after all.” 

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” she seethes. Snatching her wrist from his grasp, her perfectly manicured finger points at his face. “Your name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle and I am not one of your little followers bowing down at your feet and kissing your arse! And most importantly Tom, I am not scared of you!” She storms off and Tom continues hot on her heels as you scurry behind. 

“For Merlins sake! Fleur wait-” Blocking her path, Tom’s hands come to rest on the girl’s arms, this time gently caressing her skin. “I’m sorry I should never have spoken to you like that, I don’t want you to be scared of me... I forget myself sometimes. Forgive me?” His hands move to cup her cheeks, and her slender arms wrap loosely around his torso as her anger seemingly dissolves.

“Well don’t forget yourself too much around me otherwise one day you may turn around and I won’t be here Tom.” At least a foot shorter than him, his chin rested comfortably atop her head. 

“Don’t worry, Princess, it won’t be long now before I am crowned the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” Her head buried into his chest ignoring the icy tones lacing the boys words.

Your hand shoots to the base of your skull as a dull ache begins to resonate. ‘He needs to work on his landings.’

“Y/N there you are! Where were you? We missed you at supper. And what on earth are you doing on the floor?” Daphne gives you a quizzical look before extending her hand and helping you up.

As you dust off your robes you try to think of a convincing lie. “I wasn’t feeling very well after Potions. I had to run straight to the loo and then came to lie down - I suppose I must have fainted.” With a shrug of your shoulders you begin to change out of your robes, Daphne following suit.

“Lumos.”

With everyone else now asleep you decide to take your chance to figure out just what on earth is going on. The faint glow illuminates the makeshift tent you had created with your bedcovers, an inkpot balanced expertly between your knees and quill secured between your teeth. Opening the diary with your free hand you reposition the wand. 

“Are you there?”

Just as before the ink disappears, so sucking in a breath you stare at the page. After a few moments nothing had changed. ‘Of course it’s blank you bloody idiot. I must be going bloody barmy!’ 

Before you could finish scolding yourself, the words appear across the page.

“Hello again Y/N.”

“What happened earlier?” Not having much time you wanted to get straight to the point. 

“No beating around the bush, I like it. Just like your mother.”

“My mother Fleur?”

“Yes, Fleur. She truly was a wonderful witch. Say, do you think you could do me a favour Y/N?” 

You weigh up your options before replying. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” 

“I will answer all of your questions, but it must be in person.”

“But how would I? You couldn’t even see me earlier.”

“I will show you how, just go to the girls bathroom on the first floor.”

Under the mask of the invisibility spell you sneak out of the common room, diary clasped tightly under your arm. Moving through the dungeons it doesn’t take you long to reach the first floor bathroom. As you await your instructions you begin to feel a strong magnetic pull towards one of the sinks. Unable to resist you move to stand opposite. Lightly tracing the stone serpent beneath your fingertips, your mouth opens and words of a language unknown to you flow out. Suddenly the marble sink shifts to reveal a vertical tunnel.

“Jump Y/N. Jump!”

Without giving it a second thought you launch yourself down the hole. Your face scrunches up like a ball of paper as you brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Landing on something soft and scaly, you open your eyes.

Below you was the largest snake you had ever laid eyes on, with skin the colour of green ivy and piercing red orbs easily the size of your skull, if not bigger. Bowing down, it repositions your body on its spiky head, and begins speeding through the tunnels. Coming to a stop in front of a large stone monument, the creature bends down and gently slides your slim frame off, and onto the wet floor.

As you stand upright, a silhouette steps out from the cover of the shadows.

"My darling Y/N..."

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Bolting upright, your confused eyes dart around the room. The sky was now jet black and above you the fairy lights were glowing softly in the darkness. Rolling your legs off of the bed you answer the door to find your father standing on the other side, arms tucked neatly behind his back. 

“My apologies love, did I wake you?” he asks with a level of affection you hadn’t been expecting.

“Yes but no matter, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the first place” you reassure him, shrugging off the last remnents of sleep. 

“Very well. I have some unexpected business to attend to, and as you are still new to this house I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, so I have arranged for you to stay with a dear friend of mine for the remainder of the summer” he states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for compromise. 

“Oh. I hoped I would be staying here for the summer.” 

With your (E/C) doe-eyes and lips pouting just enough to be noticeable, you were the image of your mother when she was sulking, and Voldemort found a dull warmth spreading throughout him at the reminder of the distant memory. 

“I know Princess I do apologise. I hoped we would have the opportunity to bond during your time away from Hogwarts. However the situation is simply unavoidable.” 

“Fine” you sigh in defeat. “So who will I be staying with? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll be staying with the Malfoy’s.”  

[hooniee]

   — ꒰‧⁺celsia *ೃ༄

↷ jungwon x reader  ⋯ ♡ᵎ: 

↷ genre: romance | mystery ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: mention of blade to cut open book! | not proofread!⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷synopsis:  (y/n)’s boring life gets a little bit better, finding a mystery journal⋯ ♡ᵎ

⇢˚⋆ ✎ author note: hello! this is for @enhypenwriters​ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 this one out of the three stories i made! this one was definitely fun to write and maybe i’ll expand on it later! enjoy!ˎˊ-

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

“celsia’s kingdom was-”

the abrasive scraping of white chalk on the chalkboard had come to a halt. the bell chimes, the more petite hand of the clock was precisely striking 3:00 pm.

ms. jeon glimpses up before allowing a long-awaited sigh, laying the chalk in its corresponding place. dusting off her hands of residue, she concluded our class.

“alright, guys! let’s stop there, we’ll proceed where we left off tomorrow.”

the class arose from their seats, bowing to her before she exited. classmates exalt their breath and stretch their bodies from being restrained in a desk for the prior eight hours.

the rackets of shuffling books being shoved in bags and hurried footsteps came from every corner of the school. chatter goes throughout regarding how dull ms. jeon’s history lesson was.

“who even cares about the past anymore?”

“the princes were never found right?”

“you guys up for some norebang? at han’s?”

while your classmates debated on what karaoke place they intended on hanging out at, you hastily shove the remainder of papers in your bag, not minding if they would be creased.

readjusting your hair slightly, you rise from your seat and attempt to quickly boot it to the door.

“(y/n)! don’t you want to come with us?”

someone seized the end of your sleeve. you turn around to see shin ryujin, the class president, and someone you could view as a friend. 

her freshly tinted grey hair nevertheless had a shock factor on you.

“sorry ryu! i have to get to the library,” you warmly took her hand and squeezed it, before dashing off.

“this girl,” ryujin sighs

"where is (y/n) going?" vice president asked ryujin

"library again"

you had quietly forced your way through the masses of people before having a hand tug at your blazer, causing you to lightly tumble back.

you turn to see heeseung.

“(y/n)! where are you going in such a hurry? i was just about to try to find you to ask you if you wanted to come to the arcade with us? we invited some of our friends from saebom as well,” heeseung interrogates.

sunoo pops up from behind him, “come on (y/n)! i’ll be so much fun, please it’ll be so much fun.”

sunoo was your classmate while heeseung was your upperclassman. sunoo and you were selected to be lab comrades last year and have been friends ever since. that's where he introduced you to his remaining friends, heeseung and underclassman, ni-ki.

as much as you desired to accept their proposal, you remember the library and time was ticking before it closed.

you bowed your head, “i’m sorry guys! but i have to do something important. what about we all hang out tomorrow? you can invite your friends from saebom and i’ll treat all of you guys to a meal? how does that sound?”

sunoo pouts, “alright then”

“get there safe,” you bowed your head.

“see you-” before heeseung could complete his sentence, you had already fled off.

“where is she in a hurry too?” ni-ki abruptly enters the discussion, studying your disappearing silhouette

“OH MY, don’t give me a heart attack ni-ki” heeseung holds his hand above his heart.

“whatever grandpa,” ni-ki snorts before sprinting

“what did you just say to me? get back here,” heeseung commences chasing after him

“i wish (y/n) would have come,” sunoo shakes his head before attempting to catch up with them.

you eventually arrive at the library, catching a few breaths in and noticing ms. kim sitting down in her normal spot.

you take a deep breath, before entering the library. the tiny bell above the door executes a noise, gaining ms. kim's attention.

she glances over to see you and smiles widely. she gets up from her seat to welcome you, “(y/n), you’re here just in time! the new books are on the back table, left side.”

“thank you ms. kim!” you bow to her, with a big smile on your face.

glimpsing round, the library was moderately bare except for two or three students that were distributed from tables.

you headed back to see the fresh heap of new history books that rested on the small birch polished table.

these weren’t unspecified history books, they were royal books.

ms. kim was a historian before a librarian so she was capable of getting her hands on some books about the disappeared royal family from centuries ago.

you smiled at the collection that grazed your eyes. you choose a book that was nearly the measurement of a binder.

you had tenderly dusted off the cover, as you open it. you slightly cough at the quantity of dust the books have garnered 

the publication titled read, “celsia, the royals”

the backbone of the book had been fastened back together, implying you must be cautious when reading.

turning each rusted paper sparingly, you could observe the old castle in which the royal family had occupied before it grew abandoned. 

it was a beautiful interior, built out of the most luxurious rose quartz that anybody could fancy of in that era.

the chandelier that draped in the main room was constructed in the purest gold that was handcrafted by only the best chandelier.

their disappearances were continuously something that was whisked beneath the rug.

we studied briefly about it in history class but we always end at a set point because there was nothingness beyond that.

there remained no traces of foul play at all, it was like everything had vanished inside the castle. all belongings of the families were taken and the only items they could find were some rings that showed to be discarded.

there were three rings, made for the three succeeding crowned princes.

sapphire; purity, wisdom, and chastity

assigned to the oldest of the sons as he was waiting to be the next crowned prince, a face and personality that reflected purity

ruby; nobility, purity, passion

assigned to the middle son, fascinated about archery. the desire to be the greatest hunter in the kingdom. a soul abundant of passion

and lastly,

emerald; wit, eloquence, and foresight

assigned to the youngest son with a voice that could put the whole town to slumber. though the youngest could wield the responsibility like the oldest son.

you softly caress the pages while browsing through the information. it was practically always the identical facts but you couldn’t help but learn how each historian put it in their own words. 

you had gingerly closed the book before proceeding onto the next one.

this book, strangely, didn’t have a name.

the cover was made of brown leather, with J, engraved on the silver button that fastened the book closed.

matter a fact, it wasn’t like a textbook but as a diary

‘who has diaries like this anymore?’ you thought to yourself.

you shrug the thought aside and undo the clasp.

brushing at the pages, you could scarcely obtain any of the words. they were inscribed in cursive and it seems that the ink has smudge.

flipping through the so-called journal, you could gain some phrases.

“castle”

“my older brother”

“rose quartz”

to you, the messages didn’t correlate with anything considering the smudged ink left the words in ruins.

flipping to the end of the diary, you scan the back of the cover.

if you happened to not spare a secondary glance, you wouldn’t have noticed that petite tear that was sliced into the leather.

peering closer, you could see the incision that was nearly flawlessly adhered together.

you were further too curious to place it down, so you went to ms. kim to check it out.

“is this all you want to take home (y/n)?” ms. kim inquiries, scanning the book and your library card.

“yup! that’s all for now,” you chirp.

she pauses for the receipt and fixes it on top of the diary.

“see you (y/n)!” ms. kim waves.

you bow before hastening home, diary in hand. you quickly fish out your keys from the backpack.

the door unlocks before you barge in and toss your bag on the floor. you slide off your shoes and quickly speed to the kitchen.

“where are they? where are they?” you ransack around the cabinet

“ah! there they are,” drawing a sharp box cutter.

setting the diary on the countertop, you open it to the back page. you mindfully compose the incision larger beginning from where the adhesive is and all the way down.

“got it!” you shout, placing the box cutter down.

you thoroughly unfold the slit a little wider to see a piece of something in there. you pull it out to reveal a photograph.

you smile, thinking it was probably a journal of someone’s life story and this photograph has special meaning to them.

you glance over and your eyes widen as you examine it. 

"that's not-"

you squint your eyes at the worn photograph and go straight to the lamp, shining light to see more precisely.

your mouth drops wide open when you realized it was true, clasping your left hand over your mouth.

though the photograph’s colors were faded, there stood the three princes wearing suit colors that matched their rings.

it was a miniature photograph that could comfortably fit in someone's wallet.

sapphire; puppy-like, doe eyes that are filled to the line with love

ruby; the fairest skin, plump lips that were painted red like his passion

emerald: sharp eyes that won’t deceive, dimples that mark his cheek

‘did i just find one of their journals?’ you question.

no photographs of the princes or royal family were ever recovered. it was rumored that they had a significant family portrait, but even that was nowhere to be found in the castle.

holding tightly to the photograph, you hasten to your laptop. there was no rush but the adrenaline that was elevating in your heart said otherwise.

you had opened a new browser tab and started typing swift.

“photograph on the missing three princes”

“celsia’s crowned princes”

“celsia royal family photos”

no matter how much scowering on the internet you did, you couldn’t find any traces of this photo anywhere.

you were gazing at the screen for hours, working to find any data you could.

your eyes became weak as the room grew dim but yet, you still didn’t budge from your spot.

‘maybe i should try the news tag’ you thought.

you clicked on the tag and the first article that popped up

“belongings of the three princes are being found after centuries"

browsing through the article, the grip on the photo became tighter.

it didn’t make sense to you. for centuries, they’ve never attained anything in the castle or anything about the castle. now suddenly, items of the three princes were coming into play.

it appeared like they were planted there on purpose, but it would be impracticable. the whole royal family would be deceased by now.

you looked at the photo one more time to admire the handsome princes. though all were handsome in their own way, emerald caught your eye.

sharp eyes and sharp jaw, yet the eyes hold so much sweetness and the smile holds so much grace. he caught your eye the second you studied the photograph.

emerald was someone interesting.

you cried, “only if guys looked like this in my school.”

the clock ticks, making you look up at it. it just became 8 pm.

you yawned. you desired to do more investigation but tomorrow's test in history was retaining you back.

that clicks in your head.

‘i’ll just ask ms. jeon! maybe she’ll know something’ you made a mental note, as you had just physically printed it on your brain.

you decided to call it a night, eyes dropping down from the intense amount of looking at the computer.

the next morning, you were depleted with your brain being over-exerted last night. you made sure to get up a bit earlier to study on your way to school.

you were ready were putting your shoes on, the photograph caught the corner of your eye. 

you debated whether you wanted to keep it at home or take it with you.

‘it would be safe here but what if someone tries to break into my house?’ 

irrational thoughts came to mind and in the end, you decided to seal it in the journal and bringing it to school with you.

before any second-guessing, you shove the journal into your backpack and rush your way to school.

you wanted nothing other than history class, last period. your mind was tingling with problems that needed solutions.

you hardly made it when the bell went off. you rushed up the stairs, to study hall, seeing ryujin already there.

ryujin sees you and flashes a smile, signaling to you

“(y/n)! over here,” ryujin pats down the seat next to her.

you smile, heading over and sitting down.

"sorry for leaving so suddenly yesterday, the library got new books! you know? the usual" you acted cool

"no problem. i know you well, book nerd," she snorted.

letting out a big sigh, you bring out your history textbook to aim to recall as sufficient information as you could in this brief 25 minute period.

ryujin resumes playing on her phone before she peers over to you. she corks her eyebrow in puzzlement.

“what are you doing?’

now it was your turn to be confused, “studying for our history test for ms. jeon?"

“ah you didn’t hear? ms.jeon isn’t here so that means no test, isn’t that amazing?” ryujin cheers.

the news disheartens you ever so little.

thought you didn’t have to cram information, your heart sinks a little with your curiosity raging as a furnace overflowed with gold.

why did this tug at your heartstrings? it was simply because you were curious right?

“yeah that’s amazing!” you shakily cheer.

you restlessly bounce your leg and illogical reasoning surge your brain.

‘i need to ask her now! but why do i? why do i feel so anxious? my heart feels like it’s beating out of control’

and your head wouldn't stay still even when ms. jeon class rolls around, the time ticks by way too slow. 

“and make sure-”

the bell jolts you out of your seat and you immediately gather up your things. if people were to see you, they might think you were being pursued.

you were strained as is and you try to bolt out of school before someone clutches your wrist.

“where are you going?” 

you turn around to see heeseung clinging onto you

“home?” you cork an eyebrow.

why was heeseung asking an impractical question? it was a wednesday, where else would you be going?

“home? aren’t you coming with us to the arcade? we invited our friends from saebom as well,” heeseung asked, troubled

your mind clicks. you have plans with heeseung and his friends today. you weren't in the best headspace and entirely blanked.

“ah right! i’m sorry, i forgot. let’s go,” you stiffly smile.

“you’re fine. sunoo! ni-ki! ready?” heeseung calls them over, swinging his arm over your shoulders.

sunoo rushes over while ni-ki trudges behind. ni-ki yawns while sunoo squeals at your presence.

“is (y/n) coming with us today?” sunoo cheers linking arms with you.

“yup, and she’s treating us to a meal,” ni-ki smirks

“you boys are going to be the death of me,” you groan, recognizing the deal you presented yesterday.

heeseung laughs and you make your way to the arcade. you guys, the disordered and noisy quadruplets, stumble in.

the arcade was a generous size than the ones you've been to previously. they had more selections of machines and the building was coated in bright colors.

it’s jammed with students in diverse uniforms from all around town with their friends. probably trying to shake the pressure of exam season.

“heeseung hyung!” someone calls out.

“jay!” you glance over to see a boy with bleach blonde hair with silver, swaying earrings, coming over with three followings behind him.

they do a bro-shake, asking each other's day before jay’s eyes land on you.

“oh i don’t think we’ve met before, i’m jay,” he stretches his hand out to you

jay was a few inches shorter than heeseung, stocky rings on both hands, a few piercings on his ears, and someone who was attentive to his fashion.

“i’m (y/n). nice to meet you,” you softly shake his hand

the three boys jostle jay aside before speaking.

“we haven’t met her either, let us,” a soft voice intervenes.

you glance up and at that moment, you assumed your eyes were playing tricks on you.

meeting with the pair of doe eyes that were meant to be captured into a photograph.

your heart sinks to your abdomen, blood drawing through your veins so harshly, causing your whole body to flush.

'there was no way that this was them?' you soothed the uneasy thoughts.

sapphire

“i’m jake! it’s nice to meet you”

his gummy smile reflects the happiness from his tone

ruby

“park sunghoon,”

he bows his head, fair skin that gleams that only princes could accomplish

emerald

“i’m jungwon, it’s nice to meet you”

his sharp eyes turn into small crescents, dimple prominent.

you glance around at the three boys.

"jungwon or jake?"

you vaguely remember the notebook, having the engraving of J on the button of the diary.

"the book addressed his older brothers. that indicates it would be jungwon since he was the youngest and jake was the oldest"

you bow to them, wanting to see if getting a glance of their hands would lead to anything. 

no rings on

right, the rings were founded in the castle. they wouldn't possess it on their body.

“it’s nice to meet you too, i’m (y/n)”

glancing at them, you see capture something from the arcade light. on all of their left ears, hangs an earring that correlates with their colors

gold chain with a small, round sapphire on the end

silver chain with a small, triangle ruby on the end

rose gold chain with a small, heart emerald on the end

it was them. this couldn't be a coincidence.

emerald or jungwon was standing directly in front of you

“let’s go play some games guys!” sunoo shouts before he drags you.

sunoo breaks our introduction. grabbing your arm, he pulls you away to an air hockey table.

sunoo plays against ni-ki as you watch. jay and heeseung verse each other on the basketball game.

you watch around the arcade, observing the happy smiles of people. you smile too before feeling a tap on your shoulder.

you turn to see jake, sunghoon, and jungwon. the three princes.

it became quiet for a minute as you look eye contact with jungwon before sunghoon talks up on the behalf of his younger brother.

“um, jungwon has something he has to tell you,” sunghoon says before bumping jungwon ahead.

“u-um,” jungwon stutters out.

you smother a laugh. one of the crowned princes of celsia kingdom was in front of you, stuttering and reddening.

“don’t be nervous jungwon! i don’t bite”

“can i have your number?” he blurts and now it’s your turn to be startled

'that was unexpected'

“s-sure,” you stutter out as he hands you his phone.

his phone wasn't anything out of the ordinary. an iPhone 8 plus and there was nothing that symbolized he was a prince. the home screen packed with several games.

you enter your phone number and hand him back his phone.

he bows and the three princes are about to leave before you stop them.

this could be awkward if this was synchronicity but you were practically sure it wasn't. reactions will tell the truth.

“jungwon! i need to say something to you, can you come closer?” you smile.

he's confused but complies, leaning into you.

you whisper in his ear, “ whether this applies to you or not, i’m onto you, emerald prince”

he lets out a choked sound, alarming you. you smirk, bowing and heading towards jay and heeseung who were near to destroying the basketball machine.

'bingo'

jake tugs jungwon back and the three of them head to one of the secretive corners of the arcade.

“what did she say?” jake questions

"yeah, what made you choke up like that? you never get surprised like that," sunghoon examines. 

“she’s onto us,” jungwon grunts.

sunghoon and jake look at each other, eyes widening in the process.

“b-but how? we made sure no traces of us would be found-”  sunghoon rambles.

the three princes grew anxious together, questioning how they could meet you again. 

this was the secret that they were expected to remain to the three of them and now an added person knows.

“i don’t know! but she somehow knows and we can’t let her tell anybody,” jungwon groans

"we have to do something," jake sighs.

you felt holes being pierced onto your back, generating an unsettled vibe within you.

“i’m keeping an eye out for you (y/n) “ jungwon flashes.

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

All Over Again → Kim Seokjin

↳  Pairing: Jin/Reader

↳  Word count: 2,203

⁙  Summary: Seokjin has always been in love with you, even if at an early age you had been stricken with memory degradation and memory loss.

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

It wasn’t your fault. It was the way you were born, the way you had been destined to be. More than forgetful, more than scrambling around your house wondering where you had left your phone charger. It was forgetting things that just happened. It was forgetting about your friends, the things you loved and the things you wanted to do.

Your memory hadn’t always been like this. You had friends, you had a family, you had hobbies, likes and dislikes, favourite foods and favourite books, but over time things began to fall further and further from your brain. Eventually, a number of things you could remember were how to walk, eat, speak, read, and write.

One thing you always knew was that, no matter what, you seemed to make the people around you sad. You never understood why- you hardly knew anyone. People who came to visit you always had frowned when you asked their names and tears welled up in their eyes when you didn’t know the answers to any of their questions. It was so confusing. Why was everyone so… gloomy?

~

“Seokjin, I know how much you care about her, but… she doesn’t remember you,” your mother commented sadly to the boy standing outside your room with a bouquet of flowers. “She hardly even remembers us now. Her memory is too degraded.”

