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starryserenade · 2 years ago

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Sunflower: A Kingdom Hearts Story

(I'm SO sorry for posting this like a bajillion times, it's so old that I forgot which version was the final version whoops. This SHOULD be right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go cry for being such an embarrassing mess) Fic Description: In a field of dandelions, a sunflower points the way to the light

Notes: I lost track of what lore is considered canon in KH, especially in terms of newer introductions like the foretellers, so some things may not make complete sense. That said, this is a set in a world created based on a lot of interesting hints and details that all became dead ends (as far as I'm aware). Seeks to give Mickey a more interesting and meaningful role in the world of Kingdom Hearts.

Dug this back up from the depths of the computer after getting an ask from an Anon (thanks for reminding me it exists). I'd forgotten it almost entirely. Literally didn't even know what to write for the description, so have that fun little sentence that was the first thing that popped into my brain.

Enjoy! haha

AO3

~~~

“Why do ya call them Dandelions?”

“Because,” The mysterious wielder giggled and knelt beside the young boy. “They are all my secret wishes, the seeds I hope to plant for a world I cannot yet see.”

The little mouse tilted his head, staring thoughtfully at her face with curious eyes that twinkled in the way only children’s do.

“And why d’ya want me?”

On these words she stayed silent for some time and her eyes drifted past him to the figure standing just behind, a single lantern swaying in their grip. They exchanged silent nods and she turned back to the child, smiling softly.

“Even dandelions cannot persist alone in the dark. They need the sun to give them strength, and its light to guide them home.”

“I…don’t understand…”

“Little sunflower, I need you to point the way.”

~~~

He stood on the brink of dark and dawn. To his back lay a sky littered with stars, the whispers of daybreak lingering about them in clouds of pink and blue. There was a warmth to their shine, but it was fragile, like the flame of a match flickering in a midnight breeze.

But before him sprawled a sea of shadow, endless and unwavering. It met with the dawn in a violent clash, nipping at the barrier between and lashing out at every bright flicker that managed to get too close.

Mickey had cemented himself on the side of the light, as had the others, though he was so close to the border that his shadow fell to the realm beyond. He sucked in a shaky breath as he looked out at the world before him and did his best to cling to his keyblade. It wasn’t easy. A deep gash scarred his shoulder, a recent wound, and every inch of his body screamed and pleaded with him to give into oblivion.

No, not yet, he scolded himself with what little awareness remained. Every other bit of thought was focused on scanning the would-be battlefield for the thing he was sure would be his end. Then it was there. From deep in the shadows, two eyes blinked open, glowing a deep, bloody red, and Mickey swallowed, resigning himself to the inevitability of what was to come. It was over. His blood went cold at the thought and he realized, abruptly and with a curl of his tail, that these were the last moments he would share with the ones beside him.

After hours of standing his ground, he now took a step back.

~~~

“I wanna go with ‘em!” squealed the boy, and he scrambled to join the keyblade wielders he’d seen rushing outside his window.

“Hm?..Oh!” Ava leapt from her place and darted to the door, blocking the curious child’s path. “Ah ah ah!” She wagged her finger playfully, laughing as she always did, even as he pouted. “You know you have to stay here!”

“But why?” he groaned, ears drooping. Then his tail twitched, and his voice got soft. “It’s so lonely.”

Her smile faltered for only a moment before it was replaced by a sunny grin. “I know, but it won’t be forever, I promise!” she assured him cheerfully. “Right now, we all have our roles…and theirs is just a little bit different than yours.” A wind swept past the window, carrying with it a graceful stream of dandelions, and she let out a quiet breath. “I know how that feels, believe me.”

She bit her lip even as she spoke the words.

The boy’s eyes fell to the floor and he shuffled his feet. “I miss Papa…when can I go home?”

Ava didn’t know what to say to that. Soon? After the war?

…Never?

An answer evaded her.

So she kneeled before him and smiled softly. “Why don’t you show me that new story you were talking about? The one about the curious girl and her silly rabbit.”

It worked. He lifted his head and grinned, eyes sparkling as he grabbed her hand and yanked her towards a desk very much his size, where a book sat glittering in the windowlight. Cheerfully he flung it open and golden beams spilled from its pages.

Ava grinned as a new world took form around them, built piece by piece from those same ribbons of light. It unfolded at first like the pages of a book, but then the edges softened and the words beneath their feet vanished until this world of make believe was indistinguishable from reality.

And as Mickey led her forward through a flourish of colorful foliage, chattering on about grinning cats and hatters and talking caterpillars (of which Ava could not begin to imagine how they might all connect), she began to realize that he truly knew nothing of his purpose. To him, this was all a playful game of dream and fantasy, imaginary worlds to pass the lonely days by.

How might the nature of these worlds change, she wondered, if he knew of the weight they held? Would their bright and childish nature take on a darker hue?

No, they won’t. I’m certain of it, she thought silently as she watched him dart back and forth between every curious little thing that caught his eye. He could not have understood that these stories, these tales born from his own imagination, were so much more than that, were the very hope for the world to come. But right here, right now, that didn’t matter. He was a child and his heart was bright, and that was all the light needed to survive. She had faith in that.

Be brave, my little sunflower. We need you.

~~~

Starlight thrummed behind him and pulsed through his heart, reminding him of what remained to protect. The worlds sung. They were endless wishes, hushed and nearly lost, but all that kept him from running, all that gave him the strength to keep his keyblade in hand. For with each step, the scarlet eyes grew brighter. A deep growl like passing thunder echoed across the realm, leaving ripples in the skylit surface beneath Mickey’s feet. With it, five more pairs of eyes blinked open in the dark, each a different color, every one just as menacing as the next.

The leader padded into view, an admittedly stunning white lion with a silvery mane. Its paws were larger than Mickey as a whole, and the mouse shuddered to think what just one swipe of those claws would do to his body.

The other creatures soon joined the lion, bearing the forms of a bear, unicorn, snake, leopard, and scorpion. Their forms were not like usual animals in the least; if anything, they were far more spectacular. Designs lay scrawled and shimmering across their pelts, their bodies glowing with light. Their appearance could be described as no less than otherworldly, and Mickey could liken them only to the spirits he had seen in his dreams. But even then, they outshone any he could remember.

But he knew now that the light was a falsity, a guise conjured which exemplified their pride in the form of something lovely and deceiving.

He would not be deceived again.

“We need Sora…”

The small voice beside him derailed his train of thought and he looked up to find Kairi, hands held to her chest.

Mickey’s heart sunk. She was right. The boy had always been there before. Each and every time things had looked their bleakest, he had appeared at just the right moment, ready and willing to defy all the odds.

Not this time.

But still...

“He is here,” Mickey said after a moment, defying every fearful bone in his body as he forced himself to smile. The other five Lights looked at him in surprise, and he did his best to hide the tears welling in his eyes. “Awe gosh….don’t tell me ya don’t feel it too. That’s what made Sora so special, isn’t it? That no matter where we were, we could always feel his heart shinin’ right there beside us. So maybe…maybe we can’t see him, but I know that somewhere out there he’s cheerin’ us on.” Kairi laughed, a sad, quiet laugh, as he took her hand and grinned, then turned to look over the others. Riku’s expression, dark from fear, anger, and grief, now softened and as Mickey continued, he nodded quietly. The mouse wasn’t sure how much he believed what he was saying anymore, but did it really matter? If this was their last stand, he was darn well certain it wouldn’t be spent lightly. A new fire, new hope, burned in his eyes as he spoke. “No matter how far, the light will connect our hearts. If there’s any time to believe that then gosh, I’d say it’s now.”

As he spoke, the creatures’ shimmering forms began to shift, melting away to prepare for another, more human likeness. “Foretellers” is what they’d called themselves. They continued to walk forward as this change took place, the masks of their animals hiding their eyes. All but their leader, the lion, were dressed in brightly colored garb. Only he wore the cloak that Mickey and his allies had come to know the Organization by, though he was certainly not one of them.

The Lights watched them even as they listened to Mickey speak. It seemed his words, and seeing the Foretellers for what they were—human—was enough to give them the courage they needed. Kairi grasped Mickey’s hand and squeezed it, sparking a chain amongst the others from Mickey to Riku to Aqua to Ventus and then, finally, to Axel. And for a single, brief, moment they all stood hand in hand.

“For Sora,” Riku growled at last.

“For Sora!”

They released hands, summoned their blades, and rushed forward. From somewhere within the darkness, a bell began to toll.

~~~

She stumbled through her doorway, clutching her side and gasping for every breath. How could she have been so blind? She had sought after Luxu to prevent the war, to save these innocent children from the dark fate that awaited them. And yet in her heart she felt that their encounter had been the spark of it all. The events she had dreaded so were finally coming to pass.

Their only hope now was to prepare for the future.

“Mickey!” she called to her charge, wincing as she tripped over herself and knocked into one of the desks in the room. Sweat dripped beneath her mask and her face was pale with pain. “M-Mickey!”

Her brain was swarming and it took her several moments to realize there had been no answer.

She straightened abruptly.

“Mickey? Mickey!” Her calls quickly became more desperate, and she forced herself to brace against the pain and search every corner of the chambers. But try as she might, the child was nowhere to be found.

Oh no…

Her pain vanished, replaced by a chilled panic, and she bolted out the door.

The battlefield was already littered with fallen blades when she arrived and upon finding herself in the heart of it all, she froze for just a moment. It was worse than she’d feared. The wielders—no, the children who had once laughed and played with one another now fought bitterly, without regard for the hearts of their friends. Kingdom Hearts loomed above the badlands, dark and swollen.

But the luxury of grief could not last long for her. Standing out as an opposing Foreteller among the crowds of younger wielders, she quickly became their target and was forced to fend off countless blows.

“Look at what you’re doing! This isn’t right!” she shouted to them, though it made little difference. Persistence was something the other leaders had obviously drilled into them a little too much. And although their attacks were hardly difficult for Ava to block or avoid, she loathed seeing the anger and hatred burning in their eyes.

The ranks began to thin, and Ava had not spotted the mouse. A sick feeling sat in her stomach. He had yet to summon a keyblade, and heaven knew she had hardly taught him to fight on his own. He was younger than the others. Younger and smaller, and far too innocent for the battlefield. And…

And then she saw him.

Several yards away he streaked past, a bright blue blade gleaming in his grip. Ava gasped, first relieved to find him alive, but then shocked and almost frightened to see him wielding a weapon of his own. Surely a heart such as his, so young and untainted, could not be part of this carnage.

The battlefield was still filled to the brim with wielders, and Mickey quickly disappeared from her line of sight. She caught only glimpses as she navigated the conflict, deflecting blades as best she could without harming their owners as she ran. It was no easy task and she found herself locked in battle with several determined souls. But she managed to break away and, spotting a small figure darting through the crowd, raced towards it. For a single moment, she was granted a clear view of her charge. But her heart caught in her throat when she saw him race straight towards a fallen wielder, his keyblade raised as if ready to deal a final blow.

She opened her mouth to shout at him, moved to try to stop him. But then he dropped to his knees, blade and hands bathed in the verdant light of healing magic, and she stopped, watching as the other wielder took a shuddering breath that steadied beneath the spell. The little mouse offered a hand, grinning from ear to ear as his new ally took it, then he pointed off into the distance before running off to yet another weakened soul.

He quickly faded from sight but Ava breathed a shaky sigh of relief, even as she too was swept away by the remaining skirmishes.

A light to guide them home… she thought, recalling her own words. How he had learned to summon his blade, how he had even learned of the war, she knew not. But here he was, younger and smaller than any other, healing every fading heart he could find. Ava could not have been more proud.

Only several moments later and the wielders’ ranks had thinned. Several more, and there were hardly any left. And then suddenly, in a swift rush of air, the world was all but empty.

It was over.

Almost.

An eerie cloud of dust lay over the battlefield, heightening the silence that already persisted across the near-empty world. “Mickey!” she called. She was certain he still remained, in her heart she could sense his light. And to her relief, his silhouette soon appeared within the haze. She ran forward and opened her mouth to call his name once more, only to stop dead in her tracks as a second figure appeared just behind him.

“Invi…” Ava whispered, eyes widening as the fellow foreteller became clear. The point of her keyblade was held to the child’s back, and he stumbled timidly forward, confusion and fear masking his face. “Invi, what are you doing?”

“Fulfilling my role,” the woman hissed. There was pain in her voice, and a deep anger. “I trusted you, Ava. We all did. I believed you when you told me the Master had commanded you to gather those wielders from our unions…but that was a lie, wasn’t it? How could you lead your own union to safety and leave the others to perish here?!”

Ava’s breath hitched in her throat. The dust had begun to clear and the gleam of thousands upon thousands of fallen keyblades shone in the darkened light of Kingdom Hearts. “I didn’t lie,” she breathed. “And my Dandelions are from all unions, not just Vulpes. You know that.”

“But I didn’t know about him.” Invi prodded Mickey with her blade and he let out a frightened whimper, tail lashing behind him. “Not at first. But I’ve been watching. He’s connected to the Keeper, isn’t he? Meaning he has a power unlike any other, and you hid it for a reason. You wanted to keep it all to yourself.”

“No! That’s not—”

“Don’t deny it!” The fury that burst from Invi’s mouth was so venomous, so filled with rage, that Ava found herself unable to speak. “The Master forbid us to so much as speak to the Keeper! But you hid his child away, using him to create perfect little worlds of your own. You say the Master told you to do this? Well, the Master tasked me with keeping peace between all our unions. And he-“ She glared at the little mouse. “-represents nothing but imbalance!”

Ava could sense the energy beginning to flow between Invi and her blade, and she gasped as she summoned her own. “Invi, you can’t! He’s done nothing wrong, he’s just a child!”

“So were they!” Invi screeched, flinging her free hand towards the keyblades surrounding them.

“Master Ava…” Mickey’s terrified whisper caught her attention and she glanced at him.

“Invi, please…don’t do this.” The words came hoarsely, trembling and clumsy. She knew she wouldn’t be faster than her counterpart. She wouldn’t be able to save him. “Just let me explain..”

Invi trembled, the poise and grace so often donning her persona having vanished. She was angry and heartbroken and betrayed. For once, emotion ruled her entirely. Kingdom Hearts’ now-dark form glinted on the silver of her mask.

“You say the Dandelions were your role to play? Well this…this is mine.”

#THIS SHOULD FINALLY BE THE RIGHT VERSION #AGH I AM SUCH A MESS #this is what happens when I'm too tired to fully proofread #StoriesComeAlive #kingdom hearts #mickey mouse #king mickey #ava #invi #foretellers #sora #kairi #riku #fanfiction

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valasania-the-pale · 2 years ago

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your turn for Galadriel pls hit me with your thoughts on your blorbiel <3

1: sexuality headcanon

Very bisexual. Perhaps even thought she was exclusively attracted to women before she really met Celeborn - it wasn't that she didn't find men physically desirable, the issue was that, as the 'Star of the Noldor' (or whatever else of the undoubtedly countless names the wordsmiths of Aman came up with for her), she had so many suitors vying for her hand, and was sick to death of them.

2: otp

Galadriel/Celeborn is ofc the endgame, but I do like to explore her early life as well, at which point I really have come to like Artanis/Luthien for the brief time before they realized they weren't for each other.

3: brotp

(whoops forgot to add this - I was jumping around)

Kinda depends on what point in her life - I think her social circles have been ravaged so often that there are definitive phases to who she was close to as friends.

Early on? Maedhros - while Artanis was the youngest, she still has major ‘Eldest sibling’ vibes, maybe because Ingoldo has a more free-spirited, younger vibe and I don’t have strong feelings about Angrod and Aegnor - and she and Maedhros bonded over that.They drifted apart over the course of the first age, and probably definitively broke with each other when the Second Kinslaying happened (locking eyes over a bloody field, feeling a bond severed, ugh).

Once their relationship plateaued into friendship, I think Luthien was probably her closest friend, each really happy when the other found true love. I think Luthien’s death hit her pretty hard, and she never really filled that void in her life after.

Once he really settled into Rivendell, Elrond definitely. He might be her son in law but he’s got that ‘Not quite Noldor but also not quite Sinda’ vibe that she shares, she’s used to dealing with whatever Feanorion AND Maiarin impulses/quirks he has. For Elrond’s part, I think he saw her as an amazing mentor which bloomed into a warm friendship in time.

4: notp

Sauron in whatever incarnation (ROP or otherwise) - I think Sauron would have tried pretty hard to seduce her in the Hollin years as Annatar, but it didn't work. She saw through his shit and he's lucky he had Celebrimbor to cover his ass.

Feanor/Artanis is something I've also seen on occasion that's a big nope - I think he saw her as an object more than a person at times and that's just a shitty dynamic. Frankly I think Feanor's advances for her hair have this implication to them that just feels icky in the canonical text, and I imagine he was a big factor in why she was so uninterested in a true relationship for so long.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

I headcanon her as having a few partners or crushes before she met Celeborn; after reading 'The Nolde: There and Back Again' I am very fond of the headcanon that her bisexual awakening was Arien - she essentially saw this Very Pretty maia who would one day become the Sun for her brilliance and was deer-in-the-headlights struck with the realization that 'Lady Pretty' (though it never came of anything).

After that, the fact that she spent so much time with Irisse in Aman (they had overlapping interests and there was a period before Irisse really set her heart to Tyelkormo) led to them essentially starting a 'friends with benefits' relationship to blow off steam and experiment.

And after that, the last one, she had a Thing with Luthien - both of them have a claim to the whole 'Fairest of their respective people' shtick and I think would have been able to connect over the experience of dealing with that.

I think Luthien would have been the one to initiate it (I headcanon Luthien as pretty bold and direct; her whole life is an exercise in testing and challenging her own boundaries, and it leaves her with a shifting idea of where others' are), and both would have found something in the other to draw them. Luthien, drawn to Artanis' sharpness and anger - that blade-like resolve that lets her look so many suitors in the eye and say 'please fuck off.' Luthien's always been the darling everyone's in love with; I think she'd have diffiulty saying the same.

And Artanis found Luthien's inner chill fascinating; her lack of a need to prove herself, to strive for the sake of others' image of her - Luthien and Melian both have an inner peace - a comfort with themselves and their plaec in the world - while still having power, and Artanis craved that until she had it herself.

And finally Celeborn - I think he was very jealous of the years Artanis and Luthien spent together (mostly because Luthien is bold and wasn't keen to hide it, and lowkey kinda taunted him about it - "Well if you want her so badly, do something about it!"), though not in any way where he'd be rude or try to interfere. When they finally ended things, Celeborn was super quick to directly state his intentions clearly and without artifice, and it was that - compared to so many times where the Wordsmiths and Poets and Courtiers had tried to use pretty words and flattery to get to Artanis' heart - that really made her see him as a potential partner.

Of course, Celeborn was good with words himself (he fucking named her what he did), but he knows when is a good time to be pretty and when is a good time to be direct and honest. He respected the hell out of her and would yield to her advice and wisdom as often as he'd check her when she overreached. His vibe was just right, and Artanis/Galadriel really quickly realized that This was working more than anything ever had before, and fell in love hard and fast.

6: favorite line from this character