Seokjin, the boy who had loved you since preschool only smiled warmly in her direction. “That’s okay,” he replied. “I’d like to talk to her anyway if that’s alright.”

“Honey, be my guest, I think she would enjoy some company other than me.”

You turned your head away from your colouring book as the door handle to your room turned and clicked, the door soon opening. The light from the large window cast a bright and nearly blinding light into the nearly completely white room you were in, causing your visitor to squint as he walked in. You watched this new person enter with curiosity, enjoying the blast of colour that followed him in that took the shape of multicoloured flowers.

“Hi there,” he greeted, smiling over at you. “Mind if I sit?”

“Hi,” you say in return, shoving your book and pencil crayons off to one side. “You can sit down if you want. My name’s (Y/N).”

The boy took the padded seat next to your bed, gently placing down the flowers in your lap. “I know.”

“How?” You wonder aloud. “We’ve never met before.”

The boy smiled at you, and you saw something in his eyes that you had somehow seen before, but you couldn’t exactly place where you had. His plump lips were curved upwards in the most… how could you say… calming way, his fingers leaving the bouquet wrappings to the sheets of your bed, running a finger along the fabric. You blushed by only watching his movements.

“I’ve known you for a long time, actually. My name is Seokjin, but you used to call me Jinny. You’ve always been the only one allowed to call me that.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the flowers, smiling at them. “I like these, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I knew you would like them, they’ve always been your favourite,” he said, his fingers moving back to the flowers, taking one of the yellow petals in between his thumb and forefinger.

“What are they?”

“They’re roses, painted in all the colours you like. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple,” Jin explains, and you look back at him with a smile.

“I love every colour,” you say proudly, sitting up a bit straighter.

“I know you do.” Jin’s smile faltered slightly. Tilting your head in curiosity, you watched him look down at his wrist, gently pull back his sleeve and look at a watch. The way he delicately did such a simple thing made your heart beat a little faster.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing, don’t worry. Say, what were you drawing?” He asked.

“I was drawing?” You wonder, looking to your left to find you book sitting next to you. “Oh.” You reach out to grab the book, flipping through to see your most recent drawing. “I guess I was drawing this.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the page. You never knew that you drew it, and the person whose face you drew looked familiar. You squinted at the page before holding it upright beside Jin’s face. You looked from him to the drawing, noticing that they looked nearly identical. An oval sculpted face, heart-shaped lips, thin, square eyes, round nose and tousled brown hair.

“Hey, (Y/N), are you okay?” Jin gently grasped the paper and flipped it over when you fully handed it over to him. However, his reaction to seeing what was on the page wasn’t what you expected. Instead of wide, stunned eyes, he just smiled, looking over your face again. “See? You’ve been drawing me. You’ve known me for a long, long time.”

“But how? I don’t remember you.” You say dejectedly. “I-I’m sorry.” For some reason, pain struck your heart. You wanted to remember him, you really did. You felt like there was something there, a feeling like you did really know him, enough to feel the twinge of nervousness and shyness in your chest, to know what it meant despite what was wrong with you. But, no matter how hard you tried, nothing came to your head, and nothing happened.

Jin placed down your book on your bed and raised his hands, noticing that tears were welling up in your eyes. “No, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he cried. “I just want you to know.”

You sniffle. “Know what?”

“I want you to know that I love you,” he stated, leaning forward in his chair to rest his arms on your bed, placing his cheek against the sheets. “I love you so much, even if you forget about me every time I leave the room.”

Did he love you? Did he get the same feelings in his chest as you do as you’re looking at him right now? Does he find himself drawing you? Does he forget about you, too?

“Jinny,” you say, feeling a bit more at ease when you say his name that way, “I.. I, um…”

“Hmm?” He hummed, waiting patiently for the end of your sentence with a smile.

“I love you too,” you agree with very little thought involved. You know what this was, a deep-seated feeling that even you couldn’t forget. It was love. “Please…”

“What is it? Do you want some ice chips?” He sits up, ready to stand, and you only smile and shake your head, grasping his wrist for good measure.

“Please, don’t go… not ever. I don’t want to forget you.” Tears were now spilling over the rims of your eyes. You knew that if he left the room you would have to meet him all over again. You had done it so many times with your mother until her constant presence finally solidified her in your mind, but it seemed like Jin hadn’t made that kind of progress.

“You won’t forget about me,” he told you, reaching up to swipe a thumb at a stray tear. “You draw my face in your books and you remember my nickname even if I only mention it once. Once you love someone, you never really forget them. Alright?”

“Okay,” you agree, leaning into his touch, his hand now cupping your cheek gently. “Will you stay a little longer, though?”

“Of course I can.”

~ 4 hours later ~

You smiled at your newest masterpiece and placed down your charcoal pencil, holding up your sketchbook and admiring your handiwork.

“(Y/N), don’t you think it’s time you eat your dinner?” Your mother asked as she sat against the wall, returning Jin’s shrug as he could finally move from his pose. She gripped your dinner tray in her hands, it slowly growing cold from the passage of time.

“I only just finished,” you whine. “Can I eat after I put the seal on it?”

“(Y/N),” your mother called scoldingly. “Your charcoal won’t smudge if you leave it for a few minutes, now eat up.”

“You should probably listen to your mom, (Y/N),” Jin chimed as he stood up to stretch. “She can get pretty scary.”

You looked over at your mother, who was looking at Jin with a knowing smirk, but, she said nothing.

“But eating my dinner means that visiting hours are over and you have to go home, right?” You ask innocently.

“Yes, that’s right,” Jin replied cautiously.

“Then I’m never going to eat my dinner!” You declare, placing your sketchbook on the small table beside your bed, promptly crossing your arms and pouting in your mother’s direction.

“(Y/N), come on, Jin can visit tomorrow.”

“But…”

“No buts.”

“Alright, fine.” You sigh dejectedly, nodding in the direction of your mother.

Your mother stands, satisfied at your compliance. She placed the tray on your lap as you sadly watched Jin stand.

He looks down at you with his soft smile, “I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”

“You promise?”

“Of course, I promise,” he reassures you by nodding and crossing his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” He begins to turn around, but you grab his wrist. “What is it?”

“One more thing.” You tug on his arm gently, and his smile grows wider as he figures out what you want. Before you know it, he’s bent down in front of you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Jinny.”

~

Jin sighed as he exited the room, closing the door gently behind him. He knew as he walked down the hallway of the hospital that you’ve already forgotten about him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be depressed or sad about it.

He pulled out his phone to text his friends that he was coming home, a smile still present on his lips.

GROUP CHAT

NJ: Hey, Jin, visiting hours ended like half an hour ago. Are you coming home?

TH: Yeah, we need you to make dinner.

SJ: You guys really need to learn how to cook for yourselves. Yeah, I’m coming home.

JM: How was the hospital? Did she…?

SJ: No, sadly.

 YG: :( We’re sorry

TH: Yeah… we know how much you love her.

NJ: Maybe one day she’ll remember you

SJ: I don’t care about that anymore, I’m not sad about it

JK: Wait, why not? You’re usually so torn up about it once hours are up.

SJ: I don’t know, I just noticed that every time I go to see her, it’s like she’s never seen me, and…

YG: And what?

SJ: And it’s like she falls in love with me all over again, every day. She never gets tired of it, she never gets tired of my face and she never wants me to leave once visitation is over.

TH: Now that’s what I call true love. She’s never freaked out at you?

SJ: No, never. I tell her that she knows me and she’s always a little confused at first but I always see that light in her eyes, I can practically feel the butterflies she gets. I just know that she loves me, even if it’s new to her every time I go in.

NJ: :) that’s the spirit!

YG:  I feel like I could write a million songs right now

TH: Me too :D

HS: That’s so beautiful T_T

JK: You should just pop the question every day to see what she says ;)

JM: It’s good that she has someone like you

Seokjin smiled to himself as he locked his phone. He would visit you every day, watch you fall in love all over again until one day he would finally be so embedded in your memory that you had one less thing to forget. So that he would never have to leave you, so visiting hours were never over.

~ The Next Day ~

“Seokjin, back again, are we?” Your mother asked, a smile on her face as she nursed a cup of coffee, leaning on the wall by the door to your room. “Seems like you’re freeing up your schedule.”

“I’m trying to as much as I can, Ms (L/N),” he says cheerfully, gripping a small gift bag. “Is she awake?”

 “Yep, and pretty energetic, too.”

“Oh, good. So, I can go in?” He asked, smiling at your mother.

“Of course, go on.”

The door made a small click once again as Jin entered the room, his smile becoming a grin as you looked over at him from your sketchbook.

“Hi there,” he greeted, smiling over at you. “Mind if I sit?”

“Hi,” you say in return, shoving your book and pencil crayons off to one side with a giant smile. “You’re more than welcome to sit down. My name’s (Y/N).”

Seokjin took toward the padded seat next to your bed, gently placing down the gift bag in his lap, deciding to present it to you before he left at the end of visitation. “I know.”

“You do?”

All over again.

[clumsyclifford]

lashton prompt: luke falling asleep on skype and ashton taking the opportunity to draw him, bonus if someone else finds the sketches before ashton shows them to luke

meghna this prompt is from almost a full calendar year ago. i am proud to report that after all this time i did in fact manage to set it in spideyverse because that’s how determined i am. more info in ao3 notes but it takes place in the summer before their senior year of high school, so after the events of everything else in spideyverse so far

read here on ao3

-

Ashton will have to thank Maya later for the tip about the Fine Arts Room. He jimmies the door handle and, as promised, the door swings opens to reveal a darkened room full of half-finished projects. They must really take the decency of humanity on faith here. Anyone could come in at any time and sabotage any of this work.

Ashton has less nefarious plans.

He sits at his usual spot but doesn’t turn any lights on; the big windows shine just enough moonlight into the room that Ashton can see the silhouettes of the furniture, and his laptop will be on in a moment anyway. Careful of the scattered pages over his workspace, he opens his computer and loads up Skype. 

Just in time for an incoming call.

Ashton fumbles with his headphones and plugs them in with one hand while he accepts the call with the other. The screen fills with Luke’s brightly-lit, highly pixelated face. Chin in his hands, elbows propped on his desk, hair a ruffled mess (from the mask, Ashton knows) — the sight of him fills Ashton with warmth.

“Hey,” Luke says, smiling his usual cheeky smile. They’ve been texting sporadically, but seeing Luke’s face — hearing his voice — gives Ashton a fluttery feeling behind his sternum. Calum would call that anatomically impossible, but he’d do it with a smirk. “I can barely see you.”

“I’m sitting in the dark,” Ashton explains. His voice is a hushed whisper even though he knows it’s absurd to be paranoid. They’re supposed to be confined to their bunks by now, and the staff and counselors will all be asleep. The only reason he and Luke are calling now, past midnight, is because now is the only time they’re both available. “I’m in the Fine Arts Room.”

“Ooh, can I see?”

“I don’t want to turn on the lights,” Ashton says. “There are windows and stuff.”

“Are you not supposed to be there?” Luke raises an eyebrow and grins. “Ooh, is Ashton Irwin sneaking around?”

“Well, if we weren’t calling at the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t they lock the buildings?” Luke suddenly looks concerned.

Ashton shrugs. “Maya told me that if I jiggle the handle, the door will open. She was right.”

“Go Maya,” Luke says. “I like Maya. Who’s Maya?”

“My new friend,” says Ashton. “She mostly paints. We’ve got a challenge going on about whether she’s better at drawing or I’m better at painting, since neither of us really use those mediums. Hannah — one of the other campers — is going to find something for us to both paint slash draw and then there’ll be an unofficial panel of judges. It’s pretty stupid.”

“You’re smiling a lot,” Luke says, and Ashton realizes he is. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me. You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” Ashton says honestly. “I’m pretty awful at painting.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think. How hard can it be?”

“That’s very rich coming from you, Mr. I-Can’t-Draw-A-House.”

“Hey, fuck off! I can draw a house, thank you very much.” Luke looks down at his desk and his focus shifts, and Ashton watches in bemused patience. As he waits, he draws a blank piece of paper towards him and grabs the nearest pencil lying around. His hands move almost unconsciously, drawing lines and curves and sketching the outline of something Ashton hasn’t quite decided on yet. Luke finally lifts his head up. “Here, see?” He holds up a piece of paper to the camera, where he’s drawn a box with an isosceles triangle on top for the roof, complete with a little chimney sticking out. “House,” Luke proudly declares. “Boom. Get fucked, Irwin.”

“I stand corrected,” Ashton chuckles. He hums. “They’ll probably just find us equally talented because painting is different from drawing and blah blah blah artsy hipster bullshit.”

“Stop dismissing the artsy hipster bullshit,” Luke says stubbornly. “I’ll have you know my boyfriend deals exclusively in artsy hipster bullshit.”

“You think my drawings are artsy hipster bullshit?”

“No, babe, I think you are artsy hipster bullshit.” Luke grins widely and then gets cut off by a yawn. Ashton bites back a very cheesy comment about how Luke should web himself up for being criminally cute.

“You know what, I’m gonna let you have that one,” he says instead. “Since I am at an artsy hipster bullshit summer camp.”

“I miss you.” Luke pouts. It’s a funny look on him. Ashton tries to imagine Spiderman pouting and completely fails. Sometimes it’s hard for him to reconcile Luke and Spiderman being the same person. That this adorable six-foot-and-change beanstalk who yawns on Skype is the same person who can do a double-backflip and land on his feet on the rooftop of any building. Ashton’s boyfriend stops crimes. What the fuck.

“I miss you too,” he says. “You seem tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Instant karma is a bitch. Luke immediately yawns again, this time much wider. “Okay, I’m a little tired,” he admits, smacking his lips like a child. “Summer break is deceptively boring. I…I run out of things to do all day, so I just kinda…keep patrolling. I might be wearing myself out.”

“Jesus, Luke, take it easy on yourself. Queens goes the entire school day without Spiderman’s protection during the school year. You can handle a break.”

“Yeah, but I might as well patrol,” Luke counters. “I have the time, and it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

“I thought you and Michael were working on new specs for the suit.”

“It’s mostly Michael. Also, I think he’s kind of annoyed about the whole 24/7 patrol. He can’t work on the suit if I’m wearing it.”

“That is true.”

“But he’s been spending a lot of his time with Calum, anyway,” Luke says coolly. “So I figure he’s probably got other priorities.”

“Well, if you keep blowing him off to obsessively patrol the city, I can’t possibly imagine why he’s making other plans.” 

Luke stares through the camera. His shoulders slump. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Ashton chirps.

Luke sighs deeply. “You’re not here, Ash.”

Ashton purses his lips and frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m just saying. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He misses Luke too, more than is probably healthy. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for only having a handful of close relationships; Luke and Calum are his whole life, and not being able to hug either one of them for even a week has been pretty challenging. “But look, it’s only another week, and then I am all yours, I swear.”

“Don’t enable me,” Luke says, affronted. “You’re supposed to say things like… ‘You don’t own me’ and ‘I’m my own person’ and stuff like that.”

Ashton blinks, confused. “Uh…well, yeah, but we both already know that. I’m just saying I miss you too. But if it’s any consolation, Maya has ruthlessly mocked me for all the drawings I do of you. Like mercilessly. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That is super embarrassing,” Luke says, with a small, bashful smile. “You’re so fucking lame, Ashton.”

“Wow,” Ashton says. “You even sound like her.”

Luke giggles, which turns seamlessly into a yawn. “Hey, I came first. Maya sounds like me.”

“Luke, babe, just go to sleep,” Ashton says. “We can talk another night. Maybe one where you’re more well-rested.”

“I’m super rested,” Luke says in a monotone. “King of restedness, me.”

“Wow, I’m suddenly convinced.” Luke makes a half-hearted face at him and Ashton makes one back. The sketch under Ashton’s pencil has revealed itself to be Luke, yet again. Shocker. It really is embarrassing that Ashton defaults to drawing his boyfriend. If they ever break up, Ashton will be fucked.

“Are you drawing?” Trust Luke to notice. Although the fact that it’s taken him this long to notice means he must be slower on the uptake than usual. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because when is he not. 

“Drawing what?”

“Guess,” Ashton says dryly.

Luke gives a sleepy smile. “At least you’re predictable.”

“Luke, I’m begging you to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow or this weekend or something, okay?”

Luke yawns yet again. “Okay,” he agrees, right hand propping up his head. His eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Okay, fine.”

“And please let Michael look at your suit,” Ashton adds. “You know he’s only going to make it better.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Luke’s eyes fall shut again. It seems more out of tiredness than distress. “If I give it to him, then I can’t use it.”

Ashton’s pretty sure if Luke’s hero complex gets any bigger he’s going to have to start renting out rooms. “It’ll be two days, tops,” he says. “Take two days off.”

“I wanna wait ‘til you’re back,” Luke mumbles. “Spend ‘em with you.”

“You spend most of your time with me,” Ashton says gently. “Spend them with Michael. Hell, spend them with Cal.”

“But I want…” Luke yawns. He lists sideways a little. “I want you.”

Ashton chews his lip. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Luke hums absently. “‘Kay, g’night,” he slurs, but makes no gesture to hang up the call. He probably expects Ashton to end it. If Luke is as asleep as he looks right now, Ashton kind of has to.

The graphite on the sketch paper is smudging a little. Ashton glances down at the half-assed likeness of his boyfriend and has an idea.

Quietly, he grabs another blank page, moves his laptop back a little, and starts to draw.

-

They’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast Ashton follows a decidedly more lively Maya into the Fine Arts Room, where she takes her place diagonally from him at their table. They’re both mid-project; Ashton stacks and sets aside his scratch papers and pulls forth the drawing he’s currently working on.

“So? You talked to Luke?”

Ashton blinks and looks up at Maya. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the tip, I meant to say.”

“Hey, don’t thank me, thank Cupid,” Maya says airily. “I’m on the side of love, baby.”

Ashton snorts and rolls his eyes. “Let Cupid know I say thanks.”

Maya hums. “Cupid says you’re welcome.”

They’re quiet while Maya gets herself set up — she has to put all her acrylics back every evening only to set them back out every morning, another reason Ashton prefers pencils over paints — and Ashton picks up his pencil and starts to draw. 

“Is this yours?” Maya asks, peering at Ashton’s discarded stack of sketches.

“Yeah,” Ashton says without looking. “Just sketches and stuff.”

“Wait, this is so cute.” She’s leaning over the drawing on the top. Ashton glances up.

It’s Luke from last night, soundly asleep over Skype.

Ashton had ended the call after about ten minutes of silence, enough time to get the rough outlines of all the important shapes. The video quality wouldn’t have lent itself to a good sketch anyway if Ashton had been chasing authenticity, but fortunately he knows Luke’s face well enough — both from drawing it and gazing at it in real life — to pretend the call had had a crystal-clear picture. None of it is colored in, but it’s as obviously Luke as all of Ashton’s other drawings. Somehow, though, this one feels more personal.

“Did you draw this last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton says, reaching for the drawing. He shuffles it between several other papers so an innocuous collection of doodles is now at the top of the stack, and Maya clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Hey, I was looking at that. It was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s just nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, it’s adorable,” Maya says. She fixes him with puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease can I see it? I won’t show anyone. I’m studying so I can kick your ass in our competition.”

Ashton sighs. “It’s just Luke. You’ve seen millions of drawings of him.”

“But those were obviously from memory,” Maya points out, taking his non-answer as an affirmative and sifting through the stack. Ashton doesn’t bother trying to stop her. It’s not like he has anything to hide — or at least not anything Maya could figure out by looking at the drawing.

And in her defense, Luke does look cute as fuck in the drawing, because he’d looked cute as fuck in real life.

“For all you know, this one is also from memory.”

“You drew the screen, Ash, it’s clearly from last night.”

“Well,” Ashton says diplomatically. Then he abandons diplomacy, because Maya has located the drawing and is grinning and aww-ing. “Well do you blame me? He fell asleep on our call. It was adorable.”

Maya giggles. “You guys are so fucking cute,” she says. “Y’know, most people would be insulted if their boyfriend fell asleep on a video call with them.”

“He’s been really busy lately,” Ashton says. “And it was the end of the call anyway.”

“One day, I will have someone to draw me when I fall asleep on our Skype calls,” Maya says wistfully. “I’m putting the vibes out into the universe so it’ll happen soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one drawing them,” Ashton points out. 

Maya finally sets down the Luke drawing. She dips her brush in red paint, clearly intending to put it into her work, but at Ashton’s words instead brandishes it threateningly at him. “I won’t be drawing anyone, buddy.”

Ashton laughs. “But you’d date someone who drew instead of painted?”

“At this point?” Maya sighs theatrically. “I’d date just about anyone who did anything.”

Ashton laughs again. They work quietly for a few minutes. Ashton starts shading.

“Why do you only ever draw Luke?” Maya asks. “You said you’ve been together for less than a year. Who were you drawing before then?”

Ashton shrugs. “Uh, anyone, really,” he says. “People. There are a lot of pretty interesting people at my school, and besides, I’m from the city.”

Maya snorts derisively. “You’re from Queens.”

“Queens is in the city.”

Another derisive snort. “Queens is in the city the same way using ink stamps is painting.”

“That’s not even a little bit the same thing, at all.”

“You’re not a city boy.”

“I am literally a city boy!” Maya waves him off, but Ashton ignores her. She’s from Massachusetts. She has no leg to stand on. “My point is that there are lot of interesting people near where I live, too.”

“You didn’t ever, I don’t know, draw your friends? Calum, didn’t you say he’s your best friend from home?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ashton says. “Calum. Didn’t like when I drew him.”

“What, seriously? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, and it’s true. “He just asked me to stop drawing him one day so I did.” He hesitates. “...Mostly. Sometimes I still do. But if you knew Calum you’d understand why. He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Of course he is,” Maya says. “Any chance he’s single and/or interested in women from several states away?”

“No to both questions,” Ashton says sympathetically. “But good try.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Maya says good-naturedly, and they lapse into silence again.

It’s broken by Maya, again. “Do you show Luke the drawings you do of him?”

That’s a complicated question. No, Ashton doesn’t actively show his drawings to Luke, but Luke usually sees them anyway. Some of them are more private; Ashton keeps the one of Luke in the Spiderman suit sans mask folded up in the bottom of his socks drawer where he’s pretty certain no one ever looks. There doesn’t seem to be a point to showing it to Luke now, so long after he’d actually done it. But for the most part he’s not hiding his art from Luke; Luke sees what he sees, notwithstanding Ashton’s intention.

“Sometimes,” Ashton says.

Maya nods at the drawing of Luke asleep on Skype. “You gonna show him that one?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What, why? It’s so cute.”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes me seem like a ridiculous lovesick borderline creepy idiot?”

“Guys love that,” Maya assures him. “Or so I’m told. C’mon, why hold out on him when he already knows you’re basically obsessed with drawing him?” She taps the drawing. “And when he looks this adorable?”