Honestly so many of my favorite lines from her are more fanon than anything. However:

"I have passed the test. I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel."

This line of course strikes me for the many ways it can be interpreted - is it the test of the Valar, or is it her own, self-imposed trial? How does she know her ban has been lifted?

My favorite interpretation is that the test was her own, or else she perceives it as a test set by Eru, because frankly I've never seen her as someone who sets stock by the will of the Valar - she might respect them, but she's lived her life in defiance of their edicts. I don't even necessarily think she's saying that she'll sail, here - "I will diminish" may well be her accepting that she would properly Fade, however it would be on her terms.

I cordially dislike interpretations that say that her sailing to the west was by the sudden mercy and understanding of the Valar; it's a fair reading, but frankly, their decisions have never stopped her from doign what she wanted in the first place - I prefer the implicit threat she makes when she sails with Elrond and the ringbearers, "Stop me if you dare" - the ban isn't lifted, but will they truly stop her after all she's done for Middle Earth, after what she sacrificed, and with who she's with? I like to think the ban was lifted when she forced the matter, not that the Valar suddenly had mercy on this one, specific thing (rather than everything else she'd done up to that point - much of it good and wise).

7: one way in which I relate to this character

Galadriel has an anti-authoritarian, non-comformist vibe to her that I adore. She's going to live her best life, damn the Powers that Be who would say otherwise - I relate to that sentiment a lot because it's the thing that really caused me to break with religion, and it's how I interface with my queerness a lot as well, as an asexual who reads and writes a lot of smut and kink content.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

(Don'ttalkaboutringsofpowerdon'ttalkaboutringsofpowerdon'ttalk-)

Honestly I really don't like the shtick that PJ does with the 'All shall love me and despair' in the movies - I get what he was going for, and I think it's cool that they were drawing on the whole 'elf lords become fonts of power and light in their wrath' detail from the Silm, but I just don't read that scene in that way.

Her tone to me when she makes that speech is light, almost self-effacing, and her laugh afterwards is tired, exhausted even. She's lived so long in Middle Earth, the last of her generation sundered by war and internal strife. She didn't learn to refuse power because of some grand act of self-denial, she learned that power leads nowhere, that even the powerful will be slain and trodden into the mud when their time has called. It was a slow process of being ground down, nothing heroic.

Overall I just think it's way too melodramatic. Like, hell, poor Frodo, having to see that.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Absolutely problematic fave, it's why I love her.

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words-for-holland · 4 years ago

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Distractions

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N decide to work in the same room together. The problem...both of them get easily distracted and a whole lotta fluff comes with it.

A/N: Whoa its been awhile but here we are again! Thank you for 1,000+ followers it means the world! Surprises to come 😉

“Hello beautiful.” Tom greets Y/N with a cheeky smile on his face. He quickly pecks her soft cheek as he places his laptop across from his lovely girlfriend, who was currently focused on her work.

She takes a second to look up, returning his smile with a soft one. “Hey, good looking. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. Is it okay if I work here with you? I just want to be close to my girl.”Tom pouts.

Y/N’s heart could burst at the sight and reason he gave. An inaudible “aw” prolonging through her mind...until she quickly realized that there could be some complications with this as a slight frown starts to replace her dimpled smile. “Wait...are you sure?”, she asks. “Dont you have press interviews that require absolute silence? I doubt any of you will want to hear the constant typing in the background.”

“Yeah, your typing is horrendous with those lead heavy fingertips of yours.” Tom teases.

“Well these lead heavy fingertips aren’t leaving anytime soon, so youre probably better off working elsewhere.” She suggests, pointing off to the distance. Tom groans at the idea, using his one hand to put her finger down. He engulfs hers with his, lacing her fingers and holding on tightly.

“Noooo. Dont wanna be anywhere else. Please darling? ” He pouts once more.

She giggles at his plea, rolling her eyes. “Course you can, bubz.” Tom excitedly scoots his chair in as he rubs his hands together to prep for the work to come.

And work they did...for at least 10 minutes. Tom was getting antsy as he read through his next script. Occasionally his eyes would roll to the left, and observe Y/N as she continued to read through an article on her screen. Not that Tom didnt find his own work fun but he always found watching Y/N do her thing just a bit more interesting.

He hadn’t realized himself, but his body start to shift and lean more towards her. His arm extending to wrap her in, as it glided up and down in a steady motion. His thumb doodling hearts on her shoulder. Tom could tell it had an effect on Y/N, discreetly smirking to himself as he heard her audible shakey sigh.

He wanted to see what else could make her sigh like that, so instead of his thumb he used pointer and middle finger, running them up and down her shoulder. Tom could see the smile creeping on Y/N’s face and her little head shake. She knew what he was up to and yet, Y/N still wanted him to think that he was not gonna get her that easily. But God was it hard. Every touch felt like tiny fireworks against her skin, goosebumps forming all over her body with every touch. She to stay strong. No distractions.

Tom eyes perked up, at the action. He must go further, he thinks. Tom starts to trace his nose from her shoulder to her neck, leaving kisses at her jawline. “C’mon darling. Think its time for a break.”, he whispers in her ear.

She turns her head towards him as she smiles, leaving a quick kiss on Tom’s lips. “Its only been ten minutes.” She laughs. “Five if you want to count the distractions.”

He backs up, pretending to look appalled. “How dare you. I’ve been a good lad focusing on my script for the whole ten minutes.”

A playful glare formed on Y/N’s soft face which ultimately ended her up with a fit of giggles. She couldnt take him seriously, but then again she never did with anything. Tom has always said if they were kidnapped by a pair of robbers, her first reaction would be to laugh. As the laughter died down, Y/N paid her attention back to the screen which had been inactive during the playful banter and continued to type out those set of documents that she had been meaning to get to.

Tom on the other hand was still reading through his script, taking mental notes on how he was going to approach his character. This time he was completely engrossed in his work. His eyes moving left to right with every line he took in. Until...he felt something ticking his lower calves. Tom knew it was Y/N’s foot, by the way it brushed just as he had done with his hand on her shoulder. The movements never stopped, her legs now curling around his own. Y/N was trying to getting back at him, but one thing she always forgot was that Tom always wins.

Naturally he had to the same, and what once became a playful game of footsie, now ended up with Tom shifting Y/N to sit on his lap. Her legs now wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto her hips. Both of them connecting their soft lips, feeling every spark and essence of love. He looked up at Y/N with admiration, thinking how lucky he is to have her in his life. Yeah Covid sucked for the most part and limited their ability to even do anything exciting outside, but it gave them the opportunity to be with each other far more than they could have on a normal day. On a normal day, Tom would be jumping around country to country while Y/N would be home miles and miles away from him. Course, nothings changed with jumping from country to country, but Tom gets to bring Y/N with him now and thats all that mattered to them.

But work never stopped them from keeping busy. Just as their kisses were getting more heated, and their hands tangling each others hair both their alarms went off. The couple stopped their antics as they leaned their heads back, groaning in synchronization.

“Ughh. Thats my cue. I have to prep for an interview.” He mumbles as he nuzzles into Y/N’s neck.

“I know. I have to get ready for another business meeting. Whoo.” she speaks in a sarcastic manner, dropping her head.

“What time?” He asked pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Mm...3. Why?”

Tom plays with the strands of her soft hair. “Was wondering if you’ll stay with me through mine and Ill stay with you through yours.”

“As much fun as that would be. I dont think were allowed to —“

“Im not saying we have to be on camera for each others meeting. But if one of us will be off camera itll be all right.” He plans, still looking at his girl with pleading eyes. Y/N’s mouth twitches to the left, her eyes furrowed with suspicion.

“You’re doing it again.” Tom states, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Doing what?”

“You’re making that face again.”

Her expression quickly changes to confusion, not entirely sure of what Tom was noticing that she didnt about her own face. “What face?”, she asks.

“The one where you twitch your lips and make your eyes look angry. You only do it when youre indecisive about something. Its bloody adorable.”

Y/N snorts at his comment, and tries to get off to give him time to prepare, only to be stopped by his hands pushing her back down on his lap.

“I was serious about wanting to stay with my girl the whole day while doing work. Please?” He pleads again, this time bringing out the puppy face. “I’ll be good and do the dishes tonight.”

To be fair, Y/N knew she was always gonna say yes to Tom. Its pretty hard to deny her dorky boyfriend when hes asking so sweetly and just wants to spend the day together. More so, if the roles were switched, she would have done the same thing. “Go get changed movie star, before youre late for your interview.” She murmurs to him, kissing his cheek before she scrambles of his lap to sit across from him.

Tom whoops with victory as he runs out the room quickly changing into his shirt, fixing his hair, and adding glasses for that sophisticated touch. Sure he wanted to look his best for the Cherry Press, but he made sure his outfit was something Y/N would very much adore as well.

“How do I look?” Tom asked coming out of their shared bedroom.

Y/N looks up from her computer, and smiles widely. “Handsome as always.” She couldnt take her eyes off of him, admiring every detail of the clothing and how it perfectly complimented Tom’s feature. She eyed him from top to bottom, until she noticed something. “Uhh..honey....you’re not wearing any pants.” She asked a bit confused. Her eyes engrossed in the muscles of his thighs and the fit of his Calvin Klein boxers.

Tom smirks at her. “Its uncomfortable wearing pants. Besides no one will see...except you.” He teases, gently lifting her head up so that her eyes meets his. “Eyes up here love.”

“Youre something else.” She laughs, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Well...least we know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

Tom laughs loudly at her comment. He hooks the waistband of Y/N’s sweatpants and snaps them back to further prove her point. “That was a good one. Ill give you that.” Tom and Y/N high five each other, and then it was press time.

Y/N kept quiet and tried her best to minimize the typing unless it was really needed. Seeing Tom talk about his work and dedication was something that she had always admired about him. He loved his job and everyone can see that. Occasionally they’d steal glances from each other, smiling and holding each others hand under table so that no one could see. But it was just one of those moments that Tom and Y/N couldnt help themselves too. Two hours passed and Tom was free.

“You did so well.” Y/N praised Tom and awarded him with a quick kiss. “I love it when you talk about your passion.”

“Thanks. I love that you were there with me to sit through it all.” He smiles. “I believe its your turn now. It’s almost 3.”

Y/N frowns, knowing shed have to dread through hers. Instead of getting to talk about her passions, itd all be about business, business, business. “Ugh. Do I have to?”she groans.

“Come on now. Dont be like that, you’re gonna be fine. Ill be here with you the whole time.” Tom reassures her with kisses all over her face.

“No distractions?” She asks.

“No distractions.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

840 notes · View notes

hinaaspanda · 4 years ago

Text

scrawny | pjs

Pairing: Bad Boy! Jisung x Chilhood Besfriend! Reader

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, a lot of beating people up, **TW: minor instance of sexual battery, stops really early on**

Genre: Angst, some hints of fluff?

Word Count: 10,805 whoops

It was expected that guilt etched itself into your heart. You were the reason Park Jisung was so beaten up, after all. You always were.

inspired by the song Scrawny by the Wallows!

a/n; I apologize if the contents of this fic personally harm you in anyway; I really never meant to hurt anyone, I just wanted to write a more mature-themed fic.

08 . 07 . 12

“You can’t beat me! I’m older and stronger than you, Sungie!” The high pitched voice of your prideful older brother irked your ears as you timidly picked on the weeds below your crouched knees. His hollers, coupled with laughs from his twin always ruined the calmness the breeze brought you. Your eyes glance towards the poor boy on the receiving end of the torture, none other than the boy next door, Park Jisung. You huffed out a sympathetic sigh. No matter how annoying your brothers get, that poor kid just a few feet away from you always had it worse.

Donghyuck, your first older brother, started at the neighbourhood weakling first. His fist hurled towards Jisung’s lower waist before the second member of this cursed partnership, Jeno, trapped the poor kid’s skull in a headlock. Jisungs figure plummeted into the grass, his small fists punching the air as he failed to fight back. Donghyuck belts out another one of his ear shattering howls before turning to your once peaceful frame.

“Y/N! LOOK! WE BEAT JISUNG AGAIN!”

Your hands find themselves tugging at the grass a little harder than you wanted to, the green residue staining your palms once you finally let go. You were almost at your limit with Donghyuck and Jeno, the two buttheads you had to call family. You had enough of it all. You stomp towards your brothers as rays of irritation emitted from you.

“You two are so annoying sometimes! Can’t you just stay put and be quiet for ONCE?” you pleaded, your demanding voice throwing everyone at the park off, especially your two brothers. After all, you were always quiet, always patient with them. They watched fearfully as you gestured towards the poor Jisung lying limp on the grass, bloody bruises and scars covering up his once innocent skin. The air froze still as everyone on the playground waited for your next words. “And please stop hurting Jisung already! He’s younger than you, it’s not fair!”

Jisung winced at your words. He knew you'd say that he wasn’t strong enough. He rubs the fresh scab on his knee, his eyes concentrating on the drops of blood dripping down from it, in the hopes of distracting himself from his own confusing feelings. He knew he was weak, more than anyone else on this playground. But hearing it from you hurt just a little bit more.

The air between the four of you grew silent, the only thing making any noise was the wrestling leaves caught in the spring breeze. In any other occasion, you would have taken your time to relish this moment, but now you had your dumb, older brothers to take care of. You scan their seemingly scared figures before Donghyuck once again lets out an aggravating chuckle.

“You can’t talk to us like that!!” Donghyuck suddenly gave you a stern look, slightly shaking his head in disappointment, as Jeno stepped beside him. “You better watch your mouth, y/n. We’re older than you, remember?”

Fear shot down your spine. What were you thinking? You’d practically be dead meat once your mom finds out you yelled at them! You sealed your eyes as you braced for impact, impact of your brothers lecturing fists breaking your frame. Impact that, also, never seemed to actually occur. Slowly your eyes opened, revealing something jaw dropping.

Jisung’s back faced you, his stance showing an essence of power his 10 year old figure never showed before. His hands, already bruised and crumpled into fists, lowered themselves to his side as your older brothers both took their turn laying defeated on the beat up grass. Groaning in pain, Donghyuck cuddled his newly injured torso, while Jeno soothed his side with the back of his palm.

“Don’t talk to y/n like that, Donghyuck.” Jisung boomed, his eyes never leaving the sight of the two conquered 12 year olds still drowning in pain.

Later that night, you watched as all three boys sunk into an endless night of lectures about not getting into fights, a night you were luckily allowed to skip. Your mind runs back to that earth shattering scene, your brothers lying below the neighborhood weakling, his stance more powerful than those of superheros. You watched Jisung trot home from your bedroom window

Maybe Park Jisung isn’t so weak after all.

...

05 . 16 . 15

“Zhong Chenle, If you make us late to class ONE MORE TIME I swear I will hurt you.” You threaten your new neighbour on the phone. You rubbed your temples with the nimble pads of your fingers, knowing full well Chenle hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet.

“Hold on! I’m almost ready, just give me like five more minutes!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!”

“I mean it this time! I swear!”

“Just hurry up, ok?” You pleaded before cutting the call. As you hastily shoved your phone into your jacket pocket, a disheveled Chenle emerged from his front door, the piece of toast hanging from his lips reminiscent of those anime girls Donghyuck always drooled over.

You could still remember the day Chenle came into your life, taking over the vacant house beside yours. His bubbly, cheerful demeanour taking over your entire summer with all these trips to the basketball court and raids at the neighbourhood convenience store. In your eyes, he was the perfect addition to your neighbourhood friend group, which at that point in your life, only consisted of you and the neighborhood scrawny boy, Park Jisung. Well, that’s what you thought at least.

As the days diverted from bright and sunny, to cold and frigid, and as the three of you grew more overwhelmed with middle school, Jisung grew more and more distant. As for the reason? Well, you wanted to know more than anyone, but that puzzle was harder to crack than any of your grade 7 homework. These days, it was so rare to see his face, you almost forgot he shared a class with you, or still resided six steps beside your house.

“When do you think Jisung’s gonna hang out with us again?” Chenle’s abrupt voice awoke you from your sorrowful slumber. Your head sinks down, your eyes watching your feet on the subway floor. “I don’t know, Chenle.”

Your ears couldn’t help but drown out your teacher’s voice as they taught today’s lesson. You had other things to worry about, anyways. Like what you were going to eat today, or how your hair looked tied up like how it is now. But more importantly, what was going through his mind from across the classroom. It wasn’t long before the bell finally rang, signaling the student’s freedom. Your exhausted eyes watched as the herd of teenagers crowded the exit, leaving three figures inside and all alone; you, Chenle, and Jisung.

From the corner of your eye, you watch Chenle slumps his bag over his shoulders as he, with overflowing panic, shuffled towards the brooding teenager, who looked like he was just staring at you a minute ago. Off to the side, you prayed for Chenle’s success. Or more accurately, his safety.

“H-hey Jisung, do you wanna, uh, walk home with us?”

Jisung pondered for a little bit, then continued.

“...us?”

“Yeah, me and y/n.” Chenle raised a palm in your direction while Jisung’s eyes followed almost instantly. All while you tried your best to hide the fact you were watching all of this go down.

You sensed a shift in Jisungs mood just then, going from simply tired and wanting to head home already, to… anger? Why would he be angry?

“No thanks, you guys can go ahead”

Jisung shot up from his desks, various chairs and classroom furniture shivering in fear. Jisung winced at those words. The same sting he felt all those years ago at the playground with Donghyuck and Jeno, ripped through his chest. But it wasn’t like he was being called weak, or that he needed to prove his worth. No, it was simply that you were with someone else. Not with him. “But we all live on the same street.”

“I’m fine, Chenle”

“Come on, man-”

Suddenly, Jisung whipped around, facing the innocent transfer student. He shot him one last glare before sending his figure to the ground with his fist, faster than the bullet train that provided you a ride to school this morning. Chenle let out a howl of pain as you bounced out of your seat, coming to his aid. Jisung watches as you hold Chenle’s body close, closer than he would’ve liked, before sending you a glare as well.

“Stay away from y/n” He huffed before trekking away from the scene of his own crime. You follow closely behind, the zipper of your bag opening wider as you drag it along.

“Jisung!” You cry, your eyes scanning the halls for your neighbor, your neighbor that was always full of surprises. You finally find him slowly making his way towards the school doors before he stops, turning around to face you.

You never really noticed how much he grew over these few years. Now, his figure was taller, much taller than yours ever could be, easily towering over your small frame. His shoulders were broader, he looked meaner. This wasn’t your scrawny neighbourhood friend any more.

“What?” He muttered, his face noticeably softer now that Chenle was out of his sight. His fingers gripped the strap of his bag as he stared you down, watching you fumble with your own words. He would rather die than admit it, but you looked cute, all nervous like that.

“Why’d you hit Chenle?”

“I-” Now he was the stuttering mess. “I don’t know”

He paused, his suddenly guilty eyes meeting yours. “I didn’t like him being with you.”

You could almost laugh in disbelief. Was he being serious? Your head cocks to the side while your arms cross into themselves. “Jisung, please”

Jisung held his head down, knowing full well of how lame he was right now. Your eyes however, tried finding his again. Reassurance etched in each of your pupils as you lightly nudged his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Jisung, I’m not gonna leave you.”

His frame brightened up instantaneously as you watched him practically jump for joy at your words. So after all those years, Jisung was still a big softie, huh?

“Now, go apologize to Chenle and let’s all go home together, ok?” You spun around, back to the classroom. Jisung swiftly trailed behind you. Of course he didn’t think twice about his apology. Sure, his pride was at stake, but for you? Park Jisung would do anything.

...

04 . 10 . 17

“Get off me, you freak!” The pinned down middle schooler scowled under the grasp of Jisung’s bloodied knuckles. He gasped for air as Jisung clamped his hands down in a chokehold. Jisung tired his best to shoot him a mean glare through his bruised and blackened eye.

“Don’t you dare touch y/n like that, got it?” He growled, his eyes never leaving the sight of the suffering student. Jisung watched as he desperately pried himself away from Jisung’s grasp. He deserved this, though. That moron had zero right grazing his against your thigh. Especially not on his watch.

“It was an accident!” The student dizzily coughed out, his neck still trapped between Jisungs strong palms. “I won’t do it again, alright? Just let me go already!!”

Like the parting of the red sea, Jisung’s palms subsided from the student’s neck, finally setting him free. The student collapsed to the ground, hissing in pain before sending Jisung a dirty look. The various students that once crowded around the scene rushed away to the sounds of an irritated teacher, leaving an awestruck Chenle, a damaged Jisung, and your guilt ridden self behind in the third year hallway. It was expected that guilt etched itself into your heart. You were the reason Park Jisung was always so beaten up, after all. You always were.

Your sorrowful frame couldn’t muster up the courage to spit out a cohesive sentence before the P.A. system blasted through your ears. The next words that deadpan, robotic voice would utter were terribly easy to predict.

“Park Jisung to the principal’s office, please. Park Jisung to the principal’s office. Thank you.”

“Ow! That stings!” Jisung seethed, his hands, newly patched the moment you retired home for the night, digging into your teddy bear’s flesh as you applied the medicine to his wounded cheekbone. You scoffed beside him, picking up more medicine with the q-tip in your hand. “Well, it wouldn’t have to sting if you didn’t beat up that kid in the first place!”

“He touched you weirdly!” He groaned in pain as you plopped another layer of that ice cold medicine he hated.

“It was an accident! And he apologized before you choked him to near-death!” You shot back, your grip on the q-tip growing tighter. A sensation you noticed only happened whenever emotions overflowed in your heart. The pads of your fingertips gently spread a bandaid over his callous skin as the air in your bedroom grew tense. Your chest pushed out a heaving sigh. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“I can take care of myself, Jisung.” You glanced down, cleaning up the mess from your first-aid kit. “So please, stop hurting yourself for me. I hate seeing you all beat up like this, Sungie.”