Ashton breathes a laugh. “You have a point.”

“I always do,” Maya says, and she flips her hair dramatically.

Maybe Michael would let Ashton draw him. That would be a nice change from always drawing Luke and never drawing Calum. Maybe Ashton could just do it and then ask Michael what he thinks. It would be nice to have new muses. Ashton has spent a lot of time on Luke; maybe it’s about time he branched out again.

“Hey,” Ashton says, struck with inspiration as he watches Maya make brushstrokes across her paper. “Can I draw you?”

“Hell yeah, go for it,” Maya says. “I’m not sitting still for you, though.”

“I’ll live,” Ashton says dryly. Maya grins and laughs. A fresh page before Ashton and a new pencil in his hand, he studies Maya’s profile carefully and then brings his pencil to the page.

-

“Did you break into the Fine Arts Room again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if it’s technically unlocked,” Ashton points out.

Luke squints but evidently fails to argue with this logic. “How’s artsy hipster bullshit camp?”

“Really good,” Ashton says, cracking his knuckles. His parents have told him repeatedly that doing so will give him arthritis, but Ashton suspects that’s more of a scare tactic than a fact. At this point he doubts even rehab could get him to stop. It’s the only thing Ashton can think to do with his hands when he’s not drawing. “By the way, remember the other day when you fell asleep on our call?”

I fell asleep at the end of our call,” Luke corrects him. “We were done talking.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Well, anyway, Maya convinced me that I should show you this because maybe you’d think it was cute, or something.” He holds up the drawing of Luke.

Luke leans closer to the camera. Anyone else might have trouble discerning what’s on the page given how dim it is around Ashton, but not Luke. Luke has super-senses. His visual acuity is, like, a thousand. (Rough estimate.)

So when Luke’s face splits into a grin, Ashton knows he’s seen exactly what’s there. “Oh my fucking God, you sap,” he says. “I thought you just hung up straightaway.” 

“Nope,” Ashton says. “I’m just saving moments. One day I’ll have enough for a flip book.”

Luke’s expression goes all mushy and heart-eyed. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, fond and endeared. “I can’t believe you’re not bored of my dumb face yet.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen your dumb face?” Ashton laughs. “It’s impossible to be bored of it.”

“Ashton,” Luke says, his eyes crinkling so much that the blue all but disappears. “I love you.”

And everything makes sense.

“I love you too,” Ashton says, struck by the realization that he does. The drawings, the midnight Skype calls, the death-defying trips around the city with only his faith in Luke to keep them afloat, the fluttery feeling — all of the colors lock into place, and Ashton can see the rainbow clear as day in front of him. He’s never been in love; of course he couldn’t tell. But there’s nothing else it could be.

“Oh, good,” Luke says timidly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t say it back.”

Ashton glances from the drawing in his hand to the look on Luke’s face on the screen, and he cracks a crooked smile. “Then you, superhero, have not been paying attention.”

[straightlikewetspaghetti]

Tension

f!Sam x MC (Anna Schuyler) Warnings: none

Midnight.

She closed her eyes, listening to the soft ticking of the clock hands. Each second as she waited turned into a minute, and that into an hour, making the torture unmercifully prolonged. The tension that had been building inside her all day demanded to be released.

One second, two seconds, three.

The ticking of the clock became a sound of agony, and with each beat her heart pounded harder and harder.

A lock being turned, door being opened.

Her body shot up like a slingshot, nearly knocking down the chair she was sitting on. With hands trembling with anticipation, she managed to grab it before it made any sound that might draw unwanted attention.

The click of heels.

She turned away from the door, resting her hand on the huge glass window, trying to make her pose as natural as possible. With the remnants of self-control, she tried to even out her breath, which hot with excitement, left smudges on the glass.

Three light knocks, the creak of the door opening.

She didn't have to turn around to feel her wary gaze on her. She closed her eyes, trying not to faint from the power with which her mere presence was affecting her. In the ruling semi-darkness, every one of her other senses strained to the limit, reaching out to her in every way possible.

"You called for me, Mrs. Dalton?" her voice sounded innocent, as if she hadn't realized how strongly it affected the other.

"Yes." she nodded simply, turning her head toward her.

To say that Anna Schuyler was a phenomenal woman was like calling a decades-old wine, a fine drink. Bathed in the soft moonlight peeking through the half-closed blinds, her figure seemed to emanate a glow like that of a goddess herself.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders like untamed waves of the sea, framing her slender face. Bright brown eyes scrutinized everything within their range with slow movements, making the thirst for her attention aching ever stronger. Unconsciously, she was also nibbling the lower lip of her full and enticing lips, whose touch on her skin she remembered very well.

"It has not escaped my notice, Anna, that within a week, you have broken almost every rule I have laid down."

A twitch, slight parting of the lips.

Was it a reaction to her complaint, or the name she had uttered in a completely new and entirely informal way?

"Yes."

A brief pause, tucking hair behind ear.

She did that every time she felt flustered.

"But with all due respect Mrs. Dalton, these rules are ridiculous."

"Rules, are rules." she said calmly, peeling her figure away from the window and casting a shadow over the woman standing before her. She noticed how her breath caught in her throat, almost drawing attention away from the blush painting on her cheeks. "And breaking them has consequences."

Even in such a dark room, she noticed how her pupils widened, almost completely losing the brown of her eyes. She looked like a deer on the highway standing right in front of a speeding car.

A car that had no intention of slowing down.

Reaching for a stack of papers from her desk, Sam found herself next to the blonde at an express pace.

Excitement?

With a careless gesture, she motioned for her to take a seat on the couch. She waited a moment for the woman to comply with her request and tossed the papers she had collected onto the table with a flourish.

Random cards with names and photos spilled across the surface of the table, catching the attention of the woman, whose brow immediately furrowed as she examined several of them.

"The new secretary?" Anna asked, completely taken aback.

"Nanny."

The blonde's eyes darted away from the page to stop back at her boss. Sam looked very pleased with herself, almost proud of her show of strength and the power she had over her. The brunette's lips twisted in a wry smile that Anna felt like tearing off.

"You don't have the grounds to fire me." her voice stopped sounding so confident when she noticed how her boss's irises darkened and her whole body tenses up, despite the smile on her lips. "Mrs. Dalton."

"Is that so?" the mockery in her voice was undeniably palpable, but there was something else in it, something that sounded like a challenge. She slowly walked over to the couch Anna was sitting on and stood behind her.

A cold trickle of sweat ran down the blonde's back as she was able to sense Sam's presence with her whole body. For some reason she had expected to feel the woman's hands on her, but that moment never came. Instead, she heard the bar door slam.

To say she felt disappointed was a huge misunderstanding.

Sam took out the wine and two glasses, not bothering to ask if the blonde wanted a drink. Pouring the scarlet liquid, her eyes looked straight at her, seeming to reach into her soul. It was an unsettling feeling, but also incredibly fascinating. Anna vaguely tried to take a breath, but noticed that the shadow of a smile tugged the corners of brunette's lips.

"I'm the best for the job, besides Mickey and Mason adore me." she said, ignoring the flutter of butterfly wings she felt in her stomach under Sam's adoring gaze.

The brunette chuckled, stretching out comfortably in one of the armchairs. With her free hand, she began to slowly, almost sensually, loosen the tie around her neck. The movement of her hand was closely watched by the blonde, whose eyes grew misty in time.

A pure torture.

Sam's eyes lit up and she pointed to the papers lying around the room. "As you have taken the time to notice, I have found candidates with actual work experience..." the boldness in her voice with which she accused her of incompetence, boiled the blood in Anna’s veins.

She rose momentarily from the couch, nearly knocking down a glass of wine that was one step away from spilling onto a carpet more expensive than several of her paychecks combined. She was furious, humiliated, and probably most hurt that Sam thought of her that way.

But she wasn't a pushover.

"Anna."

She stopped at the door, unable to object to that voice. She didn’t turn around, although she had an unusual urge to do so. She felt torn between two such conflicting feelings, that she just leaned her forehead against the cool oak door.

"Is this some kind of test?" her voice faded in her throat with every attempt to ignore the brunette's presence and just get out of the damned room. "If so, it's quite…” when she heard footsteps in her direction, she turned on her heel, pressing her body against the door to keep her distance from the brunette. “Unethical."

In a flash Sam stood before her. The familiar scent of sandalwood assaulted her nostrils, waking her body from lethargy. Her skin began to tingle as her thoughts began to wander to the memories she had buried somewhere deep in the back of her mind.

The brunette slammed her into the trap. Anna reflexively clung to the door she was leaning against. She was breathing frantically, trying to find any way to escape, even though her feet were rooted to the ground. Confusion was one of many words that could describe her current state.

"Did I mention you look beautiful?" she murmured leaning in, her hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Anna's cheek.

She liked the words far more than she should or could have. They stirred an inner excitement in her, that had been bubbling near the edge for quite some time. It was so sudden and unexpected that no words came to her mind.

Their eyes traveled to the other's mouth at the same moment, only to meet again in a silent battle for control of the situation. Anna was clearly losing.

"It's unreasonable." she didn't sound convincing, but that might be because she was saying the complete opposite of what she felt.

"Then let's be unreasonable." the smile on Sam's face, became even more predatory, and her body clung more and more to Anna. Now they were separated by a mere millimeter.

Their lips were about to meet when the silence was broken by the ringing phone. Sam cursed under her breath as she walked over to the ringing device. Her face was contorted in rage when she saw the caller's name.

"It's Robin." she sighed, grabbing the bridge of her nose.

Anna nodded, taking deep breaths. What could have happened if her sister hadn't called? How far would they have been able to go to get what they both undeniably wanted?

"I was about to leave anyway." her voice sounded much more confident than she held on her legs trembling from the intensity.

Liar.

Sam looked at her with longing in her eyes, but she didn't tell her to stay. She just waved her hand and turned her back to the blonde.

Without waiting a moment longer, Anna left the room and leaned against the door covering her mouth.

What the hell was that supposed to be?

[jjpmoans]

t’aimer sans cesse

↦ song: Hesitate from Eyes On You 

↦ lyrics: 'Yes, you, why are you making me this confused?/ I don't get you any more' 

↦ word count : 9k+

↦ genre : roommates to lovers

↦ warnings : fluffs, angst if you squint really hard

↦ summary : Park Jinyoung. You. Jeong Jaehyun. As complicated as it seems, you’d be honest when you said, you didn’t expect to be involved in this whole love triangle. Have you been missing signals or have he been sending you absolutely invisible signals? Is your radar broken? How have you not know? How have you been so dense? How long have you been foolishly hurting him?

↦ a/n : Hey everyone! I’m back with a new fic! I’m soo sorry it’s been a drought here on my blog. But i’m back and looks like Mr Jeong is joining us this time~ Anyways, this fic is written for the GOT7 Alive Fest on twitter and if anyone is interested, go check it out on @/GOT7_Alive_2020. They have both artists and writers joining the fest! Most of them post on ao3 and I am probably the only one who post on tumblr. Nevermind that, I hope you love the fic! Thank you for reading!

Morning classes are by far, the most hated part of your schedule. You don’t like waking up early, which explains why you’re not a morning person. You don’t remember when was the last time you met the morning birds and the sunrise since you usually wake up after ten in the morning and the sun is already up. You missed the chirping and the first ray of the morning but you’d trade anything for sleep at the moment. 

“Jinyoung.” you groan when you feel a finger poking your cheek and pinching it. You know it’s him, who else is patient to wake you up? Bambam and Yugyeom have long given up trying to wake you since you refused all their advances, even coaxing you with food. “I don’t want to wake up.”

You heard a few rustling and you exhaled in relief. Perhaps Jinyoung will let you off the hook and let you sleep this once. You don’t have that many morning classes, to be honest. You only have one, and that’s on every Tuesday. Usually you wake up and sign the attendance then go back to sleep since you had online learning for this semester, but since the situation has toned down and the university has reopened, today marks the first day of on-site class. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” you hear his voice and a few seconds later, you feel your face getting wet and his palm softly applying cold water all over your face. Another dip into the basin and he returns his palm to your face with another round of wiping the cold water all over your face which he carefully presses it on your eyelids. “Wake up. You have class at nine.”

You grumble, turning away from him to continue sleeping but at this moment, you’re almost wide awake after he technically washes your face for you. You can hear Jinyoung chuckling and you’re positive now that he has successfully woken you up. “Urgh. I hate how you wake me up easily.”

“Not my fault that I’m an expert.” he laughs upon seeing you getting out of his bed and into the bathroom. “Hurry up. I’m taking you to breakfast.”

“For what?” you appear again with your toothbrush inside your mouth. 

“To eat, you dummy. Your class ends at eleven and you’d be starving by then.” he picks a book out of your shared bookshelf, flipping it to the page he left before. “Hurry up! I’m giving you ten minutes!”

You stare in disbelief at him and when he sees you’re unmoved, he throws you one of your small pillows to get you moving. “Tik tok, y/n! Move fast!”

“I can’t believe you shove me into the bathroom.” you frown when Jinyoung just laugh at your complaint. He indeed shoved you into the shower after you’ve been standing for too long while brushing your teeth. “We aren’t even late!”

“You’ll thank me later.” Jinyoung grins, walking into the busy cafe. People are getting their first coffee supply of the day and so do you. Jinyoung and you are both coffee people, it just made sense to start the day with a cup of iced Americano.

As usual, Jinyoung will queue up so you can find a seat for both of you while waiting. It’s easy to catch a spot in the cafe during the morning since most people pack to-go breakfast. So you carefully choose a table for two, a bit far from the counter and hidden from the excessive sun exposure but still be able to see people entering the cafe. 

It’s just an unconscious habit of yours, to watch whoever that passes through the door. It’s just amusing to you how most people fall into the same time schedule, about fifty people probably have the same class to attend and twenty seven of them need coffee before class. 

“Here.” a tray of drinks and food appears before you, you make space for Jinyoung to place the drinks out of the tray and put the tray away. It’s so obvious which one of the food is yours and which one is Jinyoung’s. He prefers to have croissants for breakfast while you prefer egg sandwiches since you’ll be fuller and can last until lunch time. “Saw anyone you know?”

You shake your head before taking a big bite of your sandwich, munching them happily. The man before you just laugh at your behaviour, fifteen minutes ago you were wrestling with him to get into the shower and now you’re just behaving like a child, eating her breakfast with joy.

He sees the corner of your lips smudged with the mayo and his heart skips a beat, wondering how can you be so adorable being so messy. He can’t stand someone munching loudly but here he is, watching the corner of your lips moving and the sauce is still there. So he extends his hand, wiping your lips and retracts to lick his thumb back, before going back to eat his own croissant.

You didn’t mind, it’s not actually out of the ordinary. Jinyoung smiles, knowing how comfortable you are with him. Sometimes he wishes you don’t, because right now he just wanted to let you know how badly he’s in love with you. 

But of course he can’t. As best friends, he can’t. His feelings aren’t worth the awkward encounters or the cold treatment you’ll be giving him once you learn that he’s in love with you. 

“Alright so for the assignment partners,” your professor announces, indicating the class is ending in ten minutes. During the quarantine, he has decided that all assignments will be graded individually since the quarantine was expected to run longer. However with the on-site classes coming to life again, he wanted to make the last assignment graded in partners, so that he can actually provide better materials for the lecturers audit session. 

You heard your name being called and you swear your breath hitches when another name follows yours, loud and clear. “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Oh my god.” your friend next to you gasps, utterly speechless at revelation of your partner. You as well, are shocked and completely blank out. “Oh my god. You got the golden boy.”

“Oh my god.” repeating the phrase over and over again, your friend taps you multiple times and you feel your throat dried. One of the reasons why she’s so excited is because you’ve developed a crush towards the golden boy from the start of the semester and she knows. She, who goes by the name Mina, is your only friend from the same course.  However it was short lived since you only got three classes with him and the quarantine started. Either way, you’ve completely forgotten about your crush until he was brought up again, 

You took Mathematics as an elective just because you thought it was fun and you wanted to try it. Jinyoung couldn’t make it, Psychology students are always packed and you, as the Language student, have too much time to spare.

“Mina. this is insane.” you are having a minor breakdown and Mina isn’t helping, squealing when she sees Jaehyun walking over towards your seat, nudging you not so subtly. “My lord, don’t nudge me like that-”

He stops in front of you and for a second you forget how to breathe, extremely mesmerized by his presence. Here’s why he’s the golden boy.

You knew from a classmate that he comes from the Engineering faculty, taking Mathematics as one of his complementary subjects in order to fulfill his credit hours requirement for this semester. It’s a given that he excels in mathematics as he’s an engineering student but his other achievements make him even more dreamy and absolutely golden. 

Jaehyun is also very popular in sports, he’s one of the baseball club players, the one and only sport club that is making names for your university. It doesn’t need you to attend their matches to know how well he’s been playing. His fame makes up for it. They have been winning almost every match and well, he contributes about two third of the scores. Above all of that, he’s apparently a member of NCT frat, where every single member is magnificently handsome, carved and painted by god himself.

In short, he’s the standard boyfriend you’ll never get.

“Uhm.” okay he has a bit of a flaw — no, not a flaw. Despite how famous he is, he’s apparently an introvert. He gets shy quite easily, more reasons to like him. The tip of his ears will be red if he feels nervous or shy and you don’t know what is cuter than that. “Hey.”

You forgot how to talk just by looking at him. Never would you have thought you’d be able to talk to him, well given the situation and his social status, you have no doubt you’re out of his circle. It’s only when Mina secretly pinches your thigh that you manage to find your voice, clearing your throat to reply to him. “Hi. Sorry, I’ve been so rude. I’m y/n.”

He offers you a smile. Jeong Jaehyun offers you a smile. You can finally die in peace. “I know. I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”

Oh. What is this? How does he know about you? Scratch that, why would he know anything about you?

“Wha- what? Excuse me?”

He chuckles and Mina’s gasp is completely audible to your ears now, you have no idea if Jaehyun catches that. But you know he does, after all his ears won’t lie to him. “I know you. You’re Jinyoung’s girlfriend.”

Even nothing comes out from Mina, you know she’s laughing. Of course, your reputation is affiliated with Jinyoung. There isn’t any person on the campus who doesn’t know about you and Jinyoung. To say you’re Jinyoung’s best friend is absolutely underrated, so they upgraded your status to Jinyoung’s girlfriend. You’re so close to Jinyoung that it made a lot of his fangirls mad. Why? Because just like Jaehyun, Jinyoung is a member of a frat. 

GOT frat specifically.

Things got complicated and you got his fangirls harassing you to the extent of harming you in your own house during your first semester. After much consideration, Jinyoung figured that it is safer for you to stay with him instead. No one will be able to harm you in a frat house, mainly because he is there but also, his members are very protective of you too. 

Hence he got Jaebeom to go to the administration and arranged your residency exchange. You have no idea how Jaebeom managed to convince them since no girls are allowed to reside in an all boys frat. However he powered through and the news spread as fast as they could, making you officially Jinyoung’s girlfriend and off market.

“Lord, not this again.” you mutter quietly but goodness gracious of course he heard it. Jaehyun’s laughter resonates again and this time you decided to just fuck it. “Firstly no, I’m not Jinyoung’s girlfriend. I’m his best friend and I have no idea why people keep saying I’m his girlfriend.”

“Maybe because you act like a couple?” Jaehyun offers his thoughts. Probably it’s true, Jinyoung has a soft spot for you. Maybe because he feels sorry for what you’ve been through, however you don’t mind. You love when Jinyoung is being protective of you. It reminds you of how much he cared for you.

“Yeah. Nevermind that. Do you want to talk about the assignment?” you hate to ruin the moment but you figured he needed to go somewhere and you’re already holding him back. If you want to chit chat, you can do it when you meet for the assignment.

“Oh yes.” he quickly whips out his phone and scans the task given, quickly sliding his phone to your direction. “Okay so I’ve done question no 1 and just need you to look over them in case I did them wrong-”

He- what? He already did the assignment? Screw it, you’re in love with him already.

“So we just need to work on the second question.” he finishes his sentence and looks up to you, flashing his dimples away. Ah right, his deep dimples are exactly the reason why you’ve taken a liking in him. Whenever you have online classes, a strand of his luscious brown hair will naturally parted away from the others, his dimples showing up occasionally when he’s solving questions. Out of every single window on the screen, you’ve been intently watching his window, mesmerized by his good looking face. “I guess we can set the time and place for us to work on this?”

You unconsciously nod, before quickly snapping out of your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m actually fine anywhere. I’ll check my schedules and we can try to set any time for it?”

Jaehyun hums, hesitated before asking, “Will you be comfortable if we do it at my place?”

Another quiet squeal makes you roll your eyes, at this point Mina isn’t trying to be subtle anymore. Jaehyun has been laughing whenever she lets out any kind of noises, which embarrass you even more. “Wait- you mean NCT frat!?”

You can’t believe she just asked that. 

“Wow, y/n. Spare me some of your luck, please.” she tugs on your arms to which you shrug her off easily.

“Shut up.” you tell her before catching Jaehyun’s attention again. “I’m okay with NCT frat. I’ll text you before I come over?”

“Yeah,” he replies distractedly when his phone shows an incoming voice call, seeming important since he freaks out, whipping his head to the door. “Sorry, the boys are having some meeting and I need to go now.”

He hands you his phone, his dial pad showing up. “Put your number in. I’ll text you.”

If someone ever tells you that Jeong Jaehyun will offer his phone to get your number, even for an assignment, you’d definitely assume that they’re insane and tell them to stop giving you false hope. But now you’re filling your phone number in Jeong Jaehyun’s phone and it feels more like a dream than a reality.

Only when he’s out of the lecture hall that you’re able to breathe, accompanied by Mina’s never ending teasing. Lord, why are you being extra kind today?

Unknown Hey it’s Jaehyun :)

You almost drop your phone before making unrealistic noises, your heart jumping in joy. You don’t wish to disturb Jinyoung who’s studying at his table but this calls for celebration. 

“Oh my god!” you decided to let it loose and quickly dance in the middle of your room out of giddiness. Jeong Jaehyun has officially texted you and he’s waiting for you to reply. “Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh!!”

Jinyoung stares at your dancing figure with an eyebrow raised, his pen in between his teeth. To say that your sudden dance abnormal is an understatement, he’s been watching you do even crazier and dumber things in the middle of the night during examination weeks but that’s out of stress. So he lets you cool down – not really since you’re still grinning while holding your phone. Definitely, something is wrong.

“Wait how do I reply-” you fumble with your keyboard, thinking of a proper sentence. It’s been three minutes since his text and it’s the perfect time to reply back. You have to act like you didn’t wait for him to reply.

Y/n Hi! Yeap, y/n here.

What do you say more? Did the meeting go well?

You contemplate writing another sentence when his reply comes in, startling you in the process.

Unknown Have you checked your schedule? What day are you free?