Sungie. Sungie. It sent butterflies to his stomach. That simple childish nickname, pulling him back to that playground. The start of his fighting career. He didn’t care if that was some random nickname from Donghyuck. It sounded better when you said it. Much, much better.

Jisung awoke from his daze as he felt a pair of lips softly graze his newly mended cheek. His head whipped fast to face you, but barely catching up to the record breaking speed of his ears turning pink. With his cheeks soon following after. His eyes, wider than any body of ocean found on this planet, flusteredly stared you down with only one question in mind. What. Was. That.

You held your clumsy eye contact as you leaned away from your rushed, but sweet, kiss. “Please?” You barely let out in a whisper. Jisung let out a soft grin, his hand hesitantly brushing yours.

“Alright.”

You once again watched Jisung trek the four steps to his front door before freefalling onto your bed, a full on, red-cheeked, flustered mess. Lee y/n, what the hell is wrong with you.

...

07 . 23 . 17

The ice cream melting at such a rapid pace underneath the scolding summer heat was the least of your and Chenle’s concerns. Not with the moving truck parked outside the house of your childhood neighbor and friend?, Park Jisung. After sending flabbergasted looks to each other, the two of you bolted to the front door, disregarding any need of cleaning up after yourselves.

You couldn’t keep still as Chenle banged his fist on the door. Was he moving out? You thought back to this summer. The countless nights the three of you would relish in each other’s company, whether it would be just resting on one of your beds, scrolling through your phones, or at the playground, taking turns on the ancient swings. You smiled to yourself, remembering how Jisung would never swing himself, opting to just push you instead. Would you ever see him again? Your heart cracked open just a little bit at that last thought. The possibility of him leaving you? It hurt more than any punch or chokehold could.

Suddenly, the tired figure of Jaemin, Jisung’s level-headed older brother, emerged. His irritated expression contrasting his welcoming gestures as he allowed the two of you inside without saying a word. And while you had nothing against Jaemin, you really wanted to see Jisung. That boy had some explaining to do.

“Boarding school!? Overseas!?” You and Chenle collectively yelp in surprise, the lemonade Jaemin generously provided you quivering in response.

“Yeah, our parents thought it was a good way to calm him down, get rid of that fighting habit he got over the years.” Jaemin informed. “He left yesterday, didn’t he tell you?”

Your lip bled as you bit into its flesh. No, he didn’t tell you. But you had a strong gut feeling you were the very reason for that hiatus he was taking from your life. You couldn’t help but lock yourself in your bedroom for the rest of the night, against poor Chenle’s wishes. All of it, everything was your fault. Park Jisung wasn’t the weakling, now. You were.

...

03 . 18 . 19

The azure sky looked almost haunted at night. Chills raged through your spine as you, and an exhausted Chenle, shuffled your way home. Your plastic bag of trophies, commemorating another shop raid, hung loosely from your fingertips. Your figure gravitated towards the worn out playground bench as Chenle let out another ear piercing yawn. You were glad he didn’t retire to his own home just yet, though. You enjoyed his company.

“God! My brother’s stuff was such a pain to lug around!” Chenle screeched, soothing his lower back with his palm as you opened one of the few soft drinks you earned from the convenience shop. “Why’d he have’ta move out for college now?”

“It’s not like he had a choice, you know.” you fought. “School does start back up tomorrow.”

“Don’t start with that now, y/n.” Chenle enveloped his forehead in his hands in a petrified manner, as you tried your best to stifle your laughter away. “uGH! SCHOOL’S SUCH A PAIN!!”

You took another sip of your ice cold drink, the can so frozen, it felt hot against your skin. You, however, didn’t really hate the idea of highschool starting up again. You weren’t some measly, small first year anymore. You actually had friends now. But of course, it was a good distraction from the 2 year childhood-neighbour-sized hole in your heart.

“You’re still thinking about him, huh?” Chenle leaned on the opposing side of the wooden park bench, taking a monstrous bite of the chocolate bar he threw aside his 2 dollars for. You sent him a stare, one conveying an emotion even you couldn’t pinpoint. “You already know what I’m gonna say, Chenle.”

Chenle let out a light scoff before softly tapping the exposed skin of your forehead with his knuckles. You squirm, interrupting the calmness that was sipping your drink. You hated that out of all the habits Chenle could have developed, flicking your forehead was one of them. “Don’t worry! All you need to do is distract yourself, and I bet you’ll find one once school starts!”

You tilted your head up to the stars, your eyes shifting to the left as they gazed upon a familiar set of navy window curtains. While Chenle’s harmless habit did nudge you a bit, your own habit of missing Park Jisung, was more detrimental to you than any weak forehead flick could be.

...

“We have a new student today…” The monotonous voice of your newly appointed teacher for the year already blew your ears dry with boredom as your eyes dug through every corner and crevice of this bland classroom for a way to keep you awake. But you deserved some slack to be cut in your favour. It was 9 am in the morning, you would rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. Your eyes were about to roll back in pure exhaustion as your teacher gestured towards the classroom door.

As if on cue, a towering figure sauntered in, woahs and gasps bouncing on the beige walls. You could feel Chenle’s stupefied look burning through the nape of your neck, but you were too trapped in your shock to give him a reciprocating stare. Not with him right in the center of your view.

His uniform wasn’t remotely set on his frame correctly. The paper-like school blouse, which was supposed to be fully buttoned, was opened up, exposing a black graphic t-shirt splattered with text you never considered to be school-appropriate. In place of the faded-plaid, beige trousers that coupled with your uniform, tight black jeans hugged his legs, the gaping rips showcasing old and newer bruises and scars. A small chain hugged his left hip as your teacher once again gestured to the center

“Everyone, please welcome, Park Jisung!”

You knew you were just scanning and processing his appearance like two seconds ago. But finally having that name rip through your ears, you could almost explode from the overwhelmness.

God, can I just pass away now?

...

“Y/n, I won’t ever leave you again.” Jisung’s husky voice brushed through your ears softly, as he cradled your frame, your faces just centimeters apart. His eyes, with all the stars in the sky trapped inside, gave you a look of sincerity you haven’t properly felt in such a long time. He scooped your hair behind your ear before letting out another heart fluttering whisper.

“Be with me, y/n. Let’s run away together, hm?”

“Y/n? Y/N!” The dolphin-esque hollers of Zhong Chenle, combined with the faded ruckus of your school’s cafeteria, jolted you awake from your fantasy as cheap bronze tinted soft drink catapulted itself into the innocence of your white school uniform. Snorts and giggles filled the chests of your friends, especially Chenle’s, as he skipped away to get you a paper towel.

“You seem so out of it.” The voice of a concerned Sungchan your一classmate and resident caretaker一notices, handing you the towel Chenle oh so urgently retrieved.

“When am I ever in it?” you scowled as you began destroying the fabric with the white cloth. It earned a sweet chuckle as Sungchan discreetly slid the bottle of pop away from your grasp, avoiding another image-wrecking incident. He shined a refreshing grin in your direction as Chenle bounced back onto the lunch table.

“She was probably just bein’ emo about Jisung again, leave her be, Sungchan.” Chenle leaned in to inspect your once again dazed figure, the clicks of his judging tongue just pissing you off a little more than it usually did. “Weren’t you, y/n?”

Of course you were, you always were.

“Park Jisung? The new kid? He was an asshole to her, she's allowed to be mad, right?” The other new addition to this weird clique (and your saving grace), Shotaro, chimed in.

Chenle let out another snort, his knowing eyes now glaring at yours. “You would think so, Sho, you would think so.”

“Okay. But he still outright ignored her, right? That’s still a pretty bad move” Shotaro rebutted. Chenle’s eyes went from devious to anxious in a heartbeat as the air around you grew silent.

Yes, Park Jisung一your friend and neighbour for almost all of your life, did indeed ignore you after two whole years of little to no contact. And yes, you were bitter about it. Hell, it broke your heart, smashed it into pieces better than any one of his anger filled punches could. The way his eyes never fully reached yours, his cold, irritated expression. His back turned away from you, this time in an effort to hurt you.

Although, he shouldn’t have this effect on you. For two years, you were deprived of his dangerous yet heartwarming company. You were left alone, ignored via text, forgotten. You could handle this. You watched as he shuffled past your table silently, earning gasps from the audience of students as the delinquent character he recently shifted into. You could handle leaving Jisung. Right?

“I know what could get your mind off that asshole!” Sungchan suddenly chirped beside you, earning the eyes of a curious Shotaro and a confused Chenle. You however, tuned in as fast as humanly possible, praying for any decent distraction you could get.

“Let’s go on a date.”

Jisung couldn’t pry his eyes off your figure, glistening under the afternoon sun that peeked through the cafeteria windows. Your attention, laid on anything else but him as you chatted away with your new friends. He stabbed the stale food with the flimsy plastic fork as he watched you, from the other side of the room, let out your signature laugh; a window-wiper sounding chuckle that you always shielded with your hand. He hated that hand part, though, your smile was too pretty to hide.

Despite your upbeat demeanour, he knew you. Confused at his lack of connection, the barren text threads on your phone. He knew you were probably furious at him right now, for not even sparing her a glance throughout class. And despite how much he just wishes to just stomp on over to you, pick up your precious frame, and kiss you right then, he couldn’t.

He scans his morning old text threads, finding any way to distract himself from the fanservice playing in his thoughts. He clicks the most recent thread, a thread that only made him regret his decision to pick up his phone ever.

Jaem Bro [8:46am]: have fun at school :)

Jaem Bro [8:46am]: remember what mom said, too. don’t talk to y/n

Jaem Bro [8:47am]: she’ll only bring back your bad habits

Jisung scowls as he shoves his phone away.

Piss off, Jaemin.

...

“I had fun today.” Sungchan hummed as he practically skipped beside you that Saturday night. His towering figure shielded you from the glaring light of the street lamp as you softly hummed a response. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

Of course you weren’t lying. All in all, you truly did have a good time on your date. Sungchan kept his promise, all while enjoying kittens at a cat cafe, demolishing your self esteem at the arcade, and even feeding you food you never thought a 17 year old could afford. For the whole day, it felt like that Jisung-shaped hole in your heart was filled, simply retiring into an afterthought. And that would be true, if you hadn’t passed by an all too familiar bedroom as you walked home that night.

It was an all too familiar feeling, the clenching of your heart as you gazed upon those curtains. His bed, which was also in view, sending you memories of patching that clumsy boy up almost every day. It all washed back to you. Sungchan suddenly nudged your side, waking you up from your cursed thought train. But after seeing what he saw, all you could do was yearn to return back to your dreamland.

To say that Jisung’s eyes simply widened at the sight of you, grinning sweetly at another guy, would be a definite understatement. He came so close to dropping his newly opened soda can as a series of texts shifted into his mind

Don’t talk to y/n, she’ll only bring back your bad habits.

Jisung clenches his jaw watching you giggle at that asshole’s (presumably bad) joke. Maybe Jaemin was right. Maybe he shouldn’t talk to you anymore. You clearly didn’t need him now.

“Jisung?” You yelped, stunned. Jisung watched you slowly inch back closer to that beanpole. He felt his limbs being pulled back into his fighting habits, jealousy burning through his lips. His hands, still off to his sides, balling up into fists. Someone was gonna get hurt tonight.

“Were you guys on a date?”

“We-”

“Yeah, we were'' Sungchan cut in, his arm shielding you from Park Jisung’s wrath. “Got a problem with that, buddy?”

Steam puffed from Jisung’s ears as he stalked towards Sungchan. “You got some nerve talking to me like that, buddy” Jisung hissed. He was at his limit. He gave Sungchan one last nasty look. Target: Acquired. Except, with the last two years of zero practice under his belt, his aim wasn’t exactly good. It was horrible, actually.

It all happened too fast for you, one second you were safely guarded by Sungchan’s shoulder. The next? Lying limp at the mercy of Jisung’s hatred-filled fist. His knuckles jabbing deep into the crevice of your cheekbone. Deep down, you knew it was probably just an accident. But your heart didn’t listen to you. It never did.

“Ji-” You could barely muster through your own tears. You wanted to scream from the pain. But not just the physical pain.

Jisung stood frozen before your defeated figure. Shit. What the hell was wrong with him. All he wanted was to knock out that asshole for a little bit.

“I-” Jisung stammered

“Forget it, Jisung. Quit being an asshole and leave me alone!” You spat out those last few words a little louder than you intended to as you wobbled up, storming away. Away from him, away from Sungchan and your own home. You didn’t care how far you’d go. You didn't care about the sudden rainfall pouring on you. Your mind just told you one thing and one thing only. Run

I hate you so much, Park Jisung.

Jisung waited for the sky to dress into its daily midnight attire before finally ducking into the comfort of his own home. He was overwhelmed, to say the least. Pissed, definitely, with that Sungchan asshole just existing around you. Tired, for staying out till 1 in the morning again. But mostly guilt, for being the very reason your eyes weren’t completely dry that night. He knew he was gonna regress into his fighting habits soon enough, but never like this. His eyes glazed over his screen clicking on a familiar contact.

“You WHAT?” Chenle shocked what was left of Jisung’s poor eardrum as he gawked in full astonishment. Jisung couldn’t see Chenle’s face, but he knew for a fact it was scrunching up in confusion. Jisung watched the still streetlight from his bedroom window, guilt still welling up in him. “Man, what am I gonna do?”

“Oh, I don’t know? Apologize?”

“How am I gonna do it? She’s not gonna wanna talk to me after this! I’m screwed!” Chenle grew silent on the other line, his brain striking an idea harder than the sudden rain pour. “That’s it! Sung, what’s y/n’s favorite thing to buy at the shop? The one down our street?”

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed. “...She likes their ramen a lot, but what’s that got to do with any of this?”

“Meet me at the shop tomorrow morning. I know how to fix this.”

...

“SUNGIEEE!” Donghyuck shrieked, throwing Jisung off of his caution-filled thought process as the front door blew wide open. Although, it wasn’t much of a thought process, but rather just the repeated question of What the hell am I doing here, and you, of course. But no matter, you were always running through his mind anyways. Donghyuck pulled Jisung into a tight, brotherly hug. “Where have ya been?? I missed you!”

Jisung shined a bogus smile at his childhood bully. This better fucking work, Zhong Chenle.

Jisungs legs drowned in a pool of hesitance as he shuffled into your home, his ears shielding the irritable rambles of Lee Donghyuck, one half of the annoying Lee Twins duo. He didn’t care if he hadn't seen Donghyuck’s face in over two years, the only thing he searched for was you.

“You’re here for y/n right? She got a cold from the rain last night, but I could probably let you in.” Donghyuck informed, as if he could read Jisung’s mind.

“You should hurry up and be our in-law soon, Sungie!” He nudged Jisung’s arm a few times, a mischievous grin suggesting that he either read into his mind a little too much, or that Jisung was just blatantly obvious about his feelings. He prayed that it wasn’t the latter. Another figure suddenly emerged from the kitchen, giving Donghyuck a nice, crisp slap on the nape of his neck.

“Oi, quit bein’ such a creep, will you?” Lee Jeno, the other, more down-to-earth half of the Lee twins, defied. “He’s 17, dumbass.”

Donghyuck jokingly wailed in pain, a habit he's kept since childhood, apparently. Jeno turned his attention to Jisung, a sympathetic stare shining in his eyes. At least he turned out half-way decent.

“Y/n’s upstairs if you need her, but uh-” Jeno scratches his head. “I don’t think she wants to see you, or anyone, really.”

“That’s fine,” Jisung’s eyes ducked to the bag of snacks hanging from his hand. “I’ll just drop these off and head out.”

“Don’t have too much fun, Sung-OW!” Donghyuck chirped, irking Jisung as he earned a slap on the shoulder from his twin. Thank god for Jeno.

Your aching head actually didn’t hurt that much, at least compared to the pain of your brooding heart. You watched a leaf fall to the ground from your bedroom window. The pain still piercing through your side, the guilt for leaving Sungchan behind at the playground, or the confusing monstrosity of Park Jisung, it all overtook you. Your measly little brain couldn’t handle it.

The creaking of the door wasn’t enough to spin you back to reality, but apparently, his cautious footsteps were. Your head snapped forward, your eyes meeting the view of his ripped jeans, and a plastic bag littered with snacks. Of course.

“Jisung?”

“H-hey”

You watched as Jisung stammered under his breath. He looked so nervous facing you, worlds more nervous than moment’s before one of his brawling sessions.

Jisung’s eyes kept rejecting yours as he fumbled with the plastic bag amidst his grasp. To be completely honest, Jisung was sure you wouldn’t even let him in, much less talk to him. Even if it was in such a cold manner. He shuffled towards her laying figure, his eyes still glued to the wall as he hands her the plastic bag.

“I, uh一no, my mom wanted me to give you this.” Jisung stuttered.

You dig through the bag, the only thing trapped within it bound to give you diabetes. You scoff. “Your mom wants me to eat instant noodles?”

Shit, right. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Ahaha, yea” Jisung trailed off, backing away from you before proceeding to brutally stab his elbow onto your door handle. Who’s dumb idea was it to name it the funny bone, anyways? Nothing about it was funny. He lets out a soft hiss after finally turning away from you. Well, maybe Jisung himself was, he was a clown, afterall.

“Wait.” You suddenly squeaked, making Jisungs' shoulders jerk up. Was she gonna-

“Come help me.” You handed him the cup noodles, wanting nothing but to laugh at his stupid, stupifyied face. You sniffled. “I can’t make noodles by myself like this, you idiot.”

“Oh, right.” Park Jisung, you absolute clown.

...

Out of all the situations you could get stuck in, the last one you expected was in your bedroom, trapped in an annoying cold whilst being fed instant noodles by your childhood neighbor, Park Jisung, three whole days after that incident. You watched as his plastic fork, etched in a tremble that had you thinking he was going to die that instant, hastily scooped the processed food before making its way to your mouth.

However, and you would rather die than admit it, but you missed this warm sensation. You missed the company Jisung provided, the way he would grow soft just for you, moments after beating up some stupid kid. The countless bandages you used in his favour as you patched him up almost every night. You missed it all. And despite having him back in your street, he never really came back to your life. It was all different now.

You watched him chuck the fork into the now empty noodle bowl, his next few actions sending you on the verge of cardiac arrest.

With a tissue in hand, Jisung suddenly leaned in, his eyes still veering away from yours as he wiped off some stain on your cheeks. There could have also been no stain at all, and this was just a ruse to get you flustered. Park Jisung has gotten good at playing with your heart lately. His chest was just centimeters apart from yours, any closer and your thumping heart would be completely exposed, not that your vermillion cheeks weren’t a dead give away already.

“A-am I too close?” Jisung barely whispered. Half of you wanted to say yes, while the other half wanted to pull him even closer. You couldn’t handle this anymore.

“Why are you here, Jisung?” You suddenly blurted out as you grabbed a hold of his gentle wrist. “And I know it wasn’t for some stupid noodles.”

Jisung’s chest caved in as he let out a sigh. “I, uh wanted to say sorry.”

Your mind flashes back to that night, the image of his fierce, cold eyes still sending shivers down your spine. Jisung continues, his eyes finally holding yours hostage. Here goes nothing.

“I'm sorry for punching you, for making you run away like that.” His guilt ridden eyes scan your bed-ridden frame. “All of this, it’s all my fault.” His eyes collected the stars that hid beneath the afternoon sky. “If you wanna stop talking to me after this, I understand. I’m not good enough for you.”

There goes your heart again, clenching at anything related to Park Jisung. You hated how he had that effect on you. Yet you also loved it. You let out a soft chuckle sending waves of hope to him. You could never really reject him, could you?

“You really are annoying, sometimes.” You gaze at him, a small grin lining your lips. “But, I don’t think I wanna stop talking to you just yet.” The way Jisung’s frame brightens up the same way it did all those years ago, didn’t fail to warm your heart. “I’ll forgive you, Park Jisung.”

Without thinking, Jisung pulls you into a gentle hug. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, Jisung softly smiled. No matter how many times Jaemin could nag him, Jisung could never stay away from you. His life was finally back to normal.

“Oh! one more thing!” You murmured. He smiled at you sweetly, giving you the signal to continue.

“Sungchan’s one of my good friend’s, so please, don’t try and beat him up? And maybe you could even hang out with Chenle and them at school! There’s some new guys there that I think you’d get along with great!” You suggested, your bright demeanour too strong for Jisung’s poor eyes. “Would you at least try? Promise?”

Jisung shrugged. I mean it wouldn’t hurt. He sends you another soft smile. “Yeah, I promise.”

...

“That’s why you ask for help, dumbass!” Shotaro barked at Chenle, who was currently slumped on the lunch table, brooding about his not so stellar math grade.

“You, good sir, have NO right to talk.” Chenle proudly clapped back. “Mr. ‘35% in english’.” Chenle heaves out an over-exaggerated sigh. “If only y/n was here today, she is the smart one.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t that hard being the smart one around you, Lele.” Jisung shielded Chenle’s incoming offended slap to the shoulder as he nibbled on the plastic straw drowning in his vending machine soft drink. It alarmed him how fast he mended with your friend group, even if it did just consist of that dolphin brat he’s known for years, and probably the sweetest guy he's ever come across, Shotaro. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t beat up every guy he comes across.

Jisung glances around the table, where only three chairs were actually occupied. Doesn’t that Sungchan guy hang out here?

“Where’s Sungchan?” Jisung drew in the attention of his new friend. Shotaro’s fingers tapped the plastic table. “It’s weird, he only hangs out with us sometimes, whenever he feels like it, I guess.” Whenever y/n’s around, you mean, Jisung corrected in his head.

“Or...” Chenle pitched in. “He didn’t wanna hang out with someone who was about to punch him.” Crap. He should probably apologize for that.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it! Ahaha!” Jisung quickly cut off Shotaro, the fear of getting incredibly embarrassed riling through him. He hoisted the empty soda can in between his fingertips before standing up on his two feet. “I’ll, uh, get another one.”

Jisung couldn’t have felt more creepy than he did at that very moment, peeking through the heads of various students as he eyes Sungchan. His mind flashes a very cute image of you, smiling just as softly as you do both three days and two years ago. His breaths grew heavy. This was gonna be easy, just apologize to Sungchan and maybe become his friend, then y/n can really be happy. Jisung let out a deep sigh. For y/n.

He hesitantly sauntered towards the beanpole currently reaching for his newly paid drink at the vending machine. From the looks of it, this Sungchan guy couldn’t hear Jisung’s calls, making him yell louder. He could feel the stares of the confused highschool students burn through him. God, how annoying can this asshole get?

“Here to finish what you started, Park?” Sungchan suddenly sneered, his eyes narrowing nonchalantly at the Park in question. His laid back posture screaming 'you don't wanna mess with me.' Jisung raised an eyebrow, scanning Sungchan's current figure, which didn't match with his image from that night. Taken aback at the sudden mood shift, Jisung stuttered. “No, uh, I wanted to say sorry about that, actually.”