Y/n I did and I am free on monday and wednesday afternoon, then friday evening. Hbu?

Unknown Oh crap. I’m only free on wednesday evening 

Golden boy curses too? Oohh, hot.

Y/n Uh… I don’t mind doing it on the weekend? If you don’t have practise or anything.

Unknown Unfortunately [Sticker] I have baseball practice in the morning. But

Y/n But what

Unknown Can we make it at night? We can do the assignment in the next two weeks.  I have an upcoming submission and I’m fully booked this weekend. I’m sorry I promise you I’ll provide you snacks.

Y/n What am I? Five years old? [Sticker] I don’t mind. The due date is still far away.

Unknown Oh so you don’t want snacks?

Y/n Shut up. Give me McDonalds.

Unknown Deal. A princess will get what princess wants.

Your heart skips a beat. He calls you princess? From the first text? This sounds like a frat boy attitude. For a moment you laugh at yourself, of course he is. He’s technically a frat boy.

“Okay you’re creeping me out.” Jinyoung finally stands up from his study table and proceeds to sit on his bed. Your study table is next to his bed while his study table is at the foot of his bed. “You’ve been smiling creepily while texting. Who’re you texting with?”

You quickly reply to Jaehyun with a sticker and lock your phone, facing Jinyoung who’s still confused about what’s going on. You can’t handle this alone and you need to tell Jinyoung. If anything, Jinyoung is the first person that shall know.

“You know Jeong Jaehyun?”

He gives you an incredulous look, of course, who doesn’t know Jeong Jaehyun? One must be blind and deaf if they don’t know the golden boy. “Really? You’re asking me this now?”

You dismiss him immediately, moving to sit next to him on his bed. “He texted me.”

“He texted you?”

“Yes!” you almost screamed at him but hold back and throw yourself on his pillow, kicking the air. “We got partnered for an assignment and he texted me!”

Jinyoung is absolutely clueless because he stares at you again, confused. “So? Why are you so happy about it?”

“Oh god Jinyoung! You don’t understand!”

“Then tell me! And for god sake stop kicking already!”

You sit back up and watch Jinyoung carefully, before explaining, “Jinyoung. A handsome boy, from NCT frat texted me. And he’s not just any NCT member, he’s the golden boy. The standard boyfriend-you’ll-never-have. The Jeong Jaehyun.”

“And he texted me. And he calls me princess!” You watch Jinyoung’s face contorted with disgust and you push him away roughly. He would never understand. He’s not having a crush on Jaehyun.

“So what? I can call you princess too. What’s so special?” Jinyoung has now moved higher on the bed and his hands are crossed. This is why you need a girl best friend. When you have a boy best friend they are so dumb and they can’t understand this joy.

“Oh god. Because he’s so dreamy and I got a crush on him!” you lunge towards Jinyoung and shake him, forcing the information to sink inside his brain. “My crush just called me princess, can you believe it!!???”

“You have a crush on Jaehyun?”

“Urgh. You’re so slow.” you get up and reach for the door, yanking it open. “I’m going to Jackson. He’ll be more enthusiastic to listen to my story than you.”

You close the door and leave Jinyoung alone, stoned and unmoved on his bed.

You didn’t realise it but the previous sentence left Jinyoung speechless, sending him into a shock.

You like Jeong Jaehyun? Oh shit. Jinyoung is in a deep deep shit.

“Hi.” the door opens, revealing Johnny who looks like he’s been expecting you for a while. 

“Oh! Y/n!” he screams, well not screaming but definitely a higher octave than usual conversation tone. “Come in! Jaehyun told us that you’re coming over.”

Like you have agreed, Jaehyun invites you to come over two weeks after You enter the house, a fresh smell greeting you softly. The layout of the frat is just like yours, except that it is bigger, well to accommodate 21 people in one house. There’s only a few minor differences from your house, like how the kitchen and the living room looks extremely bigger.

You spot someone at the kitchen and you nod timidly, showing your respect in someone’s house. Lord, you feel overwhelmed.

“Who’s at the door- oh!” a high pitched tone yell from the fridge and you see Lucas hugging a jar of milk, probably taking it out. “Jaehyun hyung! Your pretty partner is here!”

You blush at the nickname, quickly trail behind Johnny who offers to send you to Jaehyun’s room. You agree, you can’t possibly manage to find his room by yourself. Actually, you take your words back. This house has a different layout than GOT’s frat, definitely you won’t trust yourself around here. One mistake and you’d probably end up in a room with at least three naked men.

“I have no idea why you’d yell, Lucas.” Johnny comments, ascending the stairs. “Jaehyun can’t even hear you.”

“I know. I just want to call her pretty.”

“Oh god.” your face reddens when Lucas continues to tease you that by the time you reach Jaehyun’s room, you’re as bright as a tomato.

“Heyyy you’re here- wow what happened? Why are you so red?” as soon as he opens his door, Jaehyun bends over to see your reddening face, scanning for any suspicious injury. Johnny however, starts laughing and he’s lucky you just met him today or else you’d already jab him with your fist. “Come one, Johnny. Who did this to her?”

“Lucas that kid. He’s teasing her all the way up the stairs.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun laughs as well, beckoning you to enter his room. “Shut that one up for me.”

“Aite, golden boy.”

You manage to tone down your redness after fanning it while watching Jaehyun’s minimally decorated room, all in black and white, three beds lining up next to each other, the study table at one corner and their closet at the other end. It’s a big room and with three people living in it, it still has spaces to work on the floor.

“Sorry if you find it messy.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his head sheepishly when you seated yourself on the floor, in front of the folding table that he has prepared. “I forced Jungwoo and Jeno to clean the room since you’re coming over.”

“So if you find anything suspicious, just ignore them okay?” you chuckle at his choice of words, as if you’d probably find something. The whole room looks clean, or so how it looks. You doubt you can find anything.

“I’m serious. I always find questionable things and you don’t want to know what they are.”

“Oh.” now that is something you didn’t think of. You know how they always hold parties and a lot of people come over, but you definitely didn’t think of that. “Okay now I’m afraid to move.”

Jaehyun lets out a hearty laugh, seating himself next to you comfortably. “Don’t worry. Nothing can harm you here.”

“Knock knock!” instead of knocking, Haechan chooses to enunciate the sound and in a split second he opens the door, posing at the door frame. “The delivery man is here and I’m not rich to pay for it.”

Jaehyun sighs as he pulls out his wallet, throwing it to Haechan. “Swipe it.”

You turn to Jaehyun, halting in your calculation. “Did you really order McDonalds?”

“I promised you.” he says softly, looking back at his own paper. “What my princess wants is what my princess gets.”

You swear the air suddenly gets hotter and Jaehyun turns super flirty since his first text. You kept texting back and forth, the awkward texts have long forgotten, now it’s always him asking you about your day and sending memes he found on the internet. 

“Are we flirting now?”

“Depends on how you define flirt.” he smiles and that damn dimples show up again, impossible making you even more giddy. “I’d say, I’m being me.”

“This is how you are?” you look at him up and down, giving him a disapproving look. “Do you flirt with every girl you meet?”

Jaehyun comes closer to you, looking at you straight in the eye. “I’ll have you know one thing.”

“I never bring any girl into the frat. Not even hookups.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t do hookups.”

“But I’m just an assignment partner.”

“Definitely not for me.”

You later learnt that Jaehyun has ordered every single meal on the menu because he doesn’t know what you like. You almost got tricked when you came downstairs and saw the food untouched when all the boys were practically circling the dining table but no one touched anything. It’s only after you picked your burger, fries and drink together with Jaehyun’s food that Haechan sprinted towards the table and started the food war with others.

“You just have to ask me, you know.” you tell him while he walks you home, smiling sheepishly while getting scolded. “You wasted a lot on the meals.”

“It’s not wasting.” he defends himself. “I let everyone eat the remaining. It’s not wasting.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing.”

The walk home is silent, a comforting silent. His house and yours is just a few houses apart but he still insists on sending you home. It feels so short because just in five minutes, you fall in step in front of your house. Tonight, you experience something new. You experience another set of happiness, surrounded by Jaehyun and his friends.

It’s different from being with Jinyoung and the boys, it just feels like it. With GOT frat, you feel like home while with NCT frat, you feel exhilarated.

“Hey.” you hear Jaehyun calls, making you turn to him. “I want to let you know that I enjoy talking to you.”

Your features soften, of course, you like talking to him too. “Same here, Jaehyun.”

He grins, walking backwards. “Talk to you later!”

“Good night pretty girl!” you shush him when he shouts a bit too loud. He laughs, running to his house while screaming the same sentence, absolutely madness. You love talking to him, perhaps a bit more than he does.

“Jinyoung.” he calls, trying to shake the said male into reality. However he gives no response, staring into space making Jaebeom sigh in frustration. “Stop making that face. It’s obvious enough that you’re jealous.”

“What face?” Jinyoung glares, putting his Americano cup down and exhales shakily. He knows what kind of face Jaebeom was referring to. His annoyed face. “I am not jealous.”

“Oh really? Geez, I would never know,” Jaebeom rolls his eyes sarcastically. If looks can slice, Jaehyun must have been slaughtered by the Jinyoung’s total concentration water breathing form and poof! He’d be a verified demon slayer. 

“Shut up.” It’s been an hour and you are still there, sitting at the table by the window, talking to Jaehyun. He has been eyeing you since you entered the cafe and was about to call for you but realised that a certain male has followed you after, seating both of you further from people. He’s not mad, no. He’s a tad bit sad. He doesn’t like this unsettling feeling and it hurts even more when he sees Jaehyun’s concentrated eyes gazing on you.

He knows that gaze. That’s just how he looks at you.

Ever since you first told him that Jaehyun texted you, something has changed. You start spending less and less time with him and more time with Jaehyun. You start waking early and rush downstairs, just to go on a morning walk with Jaehyun. At night when it’s supposed to be your time with Jinyoung, you’d spend it talking to Jaehyun, if not texting all night.

You haven’t realised it but Jinyoung is extremely jealous. 

He never had you that enthusiastic with him. You’re always you, nothing special you’d change just for Jinyoung. And the thought of it makes him sad, sad that he’s actually just a friend. 

“I think you should tell her, you know.” Jaebeom starts. Ever since you revealed that you had a crush on Jaehyun, Jinyoung has been constantly broken. It’s like you pressed a switch inside his brain and he malfunctioned himself. It’s rare to see Jinyoung acting out of character but this is what love does to people. It made you go insane. “What’s the point of torturing yourself watching the woman you love talking to another handsome man with heart shooting out of her eyes?”

“So you agree he’s handsome?”

“Jinyoung.” Jaebeom shakes his head exaggeratedly. “It’s Jeong Jaehyun we’re talking about. We all know that NCT house has some magic shit going around because every single member from that frat is drop dead hot and handsome. Now don’t avoid this. Tell her before it’s too late.”

Jinyoung has officially gone blank. He wanted to tell her, he really does. Jinyoung can’t count those nights where he has drawn a perfect plan in his mind, watching you sleep while mouthing unsaid words to you. He really wanted to tell you that he loves you. He had been in love with you for so long, he has forgotten when exactly he harboured his feelings for you. All he knows, one day he woke up and he felt his heart threatened to burst at the sight of you. 

However every single plan has its flaws and Jinyoung’s plan involves throwing your friendship into the mix. If only he’s not afraid to risk your friendship, he would have tried his damn luck. He would have confessed and he wouldn’t give any damn whether you’d be awkward or not. Things will be easier if he has no attachment. Yet, this attachment is the thinnest line he wouldn’t dare to cross.

“I can’t, Beom-ah.” he sounds helpless, the most helpless Jaebeom ever heard and they are childhood friends. He knew Jinyoung since they were eleven and nothing, nothing  ever broke Jinyoung this bad. Jinyoung is never a quitter but this time, Jaebeom sees him quitting. “I can’t risk our friendship, Jaebeom. I can’t. I can handle her fawning over someone else but I can’t afford being apart from her.”

Jinyoung is never helpless but somehow, he’s helpless when it comes to you.

“So you’re going to let her date Jaehyun?” Jaebeom, though his heart wrenches seeing Jinyoung so broken, he’s not going to let Jinyoung give up. “Because I’m telling you, Jinyoung. Jaehyun isn’t playing. We know how someone looks when they’re in love. I’ve seen it on you and believe me or not, I saw it on Jaehyun.”

Jinyoung has never been unconfident. He’s always that one student who is constantly positive that it will turn out well in the end. He believes that even if it’s bad now, it will be better soon. Beat him but now, he sees nothing like that. He can’t bring himself to think that if he confesses to you it will turn out good. That even if something happens, even if you distance yourself from him, you will be okay in the end.

Because it won’t.

“Tell her before it’s too late please.” half pleading, Jaebeom just can’t see his friend being this lost. “Tell her even if it risks your relationship.”

“What if I lose her?” he can’t answer that, of course Jaebeom can’t. It’s not his place to make an escape plan, it certainly is not his place to come up with your answer. But there’s one thing he is sure of.

“Then she certainly doesn’t deserve you.” 

“I need to talk to you.” Jinyoung starts, watching you focusing on your screen. Like always, you are grinning, probably laughing at some TikTok videos that Jaehyun sent you. 

“One second, Jinyoung.” you quickly type a reply and lock the phone, setting it face down. Another thing that has changed ever since you started talking to Jaehyun. Before, you had nothing to hide but now? Jinyoung doesn’t know you anymore.

You’re now totally focused on him, your eyes staring straight into his eyes but it’s different. It doesn’t feel the same. It feels like you’re someone else. You’re not his girl anymore. 

“Jinyoung?”

“Hm?” it’s bothering him how foreign his name comes out from you. It’s been a month and if he counts, you probably utter his name only twice a day. “Oh yes. The talk.”

You are sitting cross legged on your chair, waiting patiently for Jinyoung to start. You realised it too, that you’ve been spending less time with Jinyoung. You do feel sorry for him and you have an inkling that he wanted to talk to you about it. Jinyoung rarely needs to have a talk with you unless he feels bothered, and now you can see how bothered he is.

Taking a look at him, you suddenly feel your heart wrenches. How long have you stopped giving attention to Jinyoung? He has this frown on his face now, sometime you never see before. His hair is a bit longer and his hair colour is a lighter shade of brown. 

Who dyed his hair for him? After all, it must have not been you, since you’re busy hanging out with Jaehyun. But usually, you dyed his hair for him, saying you’re the only one who knows how to dye hair properly. Now that you look back, this concern is probably bigger than you expected.

You’ve abandoned your best friend and you knew about it but you did nothing.

“Uhm.” Jinyoung clears his throat, snapping you out of your trance. “I don’t think it’s like- like a big concern.”

“And you know I don’t like complaining either.” he stops, gulping nervously as he continues, “I just feel like we’re too far away.”

“I came home and we’re roommates but I can’t feel you here.”

“You’re so near yet so far.”

You know it will hurt. You know Jinyoung’s choice of words are already the softest he would have chosen, yet it stings. It reminds you of how ungrateful you are, leaving him for someone you have a crush on. He is telling you how he is sad, sad that he gets nothing like before. Your attention is now unavailable for him. It hurts him and now he’s projecting them in words.

Now it hurts you.

“I’m sorry if you feel like I’m demanding. But I just don’t know you anymore. I don’t know how you are, or what you ate for lunch. We’re drifting apart and it hurts me.” he continues as you stay silent, feeling the guilt eating you alive. “I know you have someone new…..yet is it so easy to leave me behind?”

Jinyoung is officially breaking apart. He feels like he’s childish, pouring his heart out but this is about him. This is him demanding you to be fair. He can’t stop you from liking Jaehyun, he can’t force you to love him back. He just wanted to remind you that he’s there. He’s there and please do something. 

“Jinyoung.” your voice cracks, slowly the tears fall on your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m so sorry I made you feel this way. I was too blinded by the newfound happiness and I forgot you. I forgot you who have constantly made me happy.”

“I’m so sorry.” you cried harder, reaching Jinyoung and hugging him. “I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.”

You feel his body shakes and you know he’s holding back from crying. You hated yourself for making Jinyoung cry. 

Jinyoung isn’t weak, no he isn’t. He’s been too strong that it breaks his limit. He wanted to let go. He wanted to let go for once and he’ll be fine. If nothing goes right after tonight, he’s done tolerating. 

A few quiet sobs and some awful jokes later, both of you are lying on Jinyoung’s bed, holding each other close. 

“Jinyoung.”

“Hm?”

“Can I sleep with you here tonight?” you ask Jinyoung, rubbing his arm. It’s been too long since you sleep in his bed and now you feel nostalgic. You’re overreacting but really, it feels too long. 

“I thought you’re going to talk to Jaehyun?” he teases, earning himself a slap on his chest. “Ow! What was that for?”

You laugh, settling yourself comfortably in his embrace. “Say Jinyoung.”

“Hm, what?”

“Do you approve Jaehyun?”

He looks down to you, questioning eyes boring into yours. You know it’s too soon, you know perhaps it’s not the best time to bring it up. But you just want to know his answer.

“For what?”

“To be my boyfriend.”

Jinyoung wakes up feeling empty, his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re still sleeping in his arm yet he has this unsettling feeling inside him. Recalling your last question before you sleep, he inhales a deep breath.

Will you be happy? Will his approval make you happy?

Jaehyun is a nice guy, Jinyoung knows that. Looks aside, he has full potential to be the best boyfriend for you. Jaehyun is caring and also when he loves, he’ll love you to the fullest. It’s not a problem to approve Jaehyun, he won’t hesitate if that’s the only case.

However it’s not.

Will Jinyoung be happy with his decision? It feels like the burden has increased tremendously, from jealousy to pain in just one night. It seems like the one month is just a trial for Jinyoung, now he needs to be prepared to lose you for good.

With his fingers raking your locks, he watches you sleep soundly. This is probably the last time he watches you sleeping in his embrace. This is probably the last time he’ll see you wake up in his arms.

Lord, can you help me stop the time?

“Nope.” 

“Jaebeom-”

“Nope. I won’t let you be as stupid as you are.”

Jinyoung lifts his eyebrows, offended by Jaebeom’s statement. He’s just offering a suggestion yet Jaebeom calls him dumb? “Hey! What do you mean as stupid as I am?”

“Jinyoung.” Jaebeom sighs exaggeratedly, holding Jinyoung’s shoulder in place. “When I told you tell her, I mean tell her your feelings your dumb ass. Not just telling her how you feel when she forgot about you!”

“I’m not a dumb ass.”

“Well you look like that to me now.” It’s another evening where you went over to Jaehyun place to finish the assignment and Jaebeom has no other way than to confront Jinyoung about how weird both of you have been.

Yes, both of you have been weird. Specifically, Jinyoung.

The morning you woke up in his embrace, you didn’t notice something was off. Probably because you forgot how it felt waking up with Jinyoung but definitely, Jinyoung was different. As if he had a switch in him, he started avoiding you, keeping your conversation minimal.

You thought it’s just you but one day Jackson asked you why you were both eating separately, one person at the other end of the table, then you realised that Jinyoung had avoided you. Yes, he made it subtle and you never noticed it until someone pointed it out.

Jinyoung still let you sleep with him and still woke you up like any other morning. He just doesn’t talk as much as he did before. And you brush it off, thinking it as another awkward change that you brought upon your friendship.

“You’re not a dumb ass?” Jaebeom asks. “Y/n has been at Jaehyun’s for hours and you’re still here, like a wife waiting for her cheater husband? Oh you’re just unable to think rationally.”

“Shut up. She’s not a cheater.”

Jaebeom had enough of these awkward encounters. It seems like none of you figured this thing out and he needs his lively frat back again. “Then I suggest you do something about y/n. It’s almost eleven and she’s not home yet.”

“Like what?” Jinyoung is now irritated. He doesn’t have any control over what you’re doing and even if he wants to, he can’t. “I’m not her boyfriend.”

“And Jaehyun is not her boyfriend either. So go get her.”

“What?”

“You heard me. As the house leader, I’m ordering you to get her ass from that NCT frat and bring her home.”

“She can come home by herself. Jaehyun will walk her home.”

“Park Jinyoung.” Jaebeom grits his teeth, pulling the said man towards the door and without hesitation, throws him out of the house. “Don’t let me put up ‘No Jaehyun is allowed’ in front of the door. Go fetch her home by 12. I mean it, Park.”

Then Jaebeom slams the door shut, locking it from inside. Though Jinyoung clearly has the key, he knows Jaebeom probably locked the door using the other lock instead. So he stood outside, leaning against the wall.

What is he going to do? Knock on NCT frat and ask for you? No shit he’s not going to look like a desperate man. 

But indeed, Jaebeom is right. Jaehyun is not your boyfriend either and he has a valid reason to be worried and to go get you at his house which is only five minutes away. Yeap, valid.

“I must have gone crazy.” Jinyoung mutters as he exits the compound and starts walking on the sidewalk in a painfully slow pace. “I must’ve looked crazy too.”

Five minutes turns fifteen, courtesy of Jinyoung walking around the neighbourhood and standing like a stool against the lamp post, contemplating whether he’s going to knock on the door or not.

“Well.” he sighs, walking up the NCT house and stands nervously in front of their door. “Aite, fuck this.” he knocks, slow at first but gradually the third knock is loud, followed by fourth and fifth. He did it on purpose, he knows how boys can be. Yugyeom and Bambam can be so focused while watching Netflix that they can’t even hear any other noises.

Jinyoung fiddles with his hoodie sleeves, his heart beating nervously as he waits for someone to get the door.

“Who is- oh, Jinyoung!” Thank god, Taeyong shows up, not Lucas or Jaemin or else Jinyoung would have a hard time being less suspicious. “Why are you here?”

Now that’s another hard question? Does he simply say ‘well my roommate is here and it’s already 11.20 and why the fuck is she still here’? Or does he say ‘i’m jealous so i’m picking up my girl’? Nope. Nope.

“Uh. Is y/n here?” He hopes he doesn’t sound like a desperate man asking for his crush’s whereabouts because he feels like he’s one. “It’s- it’s 11.20 and uh Jaebeom is kinda mad? She’s not yet back.”

Taeyong takes like- 30 seconds to let the information sink in, before frantically shouting for Jaehyun. “Jaehyun! Tell y/n that Jinyoung is here to bring her home!”

An awkward silence follows him, well of course it’s awkward. All pairs of eyes are watching him from all directions, curious of why he’s here to bring her home? You have been patronising this house for like, two months now and suddenly he’s here to remind her of her curfew?

He hears you come down the stairs, shock paints your face as you see him at the door. Firstly, well since Jinyoung avoided you, you don’t know why he suddenly came to take you home. Secondly, since when do you need someone to take you home?

“Jinyoung.” you reach the door, Jaehyun trailing behind you equally as confused. “Why are you here?”