“Save it” Sungchan spat. His eyes fully locked in with Jisung’s before ripping them away at the last second. He encased a white box in his hand before pivoting on his heel. “I'm going for a smoke.”

Jisung eyes go wide. Who the hell is this guy? Sungchan didn’t spare the poor boy a glance before slipping through the school's only emergency exit. Various phrases, all containing the word ‘asshole’, ran through Jisung’s mind as he followed Sungchan, trying his best to remind himself that this was all for you.

The outdoor air brushed lightly against Jisung’s skin, coating him in a refreshing hug. With the pearly blue sky above him, and the lush green trees shading his face, he would’ve relished in the afternoon breeze. He would’ve, if it weren’t for the cigarette smoke overtaking him, all coming from that damn beanpole.

“What the hell do you want from me, Park” Sungchan hissed, a cloud escaping his lips before whipping around. “Are you here to make friends or some shit?” Jisung threw a hesitant nod at his direction.

“Look, Sungchan. Let’s just try to get along. For y/n’s sake. That's all she wants.” Jisung extended a hand to Sungchan, only to earn another annoying ass chuckle. “Why would I wanna do something like that for y/n?”

“Don’t you like her or whatever?”

“No, are you stupid?”

Jisung’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion. “Then why-”

“Isn’t it obvious, Park?” Sungchan, stenchy cigarette breath and all, leaned in. God, Jisung wanted to puke right in front of him. “She's hot. I want her.”

Jisung pondered for a few minutes, and honestly? He wished he never put two and two together. He couldn’t help but hiss under his breath as his hands balled up into their iconic fists. The random dates? The nice guy image? It was all for that? This bastard wanted to take your innocence away. And this bastard had the audacity to hurl another snicker at Jisung.

“You do know what I’m talking about, right?” Sungchan kissed his cigarette one last time before tossing it to the gravel, the poor paper feeling the wrath of his sneakers. “I wanna have sex-”

Jisung didn’t give him the chance to finish before crushing his gut between the school’s brick wall and his iron fist. Jisung leaned in, his eyes burning with a fury he hadn’t felt in nearly two years. “You’ll be dead before you get the chance to even touch her, got that?”

Sungchan let out a mighty growl of pain, bending away as Jisung reconnected his fist to Sungchan’s right cheek. The beanpole flew to the ground, red blood spewing from his nose. Jisung scoffed, standing tall with not a single scratch on his skin. For a little while, at least.

Suddenly, Sungchan flung himself back to his feet, his bruised fist upper-cutting Jisung’s jaw off its course before pinning him down to the stiff hard rock of the pavement. His hands pressed themselves onto each side of Jisung’s neck as the boy underneath gasped for air. Jisung’s fingers clamp onto Sunchan’s wrists, pulling for an escape as Sungchan spits out another irking laugh. “You’re not the only one who can put up a good fight, Park”

Jisung sounded off shallow breaths beneath Sungchan’s grasp. “Why would you...y/n…”

“I’m only human, Park. I got needs. And y/n? she was all depressed, just begging for the attention. It only made sense.”

Jisung sent a knee through Sungchans chest, rolling on top of him before staining Sungchan with punches all over his skin. Jisung’s fingers tense up around Sungchan's shirt collar as brings him closer, hissing at his leftover cigarette breath. “That doesn’t give you any damn right to fuck her.”

“Why do you care so much? Last time I checked, you left her without saying a word! Looks to me like you're the last person who she would care about.”

Those texts he left unopened abroad, the missed calls, the wanting stares you sent him on his first day back. It all washed back to Jisung like a typhoon. This bastard was right, he couldn’t protect you like this anymore, he didn’t have the right. He broke your heart over and over again. He was the last person you needed. But no. The bastard needed to be taught a lesson; don't ever mess with his girl.

“Cause I love her, and I won't let you have her.” Jisung suddenly blurted out, praying that the redness on his cheeks was simply blood. Sungchan let out a heaving chuckle. “Oh? Even more of a reason, then!”

Jisung hissed one final time before trapping Sungchan between his legs, throwing heavy punches left and right, staining his shirt, his fists, Sungchan’s face, and the ground with blood. Like a bomb moments before its explosion, there was no stopping him, he was trapped by his own haze of violence. The only thing pulling him back to reality were Shotaro’s arms as he and Chenle guided the two bruised bodies to the nurse’s office.

I’m sorry, y/n. I really am.

...

The image of a bloodied Sungchan, alongside an equally bloodied Jisung, was the last thing you wanted to wake up to from your hefty slumber. Your phone practically levitated from all the buzzing. People you faintly knew, and even some you didn’t, all came to you in utter fear. God, and to think you were on a break.

Y/N!! Sungchan and Jisung were fighting in the parking lot!

Y/N!! You need to come over here asap!!!

You need to control your boys y/n, someone could get seriously injured!!

You couldn’t help but laugh at that last hasty message. It’s too late to worry about someone getting injured. Especially if it’s Park Jisung in question. You glance at probably the only contact that hasn’t, well, contacted you. Your finger, laced with anger, clicks the screen. Park Jisung, you’ve got some explaining to do.

“You don’t understand!” Jisung’s mighty croak pounded through your phone speaker. However, your attention slowly began to drift away. It only made sense, that’s the fifth time he’s pulled that excuse in this call, alone. “That Sungchan guy is a complete asshole!!”

“You say that about every damn guy I talk to, Jisung!” You nagged, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head in disappointment. Some things just couldn’t change, could they?

“Y/n, I’m telling you!! He’s not as nice as you think he is!” You clenched your phone, agitation seeping through your teeth. Couldn’t he just listen to you for once? “He’s got bad motives, y/n, you don’t wanna hang around someone like him. There’s so many bad things he's hiding from you. The bastard smokes, fights regularly, too, and…”

You heaved out a deep sigh, your knuckles turning white from your angry grip on the bed sheet. First, he pulls the same damn excuses, and then he lies? You couldn’t take it anymore.

“And what? Jisung? What other lies are you gonna tell me?” Silence cuts through your speaker, finally giving your irritated heart a chance to breathe before Jisung continues.

“Wait...you think I’m lying about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re saying that a highschooler smokes! Jeez, if you didn’t like Sungchan you could’ve just said so!”

“You know I wouldn't lie to you, y/n!” Your buzzing figure leans back into your castle of stuffed animals as your bellows gradually get louder with each passing argument.

“I thought I knew, but you’re really making me second guess things. I’m tired of this, Jisung.” You finally hiss before ending the call, leaving Park Jisung suffocating in yet another guilt-filled haze. Just as you click away from the contact, a notification catches your eye, craving for any sort of distraction from your anger.

Sungchanniee :) [6:37pm]: hey :)

Sungchanniee :) [6:37pm]: you wanna call?

...

"I’m not so sure about this, Sungchan.” You fumbled with your fingers in the passenger's seat of Sungchan's car.

“C’mon! It's a party! It’ll be fun! Think of it as like a way to pay you back, for making you worry so much before.” You think back to your phone call, where you mostly vented about Park Jisung, while all he said was ‘calm down’ like ten times. Maybe he was right. You glanced out the car window, the greyish skyline growing darker and darker with each hour. God, your parents are going to kill you for staying out so late.

“Who is this YangYang guy, anyways?”

“Oh YangYang? That dude’s the best at parties, you’re gonna love him!” Sungchan beamed. You huffed. Anything to get your mind away from your childhood neighbor.

The bass-boosted, trap noise someone had the audacity to call music shook you to your core the moment you entered the party house. You met familiar faces, sure, but none you wanted to talk to. How did anyone have fun like this? Heck, where did Sungchan go? Your now curious eyes glance back to the bar, shiny bronze liquids all dazzled up in their own glass bottles. Nothing like your neighbourhood child self had ever seen. You found yourself drifting closer. What kind of house party was this?

The liquor slid down your throat with an extra sting. Too many flavours, all clashing with each other in the wrong ways. And yet, you found yourself coming for more. You’re already halfway done your first cup of the night when a figure comes up from behind you.

“Hey! I’m YangYang! Sungchan brought you, right?” He extended a hand out to you as you exchanged greetings. He carried your attention to the top of the stairs as you desperately tried to hear him over the music. “Uh-yeah, I’m y/n.”

“Just to let you know, we have a chill out room if you ever need a quiet place to stay.” YangYang informed, his smile radiating welcoming energy. “It’s up on the third floor, just to your left. Have fun!”

You bid him farewell before you resumed staring intently at your drink, hoping no one else would spare you a glance.

45 minutes and probably 2 drinks (though it really felt like 6) later, Your head starts banging with a sharp pain you never felt before, clenching at your brain. You hiss in pain, the bass pounding music only making you feel sick. You wobbly retreat up to that chill room YangYang mentioned. That would calm you down, right?

“Hey” The sudden yet comforting voice of Sungchan alarmed you as you creaked the door open. He was perched onto the bed, the light of the lamp setting his skin on fire. Your eyes couldn’t look at him for long, though, not with your heavy eyelids drooping. Sungchan scoots aside, patting a now vacant space on the guest bedroom, just for you. “You should rest, you look exhausted.”

...

Chenle slammed the car door shut, shoving his car keys in his pocket as Shotaro followed swiftly. The evening breeze swayed the flaps of Chenle’ jacket as he shivered. “We’re at the party now, Sung.” He muttered to his phone.

“Alright.” Jisung could barely breathe as he perched his head on his damp pillow, not with the guilt still rushing through his body. His eyes, still red and swollen, watched the bright stars contrast from the midnight sky. It was the first time he's stayed in at night. Yet he was in no condition to go out. Sure, the stars shined bright tonight, but his star was forever gone. He’d lost you.

“You just want us to check on her, right?” Chenle implored as Shotaro greeted the party, putting up his best ‘I actually want to be here!’ face. Jisung huffed softly through the other end. “Yeah.”

“Take care of y/n for me.”

...

Like a magnet, you flew onto the bed, positioning yourself for a good night’s rest. Sungchan swiftly laid beside you, a groan escaping his lips as he positioned himself too. You inhale, the air around you smelling faintly of…cigarettes? You brush it aside, this is a highschool house party, afterall.

Sungchan watched as your eyes struggled to stay open, his face merely inches away from your peaceful one. His heartbeat grew faster and faster, his heart racing as he pushed your hair behind your ear. A sly smirk lined his lips.

He started off slow, peppering kisses all over your sleeping figure as he made sure you weren't fully awake. Softly, he pinned you down, the blades of your shoulders digging into the mattress as he got on top of you, fully encasing your frame in his. YangYang's a genius, letting him use the guest bedroom like this. Sungchan felt you tremble under him, wriggling around as you send whimper-like sounds in his direction. He grew hot, practically salivating. Park Jisung can finally piss off.

"mmph, Jisung stop it" you uttered unconsciously, throwing Sungchan off his course. Anger ruling through him as he gripped the bedsheets, trying his best not to lash out on your peaceful figure. After all this time? You still thought about him? That asshole? His hand grabs a hold of the bare of your thigh. He was glad you only wore a skirt today.

The touch of a cold palm shook you away from your drunken slumber, only to find Sungchan, pinned on top of you with rosy, flustered cheeks. He stared you down with the hunger of a lion, moments before devouring its next meal. Your eyes widen, the sudden realization of Sungchan's current doings striking you like a flash of lightning.

Jisung was right, he was dangerous.

You pushed Sungchan's chest off of yours as you shot up from the bed, terror dripping from your eyes. His eyes still contained that hunger. A hunger that you were never going to solve. "Get off of me!"

You raced through the door, not sparing him a chance to answer. While sliding down the stairs and slithering through the crowds of drunken teenagers, you barely noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. All of your trust, all of your faith, brutally destroyed right before your eyes. Who could you turn to now??