The amount of ‘why are you here’ irks him that by the time you ask him the same question, he feels like his blood is boiling. Why is it so hard to believe that he’s here to take you home? Don’t you realise what time is it already? Why are you still at Jaehyun’s? These voices inside his head are shouting at the same time and he just- can’t stop himself anymore.

“Why? I can’t come here now?” his question, as soft as he wanted to sound, didn’t come out well. It sounds plainly rude, like he’s picking a fight with you. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Not that. I’m just confused.”

“Jaebeom told me to come and get you.”

“But I can go home by myself.” you point at Jaehyun behind you, who stays silent between your conversation. “Jaehyun can walk me home.”

At this point, Jinyoung feels anger bubbling up inside him and if everyone squints really really hard, one can see that his jugular vein almost pops. All this ‘Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that’ is starting to get to him and honestly? He’s tired of listening to it.

“Can we just go home?” as much as he wants to scream at everyone, he doesn’t want to make a mess at someone’s frat. He knows how Jaebeom works hard to maintain a good relationship with other frats and how hard it is to clean after messes. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation here.”

You silently agree, bidding the boys goodbye and step out of the house. Jaehyun’s eyes follow you worriedly, as if he knows that you’d probably end up fighting with Jinyoung.

In your eyes, Jinyoung is irritated by the fact that you asked too many questions but in Jaehyun’s eyes, he recognises those emotions as anger and jealousy. He’s been asking you about your true relationship with Jinyoung, knowing that it’s impossible for one to be that close without any feeling involved. Tonight, he found out why. 

Jinyoung is in love with you.

“Taeyong.” he whispers while watching both of you getting further away from his house. “Fuck, Taeyong.”

“What?”

“I messed up.”

“What??” how come Jaehyun didn’t realise it from the start? Of course, when he first got close to you, he thought that you and Jinyoung are just best friends and given he never really gets to talk to Jinyoung, well he just didn’t think of that.

“Taeyong.” his frantic eyes find Taeyong, who is as clueless as ever. “Jinyoung loves y/n.”

The leader’s vision switches to the couple on the street, looking at them with wide eyes. “Oh fuck.”

“I don’t understand him!” you throw your hands, ruffling your hair. It’s been four days and Jinyoung avoided you like a plague, refusing to talk to you even if you cornered him every time you got him. “He’s like, really confusing.”

Jaehyun bites the apple, listening to your story intently. You have told him through texts but here you are again, ranting about how Jinyoung is the most useless communicator and it’s impossible to take the words out of him if he decided to give you cold treatment.

“So you said he’s been weird after you asked him if he approves me to be your boyfriend?” he asks again, making sure he had his point right. Just like four days ago, Jaehyun has concluded that Jinyoung indeed, has been in love with you for so long but you’re just dense to realise it. It’s been proven true, you have the audacity to ask Jinyoung about it and not feel guilty at all.

“Yeah.” you sit on the foot of Jaehyun’s bed, settling yourself comfortably. You hang out more at Jaehyun since Jinyoung looks like he’s about to become mute whenever he sees you in the house. You figured you could give him some space. “I’m so confused right now.”

Jaehyun nudges you with his foot, making you look right up to him. Jaehyun has been too comfortable with you, becoming close just after two months. He’s at that stage where he just calls you with his feet now. 

“You wanna know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think that Jinyoung is in love with you.”

“What the-” Shock is not enough to portray your feelings right now. It’s a mixture of shock, disbelief and suspicions. You don’t know if Jaehyun is playing around because right at this moment, his face shows no hint of joking. “Jaehyun! It’s not funny!”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, annoyed with your ignorance. You’re the most clueless person he ever knows, and he knows Mark Lee! “Girl, listen to me.”

“What did Jinyoung say when you said I texted you?”

“He said, ‘so?’”

“And what did he say when you said you like me?”

“Is this another session to feed your ego?” you don’t trust Jaehyun, he has a lot up in his sleeves and you just knew him for two months. “I fed your ego too much, don’t you think so?”

“Shut up and answer me. What did he say?”

You roll your eyes. “He said nothing. Why are we doing this?”

“What did he reply when you ask about me being your boyfriend?”

“He didn’t reply. God, I don’t know where you are going with this conversation.”

Jaehyun takes another bite of his apple, munching while talking at the same time. “You see, he didn’t reply when you told him you like me. That’s fine, maybe he didn’t care. But when you ask him about me being your boyfriend, why didn’t he answer right away?”

“Well-”

“Because he doesn’t want to! Come on, Jinyoung can’t possibly tell you no right? You’d be too nosy and asked why.”

“Hey!”

“So what I think is, he likes you.” Jaehyun concludes, snapping his fingers in triumph. “Now the real question is, do you like him back?”

You shut up, eyes running away from Jaehyun’s. You don’t know, well you have no idea. You never thought about liking Jinyoung because you don’t want to risk your friendship. It might have crossed your mind a few times but you ignored the curiosity, you figured it’s the best to stay being friends.

Not that you don’t want to invest your feelings in Jinyoung, you’re just too afraid that it will backfire you. You don’t like rejection and you certainly don’t want to become awkward afterward.

“I don’t know.” you answer truthfully because really, you don’t know.

“Then find it out.”

You close the door to your room, putting down your bag on the floor and sit down on your bed. Jinyoung is at his study table, unmoved.

“How long are you going to give me cold shoulders, Jinyoung?” you ask, your feet kicking the air. You know he’s listening, even if he has his earphones in. That’s just Jinyoung style, to wear earphones so that no one bothers him, especially Jackson. Whenever Jackson comes over, he’d retreat when he sees Jinyoung stuffing them in his ears. “I know you can hear me, Jinyoung.”

“Let’s not fight anymore.” you look down, suddenly you feel sad. You feel like you’re losing Jinyoung. Is this what Jinyoung feels before? So near yet so far?

“It’s been hard without you, Jinyoung.” 

“The mornings are extremely cold without your laugh and the lunch is plain without you cracking up lame jokes. Dinner is boring because you avoided me and night…the nights are even colder without your hugs.”

“I know you’d say, ‘so what? You have Jaehyun so go and ask him to eat with you, crack up lame jokes and give you hugs.’ but I don’t want Jaehyun. I want you.”

Jinyoung has stopped writing, listening to you intently. You noticed this, which is why you continue, “Jaehyun told me that he thinks you like me.”

You didn’t realise it but Jinyoung stiffens at the mention of his crush on you, catching him off guard. He knows that someone will eventually tell you about this but he definitely didn’t think of Jaehyun of all people.

“I don’t know if it’s true. Jaehyun isn’t exactly the best fortune teller so I definitely can’t gamble with his words.”

“I just want you to know that you’re extremely important in my life. I never thought of putting you second just because I found someone new. In fact, I decided that I’ll stay as friends with Jaehyun, I don’t find him that attractive anymore.”

You stand up and walk over to his side, sitting on his bed just beside him, forcing him to face you. “So if that’s the case, can you please stop being jealous now? I don’t have anything to do with Jaehyun. We are not dating and can I please have my Jinyoung back?”

Jinyoung is frowning, his eyes scan you from the top to the bottom. “You don’t find him attractive anymore? Really?”

“Well-” you grin, crinkling your nose up playfully. “He’s still handsome. I can’t deny that.”

You feel more at ease, now that you’ve told Jinyoung what you’ve been wanting to tell him. It feels lighter, your brain and your heart. You hated the days where Jinyoung ignored you and you’re left imagining what you would do without him in your life. The thought alone scares you, the fact that you’ve been so comfortable with Jinyoung beside you and you never thought he’ll leave you for someone else someday.

“So you still like him.” Jinyoung confirms and turns around to his note again, picking up his pen. 

You scream, pulling him away from his work and tugs him nearer, trying to have all his attention on you. Jinyoung struggles to escape from your grips but fails miserably, laughing along the way. You join him, laughing together as you bring him nearer.

“Let me go, oh god. Since when you’re so strong?” he wrestles his way out of your grip again, hoisting you up and throws you on the bed easily. “Did you practise lifting Jaehyun’s dumbbells?”

“Yeah, I went there to exercise.” you reply deadpanned and laugh when Jinyoung tickles you as a revenge.

“Hey.” you call out, trying to get his attention again. Jinyoung’s arms have you caged, he’s on top of you while you lie comfortably on his bed. “Is it true?”

“What is?” Jinyoung’s eyes rake you face up and down, like how his thoughts are running wild inside his brain. He doesn’t know what to do, does he confess now? Does he confirm that it’s true? Does it mean you’ll be his? Can he do that? Can he kiss you?

“Is it true that you like me?” just as Jinyoung, you’re nervous. You’re conflicted. What if he doesn’t actually like you? What is Jaehyun really bad at guessing? You’re not surprised, nothing surprises you about Jaehyun anymore.

“What if it’s true?” 

“I’d be so happy.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been thinking for a while and I don’t think i can ever end up with someone else other than you.”

“Oh yeah?” Jinyoung’s heart stops at your confession, then beats harder as he feels his adrenaline pumping his blood faster. “Can I kiss you now?”

You shake your head, watching Jinyoung’s eyes grow and a cute frown appears on his face. You wanted to laugh but you held back, looking straight into his eyes.

“Why not?”

“You haven’t said you like me.”

“Oh my god.” he curses, turning away from you when he feels his face grows hotter. “Fuck- fine. I like you. Are you satisfied?”

You laugh, nodding furiously. Jinyoung doesn’t waste any more seconds, diving right then to press his plump lips to yours, taking the perfect shape of your lips in his. 

Finally. His mind says, Fucking finally.

“God. finally.” he mutters to himself, somewhat trying to convince himself that indeed, he’s kissing you. “Oh god.”

“Do you know how long I have been dying to kiss you?” he reaches down to press another kiss on your temple, another on your cheeks, nose and your chin, then pressing the last one on your lips once again.

You chuckle under him, pressing your palms on his chest to hold him. “How long?”

“Too long, I’ve forgotten already.” his reply earns another laugh from you. 

Jinyoung moves to lie beside you, watching you play with the string of his hoodie. It’s funny how time works. About fifteen minutes ago you’re sitting on your bed, trying to fix things up and now you’re lying beside him after he kissed you breathless.

“I thought you’re dating Jaehyun.” he did. He really thought that after what happened, you’d hate him. “I hated myself for screaming at you.”

A strand of his hair falls on his forehead and you reach to swipe it away, pushing his locks behind. “Yeah, you’re quite rude.”

“Very rude.”

“I thought our friendship is ending.” you confess, eyes on his chest instead of his face. “I thought it’s the end of us. That you got fed up with me.”

“Then it turns out that you’re just a jealous boy.”

Jinyoung pushes your chin up, making you face him. “Just a jealous boy? You didn’t know how jealous I am when everything is about Jaehyun! Have you ever heard I talk about other girls? No right? See who’s rude now?”

Another laugh escapes you and you caress his face, calming him down. “I didn’t know, okay. I thought you were fine with it.”

“Yeah right.”

“But we’re here now, right? You don’t have to be jealous anymore.”

“Really?” Jinyoung’s finger finds your lock, playing with the strand. “Do you like me too?”

You really want to make him suffer a bit. Just a bit since he’s being a pain in the ass for ignoring you for one week straight. 

“Hmm, I need to think about that again.” you grin, sending Jinyoung into a series of screams.

“What the- out!” he pushes you off his bed with you hanging onto him while your laugh fills the room. “Get out of my bed!”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you! Did you just play me?”

“Is my feeling that easy?”

“Get out of my bed!”

“Jinyoung!”

“Out!”

You don’t know about your feelings, just yet. But there’s one thing for sure. You love Jinyoung’s kisses. You can deal with that. But his petty ass? That calls for a serious mental discussion.

Copyright © 2020 jjpmoans. All rights reserved

[ Writings ]

[chocolatequeennk]

Forever Timeless, 1/23

Summary: Two months after the Dalek Crucible, the Doctor and Rose are getting used to having the biggest family on Earth. As they visit Leadworth in 1996, Victorian England, a mysterious desert planet, and Elizabethan England, those family and friends often help in unexpected ways. But no matter where they go or who they're with, it's always the Doctor in the TARDIS with RoseTyler--just as it should be.

Ten x Rose, Donna x Lee

Betaed by @saecookie, @rudennotgingr, @pellaaearien, and @jabber-who-key

Part 7 of Being to Timelessness

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Chapter One: Family Time

Rose leaned back into the drop cloth-covered couch and looked around the room. Her mum and Pete had purchased a house in Cardiff, and she and the Doctor had spent all day painting and cleaning. After two months spent monitoring the lingering effects of the Reality Bomb, the domesticity was jarring.

A sharp pain hit Rose between her shoulder blades, and she grimaced and rolled her shoulders. Every muscle in her body ached. She was in good shape, but she didn’t usually spend hours holding a paint roller over her head.

A moment later, familiar hands settled on her shoulders and started massaging the tension away. Rose sighed and leaned forward so the Doctor could get that spot in the middle of her back.

She enjoyed the massage for a few minutes, then reached for his hand and tugged, asking him silently to sit down with her. He collapsed beside her, looking every bit as tired as she felt. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek and his hair stuck straight up.

“What have you and Pete been up to?”

“Putting together the furniture for Tony’s room.” The Doctor rubbed a hand over his face, smudging the dirt even more. “I need to create a setting on the sonic for Allen keys. Those belong on a list of forbidden torture devices.”

Jackie’s snort interrupted Rose’s teasing response. “And here I thought you were some kind of superior alien,” she said as she entered the room, carrying two tall glasses of water. “How the mighty have fallen—defeated by an Ikea flat pack.”

Rose listened to the Doctor’s internal debate, weighing the merits of defending himself against the likelihood that Jackie would dump the glass of water over his head. In the end, he only rolled his eyes and said, “Thankfully, the fate of the universe has never rested on my ability to put together furniture named after obscure Scandinavian locales.”

Jackie handed them the water and sat down on a folding chair. “Speaking of strange places, we haven’t seen Jenny and Donna lately. Where are they at now?”

Rose blinked. “You’ve seen them?”

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “You would have seen them too if you hadn’t been off to Neptune doing whatever,” she retorted. “They stopped by a few weeks ago before catching a plane to New York.”

Rose sipped at her water to cover up the urge to sigh. The trip to Paris had whetted Jenny’s interest in seeing more of the Earth. By airplane, she’d insisted, because that was how humans did it.

Donna had been happy to travel the world with her. Rose suspected the trip was a way for her to keep her mind off the fact that they still hadn’t found Lee. Four months had passed since the Library, and the TARDIS still hadn’t picked up even a trace of him.

Rose abruptly realised her mum was staring at her expectantly. It only took her a second to remember what they’d been talking about.

“They’re in Sydney,” she said. “They’ll be back for your big housewarming party, but they really wanted to see Australia before coming home.”

“Hah!” Jackie wagged her finger at Rose. “Now you know what it’s like, having your only child go off travelling by herself.”

Rose pursed her lips. “It’s not that,” she argued. “Well, not only that,” she amended. “It’s fun having other people on the TARDIS with us. I miss it.”  

“What do you miss?” Pete asked. He pulled a second folding chair over and sat down beside Jackie.

“Having friends travel with us.”

“Apparently I’m not enough company,” the Doctor added, earning a poke in the side from Rose and a snort from Jackie.

“More like you’re a bit too much,” Jackie countered. “Can’t imagine being married to an alien.”

“No, you just married a man from a parallel universe,” Pete interjected.

Jackie rolled her eyes, then looked at Rose. Rose groaned at the look in her eye. Interrogation time, she warned the Doctor.

“Speaking of marrying an alien…” Jackie raised an eyebrow and looked at Rose, then at the Doctor, and back again. “You mentioned something about weird alien rituals.”

Rose opened her mouth, but before she could start explaining the bond, her mother started rambling.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe you had to wear funny hats? Or defeat someone in armed combat?” She pointed at the Doctor. “Maybe Rose had to go back in time to ask your family for your hand in marriage.”

“Nothing like that, Mum,” Rose said quickly before Jackie could continue on that train of thought and bring back painful memories of Gallifrey.

“Well, what was it then?” She narrowed her eyes. “You better not have been naked for this wedding.”

“No! We were fully clothed.” The Doctor felt his neck heat up.  

Help!

Rose took his hand and he let out a slow breath. “Leave ‘im be, Mum,” she scolded. “It was mostly just like a wedding. I wore a beautiful dress and we exchanged vows and rings and everything.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too weird.”

“Yeah…” Rose squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, agreeing with her sudden decision. “I was mostly teasing when I said that.”

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. “So your wedding was completely normal?” she asked, dubious.

Rose bit her lip. “Well, we were alone in the TARDIS,” she said slowly. “And we did a handfasting because that’s part of the Doctor’s tradition.”

“Hmmm…” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

Rose knew she didn’t believe her, but explaining the bond was a far longer conversation than she wanted to have right now. Some day she’d try, but not today.

“It was perfect,” she said, wanting to move away from the alienness of their wedding.

As she thought about that day, something occurred to her. “And our wedding anniversary is only two weeks away,” she added.

The Doctor blinked, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one who’d lost track of time. “We’ll have to go someplace to celebrate.”

“Mind if I plan this trip?”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over her wrist. “I’d love it.”

“Rose?”

The childish voice drew everyone’s attention, and they all looked over at Tony, standing in the doorway.

“Yes, Tony?”

He shuffled forward, a book in his hand. “Will you and the Doctor read to me?”

The Doctor scooted over and patted the cushion in between himself and Rose. “You bet!”

The little boy grinned, then darted across the room and jumped up onto the couch. Rose grabbed the book from him before he could stab himself in the eye with it or something.

“Under the Deep Blue Sea.”

As Rose turned to the first page, she suddenly knew exactly where she wanted to take the Doctor for their anniversary.

oOoOo

The Doctor followed Rose as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd waiting at Heathrow. “The board says their flight landed half an hour ago,” she told him. “They should be almost through customs by now.”

When the first passengers started trickling in a few minutes later, the Doctor gave Rose one end of the sign they’d made. Around them, other people likewise held up their signs—Limousine for Mr. Arbuckle, etc.

The trickle turned into a solid wave of people. “Can you see them, Doctor?” Rose asked as she strained to look through the crowd.

“No… Wait! Yes! Hold the sign up, Rose.”

They waved it madly, and a moment later they were rewarded by familiar laughter. Rose leaned sideways and saw Jenny and Donna walking towards them, wheelie bags in tow.

“TARDIS for Miss Noble and Miss Tyler?” Donna rolled her eyes.

The Doctor turned the sign around and studied it. “Well, we wouldn’t want anyone else to think they could get a free ride.”

“We told you we’d take the train to Cardiff, though,” Jenny said.

Donna nudged her gently with her elbow. “You owe me ten quid, Jenny. I told you they wouldn’t be able to resist surprising us.”

The Doctor’s mouth fell open, and when he looked over at Rose he was thankful to see that at least she was as surprised as he was.

Jenny hitched her backpack up on her shoulders. “I still say giving them the flight information was cheating.”

“I didn’t realise we were so predictable,” the Doctor muttered.

Donna smirked and turned her suitcase so he could take the handle. “We just know you too well.”

Rose shook her head and grabbed Jenny’s suitcase. “Come on, we should get out of the way. The TARDIS is just a short bus ride away.”

Thirty minutes later, the Doctor unlocked the door and held it open while Rose, Donna, and Jenny walked inside. He heard Donna and Jenny sigh in unison, and raised his eyebrows at them.

“Glad you don’t have to take a train after travelling for over twenty-four hours?” he guessed.

“Definitely,” Donna said fervently.

“And glad we can hop into the Vortex and get some sleep without Gran knowing we didn’t go straight to Cardiff,” Jenny added.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance, then Rose gave Donna and Jenny a sly smile. “About that… Are you set on going to Cardiff?”

Donna crossed her arms over her chest. “The housewarming party is next week. I’ve only met your mum a few times, but I have a pretty good idea of what will happen if you miss it.”

The Doctor grimaced and rubbed at his cheek, making everyone laugh.

Rose chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, you’re right about that. But our anniversary is the day after tomorrow, so we’re going on a short holiday before the big shindig. We can drop you in Cardiff for the week, or—”

“Or,” Donna said before Rose could continue.

Jenny nodded eagerly. “You mean you’ll drop us off on another planet, yeah?”

“If you want,” Rose said.

Jenny and Donna exchanged a look, then broke out in matching grins. “Yes!”

Rose hugged Donna and kissed Jenny on the cheek, then gently pushed them both towards the corridor. “Go lie down. We’ll drop you off in the morning after you’ve slept off some of the jet lag.” She leaned against a strut and watched them go, while the Doctor sent them into the Vortex just like Jenny had asked.

He slid the dematerialisation lever into place, and the time rotor quietly chugged up and down. The transition into the Vortex was so smooth that Rose hardly felt it.

A soft mental tug caught her attention, and she looked over at the Doctor. He’d sat down on the jump seat, and now he patted the seat beside him.

Rose pushed off from the strut and walked around the console, hopping up to sit beside the Doctor like she’d done a thousand times. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

“What are you thinking?”

“This life,” she said, talking slowly so she could put the words together as they came to her. “It’s… so much more than I thought it would be.”

She paused, and the Doctor left the silence empty so she could think.

“I thought I’d lost this at Canary Wharf,” she said finally.

“Lost what?”

“Just… human things,” she said, testing the words as she went. “Helping family move. Meeting them at the airport.”

She tilted her head back so she could look at the Doctor. “I love our life, traveling through time and space. And if I could never have anything else, this is what I’d choose. Every time.”

“But we get to have more,” he supplied, understanding what she was trying to get at. “Our life in the TARDIS, and a family on Earth.”

“Yeah. Time and space… and family.”

[spicyfloaty]

Give & Take | Chapter 7

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 3.4k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: This You?

“Too slow.”

Ochako’s pen comes to a screeching halt upon hearing the alarm from Bakugo’s phone, making a tiny smudge beside the halfway done solution scrawled on her notebook. Her fingers tighten around her pen, teeth chewing the inside of her cheek in frustration. I didn’t even get to finish.

“You already screwed it up over here,” Bakugo says gruffly, pointing to the beginning lines of her solution, “and here.” He drags his fingers down to the second and third lines. A pair of stern eyes meet hers and their message is as clear as day, Get your shit together, dumbass.

He takes her notebook and writes down another problem from the black notebook he’s been copying questions from, the same one she saw beside his sleeping head just a few days ago. She had never brought it up again since she knew this would only make him feel more embarrassed, but the sight of it still sends shockwaves of warmth all throughout her body.

Bakugo slides the notebook back to her, Ochako’s eyes quickly scan the new problem beneath her before giving the signal, “Go.” The timer starts as soon as her pen lands on the page.

They had been going over questions back to back for the past hour, maybe even more. She had been getting most of the answers right for the past few sessions, but Bakugo decided to take it up a notch by timing her while she solved for them. As nerve wracking as the new challenge may be, it was useful for making sure she answered every single item on Ectoplasm’s test despite the time limit he’ll be setting for it.

Ochako still had a ways to go in order to solve a problem correctly under the weight of this new kind of pressure, if anything, she still had a lot of work to do to be able to completely finish writing her solutions down before Bakugo’s phone starts wailing to remind her that she had blew it once again.

She was on the fifth line of her solution when she heard the telltale ring of failure resounding from the phone on Bakugo’s side of the desk. Just as how the questions had become exceedingly harder by the minute, so was the urge to send his phone flying to the other side of the room had become harder to resist. She knew better than to do that, of course, Bakugo had already looked upset enough as it is with her performance so far, she didn’t need to add a broken phone to the growing list of things he could yell at her about.

Bakugo silences the alarm, leaning forward to check her work, unfinished work to be more precise. He had always been this close whenever he went over her work, the scent of his shampoo suddenly becoming stronger as she waited for his judgement. His eyebrows furrow and his lips twist to a frown, “Wrong,” he huffs, “and incomplete.”

Her hand slides past her temple, making its way to her hair, raking through its soft locks in hopes of finding comfort in each strand or better yet, to release the tension and pressure building up inside her, “Give me the next one.” She says, a hint of irritation coating her words.

This time, the next question he writes down for her seemed easier to figure out compared to the previous ones. The timer starts the second she starts writing, every single cell in her body was hell bent on answering this problem as fast as she could and there might as well be smoke coming from the page with the speed she was going at. The alarm sounds and a drop of sweat falls on the last digits of her answer as she finally completes the solution.

Bakugo leaned over once more and Ochako had to forcefully shut down all thoughts about what kind of hair products he used and focused on the building anticipation in the pit of her stomach, “Did you even read the question?” He growls, crossing several parts of her solution in red ink. Confusion wrinkles her face as she checks the question on the top of the page, only for her eyes to grow two times its size upon realizing her mistake, “Ugh! I read it wrong!”

She flops herself over her desk in surrender, a muffled sound of frustration escaping her lips, “What the hell is wrong with you today?” She hears him ask. She knew the answer to that just as much as he did.

“I give up,” she exhales, her distorted admission of defeat sends her hot breath towards the desk and back to her face. Ochako hears another alarm sound but this time it was coming from her own phone, signaling the end of another session, “You can go now.” She mutters, expecting to hear the sound of footsteps rushing out the door just like it’s always been.

Instead she hears, “No.”

She lifts her head from her desk, the confused look on her face bounces off of the serious one on his, “What do you mean, no?” She asks as if Bakugo had refused to save a civilian from a burning building. She had been used to him contradicting most of what she said almost all the time, but all the times he had consistently left the room the moment her phone’s alarm went off almost made it into a solid fact, a routine at least.

“Your dumbass isn’t going anywhere until you get one right.” He orders. The first thing that passes through her head was the fact that it was Bakugo who refused to go anywhere, not her. The second thought was a big fat question mark on why he was choosing to stay this time around when he never failed to bolt out the classroom whenever their previous sessions would come to an end.

The low grumble of her belly helps her remember why these sessions never go beyond the two hours allotted for them, “I have to eat, Bakugo.” Ochako points out, she’d usually be pigging out the moment she gets back to the dorms.

Bakugo slings his bag over his shoulders and raises an eyebrow at her, “We’ll go to Lunch Rush.” Her ears perk up at the sound of the word we, “We?”

“Who the fuck else is going to check your answers, idiot?” He barks as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ll be writing while I eat?” She asks, surely she’d at least be given the time to fill her stomach first.

An impatient look looms over Bakugo’s face, “You have two hands, don’t you?” He turns away and starts to make his way towards the door, “Now stop asking questions, pack your shit, and hurry the hell up.”

Ochako did not have to be told twice for her to haul herself outside the classroom. The journey to the cafeteria was a quiet one and a weird feeling settled inside her at the strange situation she found herself in, walking behind Bakugo after school hours. To Lunch Rush. To eat. Together.

They finally arrive at the cafeteria and thankfully, there were only a few people in sight, a few unfamiliar faces of students and a couple of teachers on their laptops. The place was relatively deserted. Bakugo stops beside an empty table and turns to her, “Sit.” Ochako sets her things down onto the vacant seat and plops herself beside them, “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog.” She barked, shooting him a dirty look. He rolls his eyes and gestures to the pile of stuff beside her, “Less yapping, more reading.” He bites.

She begrudgingly takes out her textbook and starts rereading the topic they were going over just a while ago, “Good girl.” He teases, going along with that dog bit. Another shit eating grin plasters itself on his dumb face before he walks away, which was a good thing because if he had stayed a second longer, she would have pulled a Zuckerberg and smacked Bakugo’s face with all four hundred pages of her book.

Fantasies of thwacking Bakugo with her textbook along with her rereading said textbook were interrupted by the tray of food suddenly descending in front of her, its savory smell invading her nostrils and amplifying the growl of her stomach ten fold. Ochako quickly reaches for her wallet while Bakugo sets his tray down in front of him as he takes his seat across from her.

“Keep that shit to yourself.” He snaps, eyes swiftly darting to the hand making its way to her pockets.

“Oh, come on.” She whines. Ochako understood that paying for both meals was a guy thing, but weren’t those only done on stuff like dates or something like that?

Another impatient glare targets her, “Pay me back by getting your shit together.” He fires back, pointing to her textbook.

She was about to insist further, but seeing the look of finality scorning his face, there was probably no other hope in convincing him otherwise. With one final sigh, she opens her notebook and readies her pen on one hand while holding a spoon with the other.

“The hell are you doing?” He asks.

“I thought you said I’d be writing while eating?” She retorts. He says I’ve got two hands for this, right? I’m just doing as I’m told.

“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to take that seriously.” He scoffs, “Now eat, dumbass.”

It’s Ochako’s turn to roll her eyes at this. She sets her pen down and places her full attention on the hot meal in front of her, picking up her fork before glancing at Bakugo’s tray. She was alone with a guy who insisted on paying for both their meals. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that this was a date, but she knew better so she was quick to dismiss the thought.

“Quit staring at my food, round face.” He barks, emphasizing the nickname to paint her as some kind of glutton. Ochako shoots him one last glare before digging in, she was a few bites in before Bakugo started to eat his own food. She notices his hardened expression slip into a calmer one as he ate with such delicacy, his chopsticks methodically removing the bones in his fish, carefully picking apart the meat as he brings each piece to his mouth.

Ochako couldn’t help but stare at him, she was stunned by the precision in each of his movements and the way he was making it all look so easy made it out to be as if he had done this all his life. She wasn’t exactly expecting him to eat like some sort of barbarian, no, but not just anyone could eat fish so cleanly, let alone with chopsticks.

Her prolonged staring and the amazed look on her face doesn’t go unnoticed, “What are you looking at?” He sneers, chopsticks stopping midway to his lips.

“I’ve never seen anyone my age eat fish like that before.” She explains, “My mom tried to teach me when I was little, but I couldn’t bear to sit through the complicated process.”

Bakugo’s eyebrows furrow at her story, “It’s not that hard.” He counters.

“I gave up after the third helping of fish.” She smiles, recalling the memory. Handling chopsticks with such care for her to cleanly debone the entire fish before she ate was not a routine she could commit to before each meal.

Bakugo lowers the chopsticks down to his plate before his lips twist to a scowl, “There you go again with that shit.”

Ochako’s eyebrows knit together in total confusion, “What?” She didn’t recall saying or doing anything to piss him off, but then again almost anything and everything could piss Bakugo off.

“Giving up.” He points out, the features of his face still contorted with a mix of confusion and annoyance, “Stop it.”

The gears in her head slowly process this and the answer of a question in the back of her head dawns on her, “Is that why you stayed?” She asks, putting two and two together. Was all of this just his own way of telling her not to give up on herself?

“Tch, never pegged you as a quitter,” Bakugo looks away, “it pissed me off finding out that all it took to make you back down was a simple fucking math problem.”

“It wasn’t simple.” She immediately fires back without missing a beat.

“To you.” He replies as a matter of factly.

“Well, of course it would be easy for you,” she reasons, “you made them.” It was only after she saw his look of surprise and the slight touch of pink dusting Bakugo’s cheeks, that she realized her mistake. Ah crap, I shouldn’t have brought that up.

Bakugo’s eyes focus on his food, “Whatever,” he mutters, picking up his chopsticks, “All I’m saying is giving up doesn’t suit you, idiot.” He punctuates his sentence by taking a careful bite of his fish.

Ochako’s gaze also finds their way to her meal, cheeks also flushing at his comment. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat giddy at the fact that Bakugo believed in her abilities to a point where he chose to stay and help her push past her own doubts. She brings her spoon to her mouth before it could break into a wide smile.

A few quiet minutes pass and despite Bakugo being the one with the slower, more careful technique in eating, he finishes first, “Can you eat any slower?” He drones impatiently.

“Shut up.” She says in a very Bakugo-like fashion. Her sentiment didn’t sound like coherent words, though, since it was muffled by the chunks of food she was shoving into her mouth at an alarming rate. He wanted her to eat faster? Then she was going to deliver.

“Disgusting.” He mumbles, earning him another glare from her.

Ochako finally finishes her food, she then turns to her side to fish out the notebook and pen she had put away a while ago, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Clean that shit on your face first.” Bakugo points to her face, another look of disgust aimed straight at her. She raises an eyebrow, pointing to her right cheek, “Here?”

His eyebrows furrow further, “Other side.” He presses on, a twinge of annoyance lacing his voice.

She brings her fingers to her left cheek, attempting to wipe away the stain she couldn’t see, “There?” Bakugo makes another sound of frustration and before she could grab her phone to check for herself he leans over and brushes his thumb over the corner of her lip. It was quick, a brief contact of skin, but it was enough for her to shut up.

“You eat like a pig.” He says flatly. This comment would have elicited a snarky comeback from her but like she said, it shut her up.

Bakugo grabs her notebook and begins to write a question for her, he slides it back towards her and sets up the timer on his phone, “Ready to get your shit together, round face?”

Ochako tears her attention away from the heat of the skin on her lip and reads over the new problem, “Go.”

She focuses with all her might in writing her solution just in time before the alarm sounds, making sure to not be careless this time around. Ochako had been meaning to score at least 80 percent on that test for Ectoplasm’s class, but after recent events, a particular condition to be more specific, she had been determined to get a hundred. What else was ace that test supposed to mean in Bakugo’s book other than to simply get a perfect score?

Her focus momentarily wavers due to movement from the corner of her eye and faint whispers from their side. Ochako was halfway through the answer when Bakugo’s phone blares that god forsaken alarm, he takes her notebook to check her answers and she turns to her left to see that two first years were whispering amongst themselves and snickering after occasionally looking their way.

“What were you supposed to write?” Bakugo asks, eyes still trained on her work. She shifts her gaze back to him, “44.05” She replies.

“Wrong.” He deadpans as Ochako clicked her tongue in frustration, Focus!

Bakugo hands her another question, but this time, her peripheral vision catches a phone being pointed towards their direction. She whips her head to the side and confirms that one of the two students indeed had their phone out angled towards them.

“You’re never getting one right if you keep looking over there, dumbass.” Bakugo barks, stopping the timer.

Ochako turns to him, “I think they’re taking pictures of us.” She points out in a hushed tone.

“And?” He asks impatiently.

“If they are, that could spread.” She presses on further, but it doesn’t seem to get through to him.

“And?”

A puff of air escapes her nostrils, Why does he not get it? “I don’t know if you can recall, but there’s already enough rumors about us going around.” She reminds him, “This will not help.”

Bakugo’s face scrunches up, “I don’t know if you can recall, but I already asked you who the fuck cares?”

“I do!” She snaps, “Just because you’re okay with it, doesn’t mean I am, okay?.” Ochako turns her attention back to the two students beside them, trying to soften the hardened look she was giving Bakugo a few seconds ago, “Excuse me.” She begins, “Can you please stop taking photos of us? It’s not nice to take pictures of strangers without consent.”

The guy doesn’t put his phone away and the girl sitting beside him speaks up for both of them, “That ain’t in the UA Handbook, lady, we can do whatever we want.” She announces.

The beginning of a response was sitting on the tip of her tongue when Bakugo suddenly stood up from his seat to face them head on, “Put that shit away or I break it along with both of your faces.” He growled, towering over them with fierce animosity.

Both first years let out distinct terrified squeaks before gathering their stuff and scrambling away to the exit. Bakugo returns to his seat, a scowl still etched deep into his face, “Thanks.” She breathes out.

Without making any eye contact, he grabs her notebook and angrily scribbles down the next question. He slides it towards her and waits for her signal, eyes still focused on his phone.

Ochako draws in a deep breath, “Go.”

She feels the strain on her wrist as she wrote the first few lines of math as fast as she could, eyes darting back and forth from her solution to the problem to make sure she didn’t read anything wrong this time. She focuses on the goal at hand, a rematch that would ultimately decide how much she’s improved since last time, a match that would put her abilities to the test once more against the best opponent anyone could ever ask for. Despite these thoughts, she starts to feel more agitated, the pressure of the ticking seconds weighing down on her shoulders, making the pen in her hand feel ten times as heavy.

She feels a flick on her forehead which trips the marathon of thoughts running through her mind, bringing her back safely to the ground. Ochako looked up to see Bakugo’s eyes fixated on hers and with just one word, the heaviness on her chest was gone.

“Relax.”

The clouded skies in her mind clear as her breathing returned to normal, hands slowly and carefully writing the last parts of her solution. She encircles the final answer and gently places her pen beside it. Bakugo goes over her work and grins.

“Fucking finally.”

---

They walk back to the dorms, once again treading in complete silence. Bakugo was ahead of her, both earphone buds lodged in his ears. They were a few feet away from the dorm’s entrance when she tapped his shoulder, “Hey.”

He takes off one of his earphones and lazily looks over to her, “You don’t think that it’ll spread right?” She asks, her thoughts going back to the two first years.

Bakugo rolls his eyes as he opens the door for her, “Will you calm the fuck down, it’s not like we were making out--.”

Both of them stop dead in their tracks when they see the entirety of Class 1A lounging on the couches, watching a movie. Kaminari lifts his head from the back of the couch and grins from ear to ear, “Making out, eh?”

Kirishima smiles at his phone before holding it up for both of them to see. On the screen was a very high definition photo of Bakugo leaning over across the cafeteria’s table to wipe her face, “This you?”

[ashes-and-ashes]

Birthday Part 1

A bit of backstory to this fic:

So tomorrow (July 15th) happens to be the amazing Aly’s birthday! Seeing as she is one of the most incredible people ever, I decided that I was going to write her a birthday fic.

Of course I had intended for it to be pure fluff, but my evil brain doesn’t work like that. After an hour, I seemed to have 2808 words of angst, with very little fluff. And (despite Aly being the Princess of Angst) I was not sure if she wanted such depression on her birthday.

So, I split the story up! Here is the first bit of angst, and I’ll post the fluffy bit tomorrow. The fluffy bit is purely dedicated to Aly, and I’ll write an incredibly long and gushy post about her tomorrow. However, here’s the first angst and depressing bit - hope it’s okay!

@withrewings

~

Sirius was going to explode.

It was March 4th, a mere 6 days before Remus’ birthday and Sirius still hadn’t managed to produce anything suitable for his present. He had started drawing in January, convinced that three months was enough for him to create something good enough to give to Remus, but the days had rolled by and suddenly Sirius was left with a sketchbook of half-finished drawings and a looming sense of dread.

He winced, bending back over the page, ignoring the shiny charcoal film covering the side of his hand. His fingers ached from grabbing onto the stub, his back sore from being hunched over the paper for hours, but Sirius didn’t really care. He bit his lip idly, tracing the curls of Remus’ hair, the tilt of his chin, the hollows carved into his back and arms -

“Goddamn it!” With a snarl, Sirius stood, interrupting Marlene’s rant about the Slytherin Girls. He hurled the sketchbook to the ground; the back cover bent with a slight crunch as it hit the floor, the pages flipping open to reveal the sketch he had just been working on. “God-fucking-damn it!”

The others barely looked his way - Sirius’ outbursts were common enough now that everyone had gotten used to the swearing and yelling. It was late at night - they were the only ones in the common room. James bent down, scooping up the book with one hand, eyes still fixed on Marlene. “Go on Marls. What did you say to her?”

“More like what did you do to her,” Dorcas muttered. “No way that girl made it out in one piece.”

Marlene flashed a quicksilver grin. “I hexed her nose off. Completely. Transfigured it into the tiniest mushroom attached to her ugly face. God, they were so mad.”

James let out a laugh, throwing his head back; in the background Sirius noticed one of the twins (Either Fabian or Gideon - the light from the fireplace was dim, and he couldn’t quite pick out the details on their faces) hand a galleon to Benjy, who was sitting on the mantle. “Priceless.”

Peter leaned forward, eyes wide. “How long do you have detention for?”

Marlene shrugged. “Detention will last 3 months. But the tales will last forever. I’ll be a goddamn Hogwarts legend.”

“You’re already one,” Lily assured her. She tapped James on the shoulder. “Prongs. Want to give Sirius his book back?”

With a smirk, James held the book out to Sirius, the covers still open to reveal the half-finished drawing. “Oh right. I forgot.”

Sirius snatched the sketchbook back, flipping him off. “Oh, shut up.”

They were all meant to be discussing Remus’ party (Remus having gone to bed ages ago) but the hours had ticked away and they had planned absolutely nothing. Sirius wasn’t surprised - nothing ever seemed to work when everyone got together, except for a whole heap of snogging between Marlene and Dorcas, and James and Lily.

He scowled down at the sketch in his lap, the half-finished outline of Remus, silhouetted against a huge moon, the curve of his spine mirroring the constellations twinkling above him. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth. “I’m so screwed.”

Lily looked surprised. “Why? That one is beautiful, Sirius. He’d love that.”

Sirius shook his head, violently flipping to another page. “No! This one is...is…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. She was sprawled in a huge chair, legs dangling over the side; Marlene gave her bare legs a long look before winking at Sirius. “I think this one is pretty.”

“God.” Sirius groaned, slamming the book shut. “It’s romantic. It looks like we’re dating or something.”

Benjy snorted, swinging his feet from where he was perched on the mantle. “Aren’t you already?”

Sirius flipped him off; he could feel blood rising to his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure Remus is straight, Benj.”

“Only one way to find out,” Kingsley muttered; the room erupted in laughter.

“I say,” mused Marlene, “That you should draw him in an intimate position.”

“Maybe with a collar,” Fabian called, “And chains, black leather and fishnets - “

Dorcas laughed. “A gag!”

“You should draw me in that!” Benjy yelled over the laughter. “I’d love to be drawn in collars and chains and black leather fishnet stockings.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius said. He scowled, staring down at his hands; there was a scar shaking across his index finger where his mother had broken it once. “You guys are absolutely useless.”

“Says the guy without a present,” Lily muttered. Sirius stuck his tongue out at her.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Look,” he began, “Remus is...Remus. He’d love anything you drew him. Stop over complicating it.”

Sirius spread his arms out wide. “Over complicating is what I do, darling.”

Benjy snorted. “I’d prefer that you do Remus.”

He was definitely blushing now, Sirius could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, spreading over the back of his neck like a flood. He scowled again, running a hand through his hair; it was already wild and tangled, paint and God knew what else caught in the dark locks. “You know what?” he said, then paused. “I was going to say ‘Screw you all’ but I reconsidered because I knew you would turn it into something about screwing Remus. So go eat a bowtruckle.”

He could hear Benny’s voice carry, even as he turned the corner and started up the stairs. “Why don’t you eat Remus?”

Sirius scowled. “Fuck off Benjy!”

~

Sirius glares down at the paper.

He knew he wasn’t going to give this one to Remus anyways. It wasn’t even the drawing that screwed it up - the paper was crinkled from where he had grasped it, the lines smudged and faded, too intense and too bold. It turned everything into hard lines, points instead of curves, edges instead of sweeps. He knew he was wasting time, drawing something that he would never, could never show Remus but it lessened the tightness in his chest, made it easier to breathe.

He had 2 sketchbooks. The first one had a red cover, and he used it for all his doodles. Pages of simple things: wand tips and goblets, candles and flowers, spellbooks and cauldrons and hundreds of unicorns. He brought that one everywhere, kept it in his school bag, was always doodling in it until the book was finished.

The second book was black, the cover heavy and Sirius always kept this one under his bed, because who wouldn’t know? This book contained everything - a boy on his knees, broken fingers, a single burning piano key. Scars, hundreds of them, rendered in perfect detail, all torn flesh and blood and bones, the lashes seared into his brain. He drew fingers with scar marks and backs with claw marks and even the broken, bleeding figure of an angel with its wings sawed off.

And Remus. This book was filled with Remus as well, all the shattered, beautiful parts of him, all the scars and cuts and marks. He drew Remus crying, and Remus screaming and sometimes he drew Remus kissing him.

He stared down at the drawing now, splayed on the page in front of him. He had hesitated when he drew him and Remus, but once he started he couldn’t stop. The charcoal spilled out of him, bleeding onto the paper, and everything was the same. Two boys kissing, the desperation clear in the clenching of their fingers or the arch of their spine, mused curls and closed eyes and scars like brushstrokes on their skin and Sirius couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

He wondered, sometimes, what Remus would say if he saw him, if he peeked into that black sketchbook, saw every dark crack in Sirius’ heart laid bare. Everyone had their secrets, he supposed. His were just more open than most.

There was a rustling sound from behind him; Sirius quickly flipped the page. It was late at night, the room filled with the sounds of people breathing, dreams spiraling into the air. The nightmare had woken Sirius up, the fractured visions of his parents and Death Eaters, and he had spent the rest of the night drawing, filling up even more pages in the sketchbook. He glanced down and started; the lines he had made were so dark that the colour had bled through the page, leaving smudges and streaks and the delicate tracery of lines carved into the page in front of him. He hastily closed the sketchbook, pulling the red one onto his lap, opening it to a random part in the book. Damn. This one was of Remus too, a idle study of him sleeping, his curls framing his face with gold.

He was about to turn the page again when the curtains on his bed flew open. It was as if his drawing had come to life; Remus stood there, golden curls forming a messy halo around his face, his eyes half lidded from exhaustion. He yawned, running his hands through his hair. “You okay?”

Sirius shrugged. “Sure.”

Remus frowned. “You’re always so closed off. It’s like you’re hiding something. Keeping something locked away.”

Yeah, my love for you, Sirius thought, but he didn’t say anything. He shifted, pulling the covers up around him, focusing on his breathing. Remus shot hi a concerned look.“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Sirius’ hands tightened around the blankets. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

Remus regarded him thoughtfully, then pulled the curtains wider. He slid into bed next to Sirius, gently rearranging the blankets until his warm legs tangled with Sirius’ cold ones. “It’s like lying in bed next to an ice sculpture.”

Sirius forced a laugh. Remus was too close right now; he was certain that he could feel his heart pounding. “It’s like lying in bed next to a furnace.”

Remus laughed, the sound warm and rich. God, Sirius could drown in that sound. He shifted over, giving Remus some more room, twisting until his head was tucked under Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the air smelling of wool and pine and clean cotton -

“Shit,” Remus said. “Is that me?”

With a jolt, Sirius opened his eyes; the book on his lap had fallen, the pages splayed open to reveal the sketch of Remus sleeping. He swallowed, hard, fighting to keep his voice steady. “No. It’s the fucking Duke of Alytown.”

Remus punched his shoulder. “Shut up.” With a shaking hand he reached over, picking the book up carefully, tilting it so the light fell on the pages and illuminated the drawing. “Did you...did you draw this?”

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His heart was hammering triple-time in his chest, like a huge drum - he was certain Remus could hear it. “Nope. I just fall asleep with drawings of you on my lap all the time. I actually commissioned Snape to draw this, you see - he would creep into our room at night and - “

“Jesus.” Remus’ mouth hung open, his eyes wide as he turned the drawing back and forth. This close Sirius could see his eyelashes, golden against his skin, so fine that it looked as if they were spun from spider silk. “God. This is beautiful, Sirius.”

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius said, then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Smooth, Sirius. Real smooth you fucktard.

Remus laughed, more in shock then anything. “Me? I’m not...I’m not…”

“Beautiful?”

Remus looked down at his hand. “Yeah.” He pauses, clearly struggling with something; his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk before he continued. “Just look at me. I’m...I’m ruined. I’m scarred all over.”

Sirius bit his lip, hard. In his mind he saw his back, the lashes standing out like lines of silver, raised and thick and livid. He swallowed, hard. “Sometimes the cracks are the most interesting part of a sculpture.”

The barest edge of a smile ghosted over Remus’ face. “But it’s still ruined all the same.”

If only you could see, Sirius thought, If only you could see how beautiful you are, how perfect you’ve become. If only I could draw you the way I see you.

He coughed; with a steady hand he tore the sketch out of his book, handing it to Remus. “Keep it,” he said, then shook his head at the shocked expression on Remus’ face. “It’s yours now. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I’ll just whip up another drawing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and a beautiful, dazzling smile raced across Remus’s face, making it look like the sun had coated him in strands of liquid gold. Beautiful, Sirius thought, and his heart gave a painful twist in his chest.

“Thanks Sirius. But I don’t…I don’t need this, you know. All I want is...is you, I guess. Your heart. I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.”

Sirius looked down. “Anything for you, Re.”

~

He couldn’t stop himself from drawing Remus.

The black sketchbook was open on his lap again, a fresh page blank and empty. His hands were dark, coated in the shiny-grey of graphite, his clothes covered in the stuff. He had been drawing for ages without taking a break, his eyes dropping from exhaustion and yet he allowed the sketch to bleed out of him, splattering across the page.

He was almost done the black sketchbook, had only a few pages left. Usually a book would last him 6 months, but he had filled half the book in less then 3 weeks. It was like he was an addict, thirsting for something he could never have, lightning and thunder and rain echoing through his veins. He couldn’t stop himself now, even as he continued filling the pages, Remus staring up at him from every angle.

Sirius took a shaking breath. It felt like he was underwater, drowning in his feelings for Remus, threatening to blow him apart with every gasping inhale of air. He set the pencil to the paper, letting his mind take over, the curve of Remus’ eyes gradually starting to fill the page.

He remembered the first time he had seen Remus, 5 years ago, standing in the compartment of a train as the sun went down over the hills. He was with James, wild and rebellious because for the first time ever he was free, when the door had opened and Remus had stepped into the compartment.

There was something different about him, even back then, some ethereal way that Remus moved. He remembered how the light had hit Remus’ face in just the right way, casting his features into shadow, making him look like some beautiful bronze statue and all Sirius could do was stare.

There was always some part of him that had loved Remus, but it really hit him in 4th year. He had been playing Quidditch, backlog against the setting sun, and he had looked down and seen Remus in the stands and his heart swelled up and he couldn’t breathe. He knew it then, while hurtling through the sky on his broom, knew he would have given up anything to make Remus happy.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a sharp crack; he had pressed down so hard on the pencil that it had shattered, pieces skidding all over his sheet. Sirius scowled, glaring down at the page - there was a boy on a broom and a boy on the ground, the light hitting them until it looked like a spotlight, wind whipping their hair around them. He swore, staring down at his hands - it was so obvious. All it would take was for someone to look at his book to know what he felt towards Remus. He couldn’t burden Remus with that, the unrequited feelings of a shattered boy. Remus had already been through far too much - Sirius couldn’t heap another load onto his shoulders.

But what if he did? The thought rose up unbidden. What if he did like you?

His mind flickered back, sorting through the memories of the year - the Train, Remus’ hands tight around his neck. The Christmas Feast, sitting together under the cold half moon. January, grasping onto Remus’ fingers, the desperation in his eyes as he began to change. Valentine’s Day, a single chocolate, a whispered conversation. Sirius, I…

“I what?” Sirius had said.

Remus shook his head. “Never mind.”

So many moments, so many hidden touches, and Sirius’ heart was pounding because what if? What if there was a chance?

He was gripping the sketchbook tightly, so hard that the cover was digging into his palms, scoring lines across his palm. Remus had told him what he wanted that night, didn’t he? I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.

“My heart,” Sirius said, out loud to the wind. Slowly, his hands tightened around the sketchbook.

He knew exactly what to give to Remus tomorrow.

[pessimisticlatte]

Glass Roses - Chapter 5

Marichat ~ Adrienette ~ Platonic Marigami ~ Lukagami ~ Chlobrina ~ Nathemilie ~ Gabenath

-Eventual Reveal-

~~~~~~~

Madame Bustier was not impressed with Marinette and Adrien when they finally arrived in class. She’d completed roll call 2 minutes prior, as they were still walking up the stairs, and now had to log back into the new, confusing online system to mark the two newcomers off as present. Ayla shot Marinette a sly wink from her seat on Nino’s desk and Mari felt an extreme embarrassment flare over her face.

“Sorry for keeping Marinette from coming up to class when the bell rang, Madame Bustier, I’d seen a garment she’d made for our friend, Kagami, and was asking if she could make one for me. I didn’t mean to make both of us late,” Adrien gave an angelic smile to the redheaded teacher who knew better than attempt to argue with Gabriel Agreste’s son. Even if Adrien hadn’t been the son of the man who almost literally held all of France in the palm of his hand, he hadn’t lied to her before so why should he start now. The main source of her annoyance was, of course, the new student sign in system. She hated it with a burning passion.

“That’s quite alright, Adrien,” Madame Bustier’s fingers tapped heavily against the keyboard of her laptop as she tried, for the fourth time that morning, to log into the website correctly. It kept insisting that her password was wrong but when she tried to change it, it told her that she couldn’t change the new password to the old one. “Marinette, your seat is at the back of the room this year, and you will be sitting next to Alya when she realises that tables aren’t for sitting on.”

The teacher, of course, was joking. Alya had asked permission before sitting on Nino’s desk as the class had watched Madame Bustier struggle with the login system. Max had tried to help but the minute they’d gotten into the program, the computer had frozen and then they discovered that the user interface was absolutely awful. Max vowed to make an easier site for Madame Bustier to use but it would take him maybe a week to research and a few more days to complete. If she could keep her sanity for that long, Madame Bustier might just add the teenager to her will.

“Adrien, you’ll be seated next to Lila,” Madame Bustier pointed at an empty desk beside the rather awful strawberry blonde girl as she tried to enter her password again. Lila gave Adrien a Cheshire smile, all too white teeth and hidden malice, Adrien felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked up the stairs and slid onto the bench beside her. Marinette walked up the stairs behind her, her cheeks still a raging crimson, she met Adrien’s eyes and allowed her lips to form a soundless ‘I’m sorry’ before she walked out of his peripheral vision and slid into her own seat. Alya joined her not a moment later.

“Hi, Adrien,” Lila dragged out every vowel of her greeting and batted her mascara caked lashes at him, sending flakes to congregate on her cheeks. “How was your holiday?”

“It was good,” Adrien gave a clipped response as he pulled his workbook and pencil case out of his bag, setting them on the desk. Pretending to stretch, Adrien’s eyes roamed the room and counted the number of rows between him and Marinette. Alya was whispering to Mari, her opal coloured eyes shining with mirth as whatever she said sent Mari into a fit of barely stifled giggles. With her index finger, Marinette pushed Alya’s glasses back up her nose, her other hand covering her mouth.

“Just good, didn’t you do anything? I heard you went to New York,” Lila’s voice oozed a sarrachine sweetness that made Adrien’s teeth ache. He hadn’t missed Lila over the holidays, he’d barely registered her existence when she commented on one of his social media posts or attempted to message him, he’d been busy of course but after finding out that Marinette was Ladybug he’d been preoccupied with his feelings for her and how he was going to ask her out.

“I did,” Adrien flipped his workbook open and marked the date at the top of the page, waiting for Madame Bustier to turn the projector on.

“What’s happened, Adrien? You seem so unhappy? Was it Marinette? Did she say something to you and make you lie to cover for her?” Lila placed her talon tipped hand on Adrien’s arm, her eyes swimming with false worry. The sharpened acrylic nails that adorned every one of her fingers were painted in a mocking buttercup yellow with small animal stickers on each of them. She’d chosen to make the acrylics as long as she possibly could and as sharp as the nail technician would allow, Lila knew exactly how her nails would come across to others in her class and having her hand on Adrien like this was staking her claim.

“No, I’m just trying to get focused for class. Why would Marinette ever do something to make me lie for her? Why would Marinette even need to lie?” Adrien swept his arm out from under Lila’s hand and rested it closer to the edge of his workbook, his elbows bracketed him in a way that he hoped would make her back off. It hadn’t been 10 minutes but Adrien’s tolerance for the meticulously fake strawberry blonde beside him was wearing ever thinner. 

“You obviously don’t know Dupain-Cheng very well, Adrien,” Lila turned away from him and folded her hands across the table in front of her. Madame Bustier cheered as the projector illuminated the board and displayed a powerpoint presentation on the topics they’d be covering that term.

~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel Agreste stood beside his wife, Emilie’s, coffin with his hand resting gently on the slightly fogged glass. His heart felt heavy, it always did when he stood in this room, and he felt the overwhelming absence of her. A mocking echo of her laugh resounded in his ears, a dimmed and ghastly mimic of her smile burned into his retinas, the shadow sensation of her soft pale golden hair on his fingertips, she was so close but so far and no matter how much time he spent by her side, talking to her, she wouldn’t wake up until he combined the Ladybug and Cat miraculouses to wish her out of her deathlike sleep.

He told Emilie about the trip to New York he had taken with Adrien and how regretful he felt for missing so much of Adrien’s life. Gabriel hadn’t seen the man his son was becoming and his heart had felt weighed down with guilt ever since they returned from the United States; he’d missed so much of his son’s life and he would never be able to get those years back. Without him, Adrien had grown into a level-headed, moral, intelligent and passionate young man, it was more than Gabriel had hoped he’d become but he mourned not having a part in shaping him. A single solitary tear slid down the weathered cheek of the fashion mogul, soon wiped away by a silken handkerchief that had been crushed tightly in his hand.

Though Gabriel knew that what he was going was wrong, Nooroo had told him enough times, he wouldn’t stop until the light that had once shined so brightly from his wife returned and brought her with it. Nathalie had been enough to sate his needs over the past few years, his willing assistant taking over the maternal role left empty by Gabriel’s own mistake, but he knew that Emilie was the only woman he would ever love, regardless of what Nathalie felt for him and he felt, somewhat, in return for her. He’d suspected for a while that his assistant had been falling in love with him but the trip to New York had cemented that suspicion when Nathalie had accidentally referred to Gabriel and Adrien as ‘her family’. Admittedly, the sound of those words rolling off her tongue had brought a warmth to his soul that he hadn’t felt for too long, but he wouldn’t rest, he wouldn’t give in, until it was Emilie saying them.

Nooroo had tapped Gabriel into the emotional aura of Paris when they’d first bonded years ago, before Emilie had become comatose, and allowed him to scan the city looking for the strongest emotional aura to harness to draw Ladybug and Chat Noir out and take their miraculouses. When Emilie had been awake, Gabriel used this power to encourage good deeds to come of those he reached out to; allowing them the strength to lift buildings and save their trapped family members or ask their beloved to marry them. Since she’d gone, he’d only been able to connect to negative emotions of anger, sadness or jealousy, it made his villains stronger though, those negative emotions. Nothing could drive a person more than hate.

“I will wake you, my love, I will get the Ladybug and Cat miraculouses very soon and you shall return to me, to our son,” Gabriel wiped a smudge of perspiration off the glass above Emilie’s lips. “You may never forgive me, Emilie, for what I’ve done to bring you back but I need you. Adrien needs you. He must have his mother.”

From behind the doorway into Emilie’s coma room, Nathalie covered her mouth to stop a sob from escaping her lips. Her eyes watered as she felt Gabriel’s words sink into the fragile flesh of her heart, he didn’t know that she’d heard him and he wouldn’t know but it didn’t stop the pain that coursed through her veins. Nathalie had been more than a mother to Adrien, she’d almost single-handedly raised the boy while juggling Gabriel’s secret life, fashion career and general household logistics. She couldn’t remember when she’d fallen in love with him, it had happened so long ago and loving him was easier than breathing; Adrien may not be her son by blood but she loved him as her own, he was more her son than the son of the woman encased in glass only metres away. 

Half jogging, keeping her footfalls gentle as her heart raced, Nathalie fled from the warren hidden beneath the Agreste mansion and escaped to her office. Closing the door and locking it, Nathalie slumped against the heavy wood and slipped into a curled position, keeping her sobs silent, Nathalie let her tears flow and steeled herself. She was fully aware of Gabriel’s connection to emotional auras and she would never allow him to use her to wake Emilie up. Emilie had been her love once too, she had been with Emilie and been her girlfriend long before Gabriel had even been suggested as a friend to either of them. Gabriel had reminded her of Emilie and she loved both differently, but wholly, she would not be used for Gabriel’s game even if she loved Emilie as much as she loved him.

In her heart, Nathalie knew that Emilie would rather be comatose than live with the knowledge of what Gabriel had done to bring her back, the lives he’d ruined and the people he’d killed. Emilie wouldn’t forgive him for abandoning Adrien, her flesh and blood. Unbreakable walls rose around Nathalie’s heart, locking the love she held for Gabriel in a barren wasteland.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kagami sat at a large desk by herself, 3 of the other 4 students had arrived and claimed their desks. The other 3 sat at a table together, ages varying between 12 and 17, and spoke under hushed tones, getting to know each other Kagami deduced.

The final member of their 5 person strong class walked in the door a moment later, a large black guitar case slung over his left shoulder and a satchel bag held by the shoulder strap in his right hand. With a smile toward the teacher, the boy’s eyes scanned the room and landed on Kagami, sitting alone at her immaculately prepared workspace. His walk was as if he was gliding through water, so confident and self assured, as he strode to Kagami’s table and gently set his guitar case down. “Would you like some company?” The boy inclined his head, sending his cobalt tipped fringe sliding across his forehead into his oceanic eyes. “You look like you could use some company.”

“You’re free to sit wherever you like, I have no issue with you sitting with me if you so choose as I would very much like to get to know one of my classmates,” Kagami’s tone was near monotonous, she was unsure whether to be mirthful and open with this boy or wary.

“Luka,” The boy extended his hand, which Kagami took and shook. “Luka Couffaine.”

“Kagami Tsurugi, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Couffaine,” Luka pulled a chair over from a empty nearby desk and faced it backwards to the table, sitting on it with his arms braced on the back of the chair. His bag was now resting beside his guitar case. “I think my friend, Marinette, may have mentioned you before.”

“Luka is fine, Kagami,” He gave a small chuckle and shook his head slightly, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, Mari and my sister, Juleka, are pretty good friends, I met Mari through Jules.”

“You and her spoke whilst you were on holiday, if I remember correctly,” Kagami felt her stiff posture relax, the soft fabric of her kimono jacket soothing against her skin. 

“Yeah, we did, I had a crush on her for a while but it didn’t pan out so I’m more than happy to be one of her friends, she’d a pretty cool girl,” Luka gave a lopsided half-smile. Kagami felt a weird fluttering in her chest, it wasn’t a feeling or emotion she’d categorised but she did remember it as the same one she’d experienced when she saw Marinette smile for the first time. She’d never actively explored her sexuality, she hadn’t ever really had time, but Kagami understood that she was attracted to both men and women, though it depended on who they were for the attraction to develop toward an emotional attachment.

“I hold an attraction for Marinette too,” Kagami wasn’t a shy person, she’d never really had anyone ask before. She’d been attracted to Adrien, but Kagami understood that even someone who loved women and solely women would find Adrien attractive so it hadn’t developed. “She is very enamoured with Adrien Agreste though, so I would prefer her to be happy.”

“I feel the same way,” Luka fiddled with the leather bracelet on his wrist. “About wanting her to be happy, I mean.”

Kagami gave a single nod and allowed a small smile to form on her lips.

“Do you have a nickname, Kagami? I don’t have a problem with your full name but I tend to be a very lazy guy so I prefer to give my friends nicknames,” Luka rested his chin on his crossed arms.

“Alix calls me ‘Gami, but you can give me a nickname if you wish to,” Her expression softened as she looked at him. He was all gentle grace, calming energy, and boundless sweetness, he reminded her of Marinette in that way but she found Luka so much more entrancing.

“Hmmmmm,” Luka cocked his head, pressing his cheek against his arm and squishing the soft white flesh up against his high cheekbone. “Well, in traditional Japanese the name ‘Kagami’ means mirror.”

“Your understanding of Japanese is very good, Luka,” Kagami had to commend him on his translation of her name. Not many Western people could correctly translate simple Japanese, much less her quite unusual name.

“Well, it’s one of the reasons why I’m in this class,” That lopsided smile returned, squished underneath his cheek. “Your French is really good too.”

The two were silent for a moment, Luka in thought and Kagami as she catalogued the compliment he’d just paid her.

“I’ve got one!” Luka raised his head, his glittering eyes meeting Kagami’s. “Echo, I’m gonna call you Echo. To mirror a sound is to echo it, your name means mirror, and, viola, the image of strength before me becomes a resounding echo through history.”

“Thank you, Luka,” Kagami gave him a wide, genuine smile. “I like it very much.”

“Glad you do, Echo,” Luka’s voice was like thick, dark honey, sweet and intoxicating. Her heart skipped a beat and a rational part of her mind insisted that she’d just met the boy, that forming such an attachment to him now would be folly. It didn’t stop her eyes from scanning every inch of his beautiful face. 

“Ohayo, minasan,” The teacher called attention to himself at the front of the class in Japanese. Standing, Kagami gave him a bow and returned his greeting in her native tongue. The teacher gave her a pleased smile and looked around the room expectantly, the other table scrambled to their feet and gave hasty, poorly executed bows with half-hearted greetings. Then Luka gave his, just as eloquently as Kagami. With a satisfied smile, the teacher began the lesson.

~~~~~TAGLINE~~~~~ @lady-charinette @katieykat513 @mochegato @nifflerstorm

DM me to be tagged!

[teenremus]

dog days i

sirius black x reader

word count: 2760

warning: too cliché probably

a/n: my time-jump thing isnt working im highkey confused because its still on my other fics but not,,, this one? im so confused tumblr give me my lines back i have to use a screenshot

part two

[...]

The Whomping Willow had always been your spot, a place where you could go, unbothered, even by the swinging branches themselves. To the amazement of other students, the tree didn't make an effort to throw you out of range when getting too close, you were even allowed to lean up against it.

When others came into the picture, attempting the same as you, they didn't have quite your luck. They were slapped around and pushed away, falling on their arses each time and you just watched from your place underneath it. It was said that you'd bewitched the Willow, forcing it to let you lie there almost every day, but the reality was you hadn't done a single thing. You weren't sure why it let you get so close while you worked on your homework, but it did.

You had figured it out accidentally, running around the grounds away from Lily as you held her newest love letter from James Potter. She was ready to throw it away without giving it a second thought, but you knew just how pure his intentions were, and believed he was right for her.

You were too busy laughing and looking behind you to notice where you were going, and paid no attention to Lily's screams telling you to stop, she'd been doing exactly so for the past two minutes but only jokingly. They were getting louder and less playful, and you didn't realize where you were until you tripped over the root of a tree.

Laughter had died out and you pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, you had dropped the letter below you. You turned your head looked up to see the Whomping Willow giving you what you could only describe as a menacing glare, or that's what you had interpreted it's details as, as fear took over your body and you froze.

It was quiet, as you waited for it to make a move to remove you from it's bark. It's branches waved back and forth in the air as the wind shoved past, pushing your hair out of your face. You took small and slow movements as you stood, holding the letter again. You didn't break the contact your eyes held with the branches.

Lily still stood a safe distance away, one hand reaching beneath her robes and gripping her wand for precaution. She took one step towards the tree, and after her second step the air became stiff. The branches had their own control and stopped swaying peacefully, and stood straight mimicking the hairs on the back of your neck.

She hesitated, but stepped again. One branch swung down and pushed her aside, not too harshly but enough to knock her down with a groan.

"Lily!" You called, watching as the wood retracted to it's usual place. You ran forward without care if the Willow was going to hit you or not.

At her side, you asked if she was okay. However, it was as if the world had gone entirely mute and she had forgotten about you as she just stared into the hole of the Willow tree.

You followed her gaze, shaking your head and extending your hand as you stood to pull her up with you. "Let's not worry about it, Lily, we got lucky."

Lily shoved her wand back in her pocket. "Strange..."

After that incident you had taken it upon yourself to study the Whomping Willow, and much to your surprise you seemed to be the only one that could get so close. It had become your own little tradition to seek out the tree when you wanted to be alone, and never came a time where you weren't welcomed.

You sat on a particularly large root now, legs crossed out in front of you with your charms book resting on top, you used it's hard cover as a surface for the paper you scribbled on.

Boisterous laughter broke your train of thought and disrupted your writing, the letter you were writing became smudged by the sudden flinch in your hand mid stroke. You looked up and saw two boys, one Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff jumping around and pushing each other as they arrived to the grass area.

"Oi! You looking to get slapped around? How'd you get up there?"

You glanced up with hooded eyes as you lifted your parchment and shoved it between two pages of your textbook. It was time to go, you had been compromised, and Potions would be starting soon.

It was your belief that you could only get so close because of intent, that's what the Whomping Willow saw in each student. It was magical after all, and you were sure that it wasn't only here to threaten student's lives, but protect them as well. It hadn't been your intent to hurt the tree when you ran towards it unknowingly, you didn't come to mock or prove your strength as a challenge with it, it was a mistake. The Willow must've seen that, or else you wouldn't be there.

"You think it broke?"

"A tree can't just break, you git."

A clock began to methodically chime and your eyes were drawn to the castle of a school. Lunch was over now and passing period was just beginning.

The boys began to turn around and walk, just as a branch extended and pushed the Ravenclaw down before retracting. It left a hint of a smile on your face as you collected your books thrown to the side and followed their trail to the school, listening to the Ravenclaw's complaints.

When reaching the school the two had turned down their own hall and you continued towards the dungeons, regretting not dropping off your charms book in your dorm before the class had started. It was feeling heavy and you were already late, you could tell as an owl squawked at you from the side of the hall and a sneer from an old painting.

Slipping through the wooden doors, the class turned and stared for a short time before realizing it was only you. Slughorn met your eyes but continued to teach his lesson at the front, prepping the class for their potions. You scanned the room quickly for an empty seat, to which you only found one at the front of the room next to Sirius Black.

He had been moved there from almost the second that first term started, too much noise was made in the back with his mates, Peter and James, and now they were all scattered throughout the room permanently. James was also in the first row, just on the complete opposite side, and Peter sat in the back.

You really had nothing against Sirius, but you didn't know what to expect when you slid into the stool next to him. He looked at you silently, eyes dropping down to your robes almost immediately. Making assumptions, you were sure. Not only because of your y/h colors, but from the small dirt stains from the tree and ground you had been up against a few minutes prior.

Slughorn's speech ended and you caught on to what he was saying, enough to know what precautions to take. You knew what to do with the help of your textbook, flipping to the right page slowly but surely as the other students grabbed their ingredients. Sirius stayed and scrubbed his cauldron without a word.

There was a tall figure shadowing you slightly, and you turned to see the disappointing expression on your Professor's face.

"This isn't the first time you've been late to my class, miss y/l/n," He chastised, "This calls for another detention."

"I know, Professor. See you on Friday," You gave him a thin-lipped smile. It annoyed him, his only response was a sigh and a shake of his head as he walked off.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he set his scrub brush down on the table, "You know, if you stopped being so late, I reckon you could get out of these detentions."

You looked at him in slight disbelief, you really had expected him to ignore it, and now here he was giving you advice just to poke fun? "Pardon me?"

"Where do you run off to anyway?" He leaned forward, resting his head in the palm of his hand. "Shrieking Shack? Black Lake?"

What you had mistaken for arrogance was him trying to be funny, you realized, and it worked as you smiled and shook your head. "I would reckon so if I had gone mad. You realize none of this is your business, yeah?"

"I want it to be."

You rolled your eyes and stood up from your stool, off to grab the ingredients. "Only in your dreams, Black."

He continued to stare down the back of your head as you tucked glass jars in the space between your arms and your chest, clutching them. Until his head was pushed forward, he was so unprepared he almost hit the rim of the cauldron. He turned behind him to see Peter and James giggling as they rushed to their seats, and just as he rose from his seat with a determined and mischievous glare he was shot down.

"Mr. Black!"

The school hours had ended not long ago, and instead of books and quills in your possession, now all that you had was a letter stuffed in it's envelope. As you looked down at it, weaving it between your fingers, you realized just how bad your hands were shaking with nerves.

Your quest was to the Owlrey, the time it took to get there was tiring, especially with the steep path once you got to the rocky hill the tower was on. Trips were taken before and at first you had believed they would get easier, but they never did, the path only became memorized.

On your way you stepped past a pile of well-past brown leaves absentmindedly as you flipped over the letter and looked at it's dedication. The y/l/n's.

Behind you, you heard the crunch of fallen leaves and a few sticks tucked under the pile and you froze where you stood, looking behind you but you could see nothing past the curve on the spiral trail. Holding your breath, you could hear the sounds of heavy footsteps getting closer.

You slinked behind a boulder on the side of the hill, keeping your back pressed up against it as you waited for the student to pass. It was more than likely they didn't know you were here, either, and just on their way to deliver a letter of some sort. You remained curious, nevertheless.

Their steps became clearer and you waited, becoming more nervous than you knew you needed to be. A building anticipation as you began to pray to dear Merlin it wasn't Malfoy or Snape, but then you figured Malfoy was far too stuck up to get his hands dirty with a mere owl. He'd have one of his followers do the work for him, which was much less threatening.

A figure passed and for a second you swore it was Snape, first recognizing the long, jet black hair. But this student's was more free rather than slicked back and looking like it was glued to his head. Their hands were stuck in their pockets and they kept their eyes up, looking at the sky. You were able to catch their features, as well as the Gryffindor house colors on his tie.

An overdramatic, but playful sigh left your lips and your arms fell to your sides, "Are you serious?"

You surprised him, you could tell as he turned around and had his eyebrows pulled together in confusion for a short second, just before it turned into one of pride as a cheeky smirk took over, hoping you wouldn't notice that you caught him off guard. You knew you did.

"'Fraid so, darling. You waiting up for me?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow and walked down to where you were, still up against a rock. The steepness of the hill only made him taller than he already was, towering over you.

"More of catching my stalker," You corrected.

"You're hiding behind a boulder."

"You're following me up a mountain."

His mouth fell open as he failed to come up with a rebuttal to defend his actions, and it was your turn to smirk as you bumped your shoulder with his and continued on the trail. He was quick to turn around and follow your actions once again, slowing down when he reached your side.

Sirius kept his eyes on you, and then they fell to the letter in your hands that you kept on the opposite side of you, almost as if you were hiding it from him.

"Don't see why you're suddenly so curious to know of my whereabouts outside of class," You told him, enough courage filling your chest to ask such a question outright.

He cocked his head, "We've developed a rapport, wouldn't you say? Enough for me to feel free to irritate you as much as I please."

Scoffing, you shook your head and looked down at the yellowing grass. It was pushed down from all the times students, like yourself, had walked on it. At one point in time you had questioned why Hogwarts hadn't replaced it with stones, and then you realized the steepness of the hill was enough of a trek, rocks would just act as marbles.

"And I'm interested in you."

"Interested?" You echoed, you hadn't spoken much with Sirius, and told yourself there was no way he could catch feelings this soon. That day marked the first time you had spoken to him in class as well as out of it.

"Of course, it's not a everyday you meet someone as mysterious and secretive as you, love."

You exhaled relief. He was just curious. The two of you finally met the Owlrey structure, stepping on to the smooth concrete with scattered feathers all around, some still falling from the birds in the sky.

"I wouldn't say I'm mysterious, but I do like my privacy," You playfully glared at him as you walked backwards through the open doorway just to face him.

It was much darker inside even with the open spaces for the owls to get in and out, there was no definite life source other than the sun which was currently covered by dull clouds. Unlike outside, feathers here were grouped together and piled high, but swept out of the way for some space to walk. Owls sat in their respective spaces and watched the two look up and marvel at the building.

You searched for your own, Jives. He had a particular brown spot covering his left wing and a white line that swirled on his stomach. It was hard to miss.

Silence took over the two of you, only listening to the flutter and hoots of the owls around you. Sirius watched as you looked up and brought two fingers to your lips, a loud whistle echoing off the concrete.

Jives peeked his head out of where he was perched in one of the compartments, swooping down and landing on one of the sills at eye level. His head tilted as he watched you step over a pile of feathers and approached him, you stroked his feathers as you whispered the address to him.

Sirius waited patiently, body up against a pillar next to an owl that he shared a glance with, and then a shrug. When he looked at you again, your owl had taken off and you rested your head in your arms as you watched him go.

"Pen pal?" He questioned as he sauntered up beside you, mimicking your stance as he looked up at the sky. The birds circled and perched themselves on the roof of the Owlrey, their feathers floating down slowly but surely just out of your reach.

"Parents," You corrected him.

He hummed. For a second he didn't say anything. "What's it about?"

You whipped your head to him with raised eyebrows, "You saying it's not normal to write your parents?"

"Not for me." You rolled your eyes, turning around and beginning to leave the building. He followed you out the doors, stepping over the feathers. "Why so secretive? Planning to take over the school? You a death eater? Madly in love with Inverse Pinocchio?"

You couldn't stop the laughter that bubbles in your throat as you shook your head. "All of the above."

He laughed as well, catching up beside you. "I don't suppose you'll be letting up any time soon."

"You're getting better at this."

[janelevy]

a witch in the woods (reesker)

@homeschooledbookfanatic requested “you owe me a kiss” + ava bekker. i know it came from a fluffy prompt list, but... this veered away from that a little!

summary: sarah has travelled a long way and after hearing unsettling rumors of an evil old hag living in the woods, she has no choice but to venture into danger and uncertainty. however, this witch turns out not to be what she imagined.

(so this is what happens when i get too carried away! this is meant to take place in some otherworld of the past, and world building is fun, lol. i guess this became super long to make up for my lack of reesker content? oops!)

When Sarah decided to stop and take a load off in the small village, she only planned to stay for a day, maybe two. She didn’t have time to hang around for too long, because each second that ticked by was another second for her little brothers to grow sicker.

She was exhausted, though, so she purchased one night’s stay at a shabby little inn on the corner of the main drag through town. When the front desk clerk told her the price, Sarah bit her tongue and poured nearly all the gold coins she was carrying out of their worn leather pouch onto the wooden desk. She counted out the correct amount and nudged the pile to the clerk, who in turn handed her an aged brass key with a corresponding room number engraved in it.

With a quiet “thank you,” Sarah turned away, heaved her knapsack higher up her shoulder, and began to climb up the creaky stairs. She took her time wandering down the second floor corridor to her room, which was situated all the way at the end of the hall to her left. This wasn’t a big place, but the hallway seemed endless with all its shadowy nooks and crannies. She peered around cautiously from the splintering oak floors to the cobweb-crusted door frames and decided she wouldn’t waste her time getting out of here in the morning.

Once she was in her room, Sarah shouldered off her bag and rested on a wobbly little nightstand. A dusty lamp perched precariously near the edge of the small table, and she pushed it closer to the center because just looking at it made her nervous. Then she slipped her hood off her head, took off her cloak, and kicked off her shoes. That was all she could manage to do before she fell into bed. The mattress seemed alive and pulsing beneath her, whining at every tiny movement Sarah made, so she slept restlessly. Still, she kept her eyes squeezed shut and stayed there until morning light crept in through the heavy, dust-caked window shades.

Hours later she sat up and squinted at the clock on the wall; it read a quarter after eight, though that seemed a little fast because the sunlight was only just gathering outside. Sarah was ready to leave, however. She felt like her lungs were lined with cobwebs now after breathing in this musty air all night. Quietly she gathered her meager belongings, swept her hair back into the hood of her cloak, and took her leave.

She was walking out the door after returning her key when her stomach rumbled. Of course. She had completely forgotten about breakfast... and last night’s dinner... and yesterday’s lunch. She was so distracted these days, so focused on just getting home. Maybe this explained why she felt so nauseous and shaky lately.

Instead of turning left out of town, Sarah turned right, back the way she had come in yesterday. She walked slowly, the rubbed-off toes of her boots scuffing the bumpy cobblestone street, and scanned over various storefronts and homes looking for a place to eat. After nearly ten minutes of searching, she found a tiny cafe nestled between a bustling general store and a wide alleyway. 

Sarah stepped inside and was immediately met with a blast of coffee-scented warmth that greeted her with a hug like an old friend. She exhaled, gripping her hood tightly under her chin as she wove between the crowded round tables. All around her was conversational chatter, the clinking of mugs, and the sound of chairs scraping the scarred wood floor. The noise was a bit overwhelming, so she tried to drown it out by holding her hood as tightly as possible around her face. 

She approached the front, where a straightforward menu was chalked onto the black painted surface of the counter. She was able to make out the blurry words “COFFEE ..... 5ȼ” and “BISCUITS ..... 2 FOR 15ȼ” between smudges, smears, and spills. Sarah smiled at the woman behind the counter and ordered those items before handing over the money.

A few minutes later, with a cup of black coffee and a cloth packed with warm, freshly-baked biscuits in her hands, she made her way over to a relatively private table in a corner and began eating quickly because there was no time to waste.

The entire time there Sarah kept to herself, but let her ears stay open to nearby conversations. She adored novels, but more than anything else, Sarah liked to listen to people for news rather than read words from a grimy newspaper page. It was the method she had adopted since beginning her travels, and she had managed to keep up with general events ever since.

The closest person to her was a middle-aged man who sat slouched in his chair with a newspaper spread wide in his hands. He shifted his spectacles up his nose and didn’t look up until another man who Sarah presumed to be his companion took the seat across from him.

“Lemme guess, you’re reading the story ‘bout that old hag in the woods,” the other man said as he wiped at his bushy mustache.

“It’s been reprinted day after day for weeks now, it’s difficult to avoid it,” his friend replied. He shook his head grimly and closed the paper, setting it on the table. “I can’t believe another innocent girl was lured in by dark magic. It’s the Devil’s work, I tell you.”

The mustached man sneered. “What I think they should do is send out a party to get rid of that vile woman once and for all. Shoot her dead, twist her neck ‘til it snaps, I don’t care. She’s old and ugly, won’t hurt her. Only then she’ll stop stealing our girls away.”

Sarah inwardly winced and stopped listening, focusing instead on finishing off her second biscuit. So, great, there was apparently a wicked witch hiding out in the woods, and Sarah’s planned route took her straight through the forest. There had to be a way to avoid this, right?

After finishing her food and drink, she returned to the front counter to drop off her empty mug. “Thank you,” she said again to the woman who was dusting off her apron and barely paying Sarah any attention. “Um, before I go, I wanted to know if you could help me?”

Just asking an out-of-the-ordinary question was making Sarah’s stomach flip over and over, but she knew it was better to be safe than sorry. The woman looked at her expectantly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been travelling quite a distance, and my next projected path leads me through the woods, but... I was curious if there is any way to avoid that, perhaps an alternate route...?”

The woman nodded, her face drawn and serious. “Oh, yes, you most definitely don’t want to enter the woods. You’re certain to run into that evil old witch.”

When she didn’t add anything to that, Sarah blinked and asked again, “I understand, but is there any other path I can follow that won’t lead me into that risk?”

The stranger’s response to that was a hearty laugh, and Sarah cringed and leaned away. “Oh, dear!” she said, grasping her chest. “You think there’s a way around all those trees and shadows? No! Of course there’s not.” She took a few seconds to calm down and regain her composure. It was then she said, “It’s better for you to either turn around or stay here.” She smiled, and Sarah’s skin crawled. The coffee in her stomach went cold. “There’s a reason they named this town Dead End, dear.”

Unsure how to absorb this, Sarah muttered out a rushed thank you and would’ve sprinted out of there if it weren’t for all the tables and people. Once she emerged back onto the street, she took a moment to catch her breath and think.

In the end, though, there really was no decision to be made; she knew what she had to do if she wanted to see her brothers and heal them. Sarah walked up to the edge of the woods, peered into its selection of shadows and secrets, then took the plunge.

Sarah moved briskly through the trees for about an hour, holding her compass steady in front of her the entire time. Half-rotted leaves crunched under her feet, rusted remnants of last autumn. Her surroundings were filled with endless undergrowth, twisted vines dotted with thorns, and skeletal branches rustling high above her head. She was grateful she got an early start, because this was not a place she would want to be at nightfall.

It was only when she stopped for a minute-long break when she felt that icy unease creep into her bloodstream. She had parked herself on a moss-covered boulder and was staying alert to what was around her, and she was alert enough to notice a small hut in the distance.

Instantly Sarah knew what that place must be, and right away she stood up and continued on. Then, with horror, she realized that her compass was pointing in the exact direction of the house. She gulped and shuddered; if she tried to make a wide detour around the structure, she didn’t trust herself not to get disoriented and lose her way.

And so, Sarah steeled herself and marched towards it, almost completely silent save for the leaves below her boots.

As she got closer to the house, she noticed how in shambles it was, and hoped for a split second that maybe it was uninhabited, because it sure looked that way. But hadn’t those men in the cafe mentioned the witch stealing another girl just recently? Sarah bit her lip and kept her distance just to be sure. She stared straight ahead and was so intent on getting past the house that she failed to notice the thinly-veiled trapdoor that would lead her right into it.

When Sarah awoke, she felt warm again. She peeled open her sleep-crusted eyes and groaned, noticing a heavy woolen blanket placed over her. She turned her head and noticed her knapsack hanging from a convenient hook in the wall, her cloak tucked under it. It took another minute for her to fully come to, and in that minute the panic set in and built up its strength.

Keeping quiet since she wasn’t sure of her captor’s current whereabouts, Sarah sat up in the cot and looked around. The window across the room only showed forest outside with a bright afternoon sky - damn, how many hours had she laid here? How many hours had been wasted? And she had a feeling she knew the exact place she was in, if her last memory served her right.

She knew she had to get out. It was just a matter of how. Holding her breath because even the slightest whistle could alert the old hag, Sarah slid her legs off the side of the bed and dragged her boots over. She only managed to get one of them on before she was interrupted.

“If you’re planning on leaving so soon, then at least give me time to brew you your next dose.”

A young woman came into Sarah’s view from around the corner. She wore a silvery gray gown that billowed gracefully around her bare feet; the plainness of her clothes contrasted with the brilliance of her looks. She tucked a wavy strand of caramel-colored hair behind her ear, which also had a quill pen propped behind it. Sarah stared into a set of unnervingly captivating hazel eyes and felt her heart rate spike with alarm.

“Dose?” she demanded in a hoarse voice that didn’t sound like her own. “What... what did you give me?”

Sarah could only assume that this beautiful stranger was the witch’s servant, or maybe one of the girls she had lured here. But she doubted it was the latter, because this woman seemed to know her way around the place. The servant leafed through a book with yellowed pages as she answered. “Just something to ease the pain in your head. You took quite a tumble.” She turned another page, then another, as Sarah watched. She couldn’t place the woman’s accent, but it was alluring nonetheless. Smooth and deep like the cup of black coffee she drank earlier.

“I took a tumble be- because of the trap your friend set,” Sarah said. She was too achy and taken aback to be angry.

The stranger froze and fixed her gaze on Sarah again. “My friend?”

“Yes, your friend! Or master, or whatever you call it.”

A smirk began to tug at the woman’s lips, and it got under Sarah’s skin way too easily. “Is that so? And who is this you’re speaking of?”

“The witch,” Sarah said, exasperated. “The witch everyone in that town has been talking about.”

“That town? Oh, you mean Dead End.” There was a chuckle, the kind that made Sarah think of nice things. “Everyone there is a little strange, Sarah.”

Sarah’s face fell even more. “How do you know my name?”

“How don’t you know mine?” the woman countered, gliding over to her like a skater on ice. “Since I’ve been such a popular subject over there.”

Her hands were feather light as they touched Sarah’s face. Fingers grazed over her jawbone, chin, forehead. Somehow she had the firm press of a doctor’s hands while also staying so gentle that Sarah didn’t want to shy away. After a minute she mumbled, “So you’re telling me you’re the witch.”

The pale brown eyes that had been evaluating Sarah’s face now pulled back and were paired with a charming smile. “Of course I am. Though after most people spend awhile here in my home, they start to call me Ava.” She remained crouched before Sarah a few moments more, then straightened and returned to paging through her book of... spells? Potions and magical elixirs? “Anyway,” Ava said, “if you would just allow me to prepare another dose of the painkiller, you can be on your way soon. I do apologize for the trapdoor; it’s old and I had completely forgotten about it. Usually people simply walk up to my front door or avoid my home altogether.”

Sarah nodded, and with permission granted Ava started to gather ingredients. She sat there cross-legged on the cot observing Ava’s tender, calculated work, and was a little too dumbfounded to speak. How had those townspeople gotten it so wrong? There was still one issue left unsolved, however, and it took her a while to draw up the courage to ask about it.

“I don’t understand. The villagers were talking about girls you lure to your ‘lair.’ They don’t just... fall through the trapdoor, then you fix them up and send them off?”

Ava stirred the pot and hummed in amusement. The steam coming off the soupy mixture caused a light flush that traveled down from her cheeks and settled in her chest. Sarah was positively entranced by her.

“I’m unsure where they got that idea from. I’ve had a few girlfriends that have come out here to spend time with me.”

“You make them come all the way out here?”

Ava ladled some of the brew into a glass jar and secured a lid on it. She walked back over to Sarah and sat beside her. “I prefer my solitude out here in the woods,” she told her, turning the jar over in her youthful yet calloused hands. There was a pause during which they gazed at each other, then Ava killed it by shoving the potion into Sarah’s arms. “Well, here it is. I won’t keep you any longer now.” She hesitated again, and Sarah didn’t stop her when a few weightless fingers stroked through her curls. Was she imagining Ava leaning in towards her?

But then Ava stopped and hopped up, feverishly wiping her hands on her dress. “I’ll see you out. I- I know you’re a medic, you need to get home to your brothers.”

Sarah swallowed and placed the jar inside her bag, then threw it onto her shoulder after sliding her cloak back on. She suddenly felt like her medical knowledge was worthless compared to the vast encyclopedia of healing methods she knew must be in Ava’s head. She figured she must have a vicious headache from her fall, yet she still felt not even a twinge from it. She had never known such a phenomenon was possible. Ava came straight out of the fairytales Sarah’s mother used to read to her before bed.

She could pick up on Ava’s restlessness, though, so she followed her to the door. Then she asked, “What do I owe you for this medicine?”

Ava halted and turned back to her. “Nothing, I suppose.”

“No, I... I insist.” Sarah started to dig through her knapsack. “I have coins--”

“No, please.” That made her drop everything and glance back up at Ava’s angel-carved face. Silence wrapped around them, and Ava seemed to wait until it became suffocating before she murmured, “What if I say you owe me a kiss?”

Sarah felt like she could swallow her own tongue whole, but that wouldn’t do her any good here. She calmed her trembling heart and all she could muster was a nod. Again Ava leaned in to her and this time successfully captured Sarah’s lips onto her own, holding her close for a long while. Sarah breathed her in, inhaling all of Ava’s sweet scent of lilac until every last drop was sucked away, because she wanted to remember her forever.

Sarah made it five minutes into the woods before she gave in to herself and turned around to go back. She needed more of Ava, more of something that she couldn’t quite grasp.

She walked and she walked and she was sure she should’ve come across the little hut a hundred times by now. Sarah spun around again, one eye on her compass, and came to a stop surrounded by the same old bushes and leaves and branches. Her gaze fluttered down to the bald earth below her feet. It seemed too firmly packed and smoothed over to not be manmade, yet there was no sign of life around her except for - 

She knelt down and picked up the one object that caught her eye: an old quill pen covered in dust, as if it hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Sarah thought she had seen the feather tucked behind an ear mere minutes ago. She stood up, slipped it into her pocket, and thought maybe she was mistaken.