"Y/n? Where are you going?" Chenle, who arrived late to this horrid party, tugged on your sweater lightly to get your attention. You, however, only responded with a stronger pull away.

"I'm going home, Chenle. I need to get out of here." You huffed breathlessly before escaping, not sparing him or Shotaro a glance. Chenle gave Shotaro a concerned stare before following your footsteps.

Sure, you had the willpower to get as far away from that monster as possible, but your legs didn't. They were weak, wobbly, and the mercy of gravity's pull. Your running form grew sloppy as your arms dragged themselves through the air. You were so beat, that it didn't come to your surprise when your sight switched to black and a thump of hard pavement striking your head before you laid limp underneath the streetlight.

“Y/N!”

...

You convinced yourself you were peacefully floating away on a cloud, so imagine your disappointment when your eye’s flutter open to see your bedroom curtains, followed by your comforter which you drowned in. The sunshine shot your weak eyes as you shifted around, wondering how you ended up back home in the first place. What happened?

Jeno sat right beside your sleeping figure, lazily perched on your desk chair as his eyes abruptly ripped away from his phone screen and onto you. He sent you a heartwarming smile, his once tense expression relaxed at the sight of you, alive and well. You never seen Jeno smile like that before. It was nice

“How are you feeling?” He soothed, patting the back of your hair softly after scooting closer to you. You murmured a half-assed response, the shockwaves of a major headache starting. God, you were never going to drink again. “I’m alright, I think.”

Jeno huffed out a relieved chuckle, pulling the blanket over so it would cover more of your cold looking frame. He gave you another bonk to the head with his knuckles, something that helped your headache. Helped it hurt, at least.

“That’s good. Well, you passed out last night, Chenle had to take you home. And don’t worry, I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about the party. You should watch out for Hyuck, though.” Your eyes widen at Jeno’s words, ‘party’ specifically shaking you to your core. The deafening music, the soul-irking booze, the unknown faces. You hated it. Jung Sungchan pinning you down on the guest bed, closing the distance between you without your approval. You hated it. Utterly disgusted by it. All your trust, your respect for him, thrown out the window. Your mind trails back to a certain phone call, your heart now drenched in guilt.

“That Sungchan guy is a complete asshole!”

“He’s got bad motives, y/n.”

“You don’t wanna hang out with someone like him!”

Park Jisung. Your childhood neighbor. The one who was right all along, and the one you foolishly disregarded. You clenched the fabric of your shirt, your heart pulling on your weakened frame. How could you be so blind, and still have the heart to blame him? Park Jisung. Your protector, your knight. The one who truly held your heart. That last thought sent butterflies straight to your stomach. Of course, He always had that effect on you. You’ve just never believed yourself. Always brushed it aside. If Jisung could tell you the truth, so could you. You love him. You’re in love with Park Jisung.

You scrambled out of your bed, your speedy figure scaring the living shit out of Jeno. “Woah, slow down! Where are you going?”

Your eyebrows wrinkle, etched in determination. “I need to find Jisung.”

“Can’t that wait? You need to rest!”

“I need to tell him the truth.” you murmured. “My heart can’t take it anymore, Jeno.” he sent you a knowing nod, stepping aside as you rushed out the door.

Your brother did have a point, though. You shouldn’t be scrambling away like this, not with your knees about to buckle up from exhaustion. Your eyes, however, shot straight ahead, your pulse going through the roof. No more lying to yourself anymore. You race through the kitchen, not paying notice to a distraught looking Donghyuck, protecting his full cereal bowl from a fatal accident.

The grass still felt damp from the week-old rainfall as it hugged your bare feet. You raced through the sidewalk, your chest heaving as the wind pushed against you. Where was he?

The creeks of the ancient swingset didn’t fail to irk the ears of Jisung and Chenle as they sat in a comfortable silence, with a few (but very opinionated) comments thrown in by Chenle to help lighten the mood. It was the only thing Chenle could think to do, with a guilt-ridden, messed up Park Jisung at his side.

“I couldn’t protect her, Chenle.” He barely whispered, breath shaking. “I was too late.”

“You did everything you could, man. You can’t protect her all the time.”

“I wasn’t even there when she needed me most!” Jisung shouted, his voice booming as he shot up from his swing. “If I can’t do something like that, how am I gonna…” He trailed off, his figure slumping back to his swing.

“How are you gonna...what?” Chenle’s curious eyes scanned the brooding figure. His hands, fully enveloping his head, ruffling his hair in the process. If Chenle hadn’t leaned in right beside Jisung, he would’ve never caught his little一yet electrifying一confession. “...How am I gonna be her boyfriend?”

“JISUNG!” The two teenagers jolted back into reality, the sounds shallow, exhausted breaths hurling their direction as their whip in unison. Your disheveled figure一complete in its oversized t-shirt, tousled hair, and lack of proper footwear一bolts towards them. Despite the energy surging away from you, you wouldn’t rest until you reached them. As you got closer, your eyes finally locked with Jisung’s, mirroring your guilt ridden expression as he towered over you.

“Jisung, I-” You began, not sure if your shaky breath was caused by the immense amount of cardio you just did, or your rapidly thumping heart about to explode in your chest. “I’m sorry for blaming everything on you, not listening to you about Sungchan, everything. I was being stupid and selfish and一” You cut yourself off, not daring to look up at the dumbfounded Park Jisung, ear’s more red than the red scrunchie on your wrist.

“I-I need you in my life. You’re the one that keeps my life together, the one who kept me safe, ever since we were kids.”

Your eyes finally had the courage to look at him, your fingers wrinkling the hem of your shirt as you bite your lip in pure anxiety. Your heart was racing, was this what a heart attack felt like?

“I’m in love with you, Jisung.”

Jisung froze, his lips parted in utter shock. It all hit him too fast. His brain lagged behind as his hands, etched with a sense of impatience, roughly cups your cheeks, bringing them inches before his face. Eyelids fluttering shut, he molds his lips onto yours, his arms clasping around your waist in an effort to hold you close, so you never leave his life again. You reciprocate, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying your best to hide the butterflies stuck in your stomach. A sensation only Park Jisung could achieve.

The two of you finally part lips from your breath-stealing kiss, your eyes never letting each other go as vermillion stains your cheeks. Jisung quietly stuttered out his reply. Don’t get Jisung wrong, he wasn’t hesitant to answer at all. In fact, you were pretty sure you already knew his. Jisung shined a heartwarming smile.

“I love you too, y/n.”

...

“Did you really need to punch that guy that hard? I think his nose started bleeding!” Shotaro yelped, still slightly out of breath the four of you running away from the shop security.

“That asshole deserved it! He shouldn’t be flirting with my girlfriend in FRONT of me!” Jisung laid back on the playground bench, an arm hugging your waist from behind as you lazily perched next to him.

“That asshole was the cashier, and your girlfriend was paying for our drinks, dumbass.” Chenle uttered with a deadpan look. He tossed another ice cold, convenience store drink. “Tell him, y/n!”

“Chenle’s right.” You responded automatically, softly smiling to the feeling of Jisung’s arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace, his head hiding in the crook of your neck. This boy really softened you like putty. You glance back at him, your eyes holding the stars above.

“Besides, I already have you, I don’t need anyone else.”

As you and Jisung both blissfully ignored the fake retching sounds emitting from a sarcastic Chenle, and the contrasting, supportive cheers coming from Shotaro, you sent Jisung a swift, sweet peck on the cheek. Turns out you could melt him like putty, too, judging by his embarrassed reaction. You didn’t need the questionable comments. You only needed him. Park Jisung. Your (scrawny) knight and shining armour.

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themorphine · 3 years ago

Text

You and Me (That's my whole world) Chapter 2

IM SO SORRY FOR THE DEAL BUT HERES THE NEXT CHAPTER

heres the other one if you forgot

Fandom: RWRB

Pairing: Alex and Henry

TW: Angst, Swearing

Henry POV

1 month later….

The junior/senior trip had finally arrived, much to Henry’s dread. His love for Alex had bloomed, more than he could ever imagine. But for some reason, Alex had begun to ignore him, not even sitting with all of them. Henry could tell June and Nora knew what was going on, but they wouldn’t budge. Henry was worried now; what was going on? Did he do something? Probably, but what did he do? He was so careful. Alex could never know. His heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak, and yet he longed to have him in his arms. Christ, he was bloody fucked. Pez was starting to get worried.

“Henry, you need to tell Alexander how you feel. It’s eating at you every time you just see him at school.”

“It’s fine, Pez, really. I’m fine.”

“H-“

“I’m fine.”

He and Pez walked toward Alex, June, and Nora. Alex was now staring right athim. Henry doesn’t think he can handle any more of Alex’s mood swings. (He probably could, but he likes to think he thinks about himself from time to time.) Henry and Pez share a worried and somehow hopeful look. It’s a slightly scary look. Hope can damage people much more than a punch.

If Henry’s honest, he’s a little scared. Did Alex realize that he’s hopelessly in love with him and disgusted? His anxiety crawls at him, nagging him to the very end.

“Hey guys!” Nora yells when they are close enough.

“Where’s Bea?” June asks.

“She couldn’t make it,” Henry says, “but she sends her love.”

“Who’s ready to party?” Alex yells, and Everyone whoops. Henry gives a small smile. He’s staring at Henry again, and his expression oozes hate. And something else. It’s an interesting mix. He wonders if there is a smoothie for it. They live in America, so probably.

Henry quickly gets on the bus, avoiding Alex and practically shoving Pez into the seat beside him. Alex looks at him for a second before sitting next to a friend named Liam. Henry feels a pang of jealousy but reminds himself yet againthat Alex is not his. He’s never been.

*~*

The past month had been a fucking mess for Alex.

Firstly, he has been neck-deep in assignments from his law class. His teacher says he’s “preparing them for the real world.” He thinks his teacher is just lazy.

Secondly, the lacrosse team has made it to state championships, so he’s had double the practice than usual. He once fell asleep doing drills because he was so drained.

But the biggest thing of all was Henry. Henry's mother fucking Fox. He still didn’t know why Henry made him feel weird, and it just made him on edge. What is going on?

*~*

HENRY POV

“Henry!” He heard Pez say, though his voice was muffled. Henry didn’t want to wake up. He had been dreaming of soft brown curls and chocolate brown eyes, and it was the best dream he could ever wish for. And the most painful, but he decided to ignore that.

“Hgnnnn,” Henry replied, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Come on, Wales. Don’t want to be left on the bus, do you?”

Henry’s eyes flew open, Alex’s face mere inches away from him. Christ, he looked even more beautiful upfront. He was fully awake now, eyes boring into Alex’s chocolate brown ones. The ones he’d been dreaming off. He saw Alex lift his hand before stopping himself. He then lifted it again and grabbed Henry’s hand. He dragged Henry off the bus, and Henry knew he should shout, but all he could think about was how he was holding Alex Claremont-Diaz’s hand. He felt a shot of electricity when they first touched hands, but it quickly left as soon as it came. Alex dropped Henry’s hand once they got off the bus, and Henry almost fell from the force of being pulled and suddenly dropped.

“Christ, Alex, I could have tripped!”

Alex looked at him with mock hurt, “Are you questioning my abilities to catch you, Wales?” He asked.

Henry was confused at first. This was the first time Alex looked at him with hate and anger. But he rolled his eyes; a smile was playing on his lips. “Of course not. I’m counting on it.”

*~*

Henry split from Alex after that, running to fine Pez. He was near the check-in with June and Nora. He looked up and grinned when he spotted Henry.

“How was your time with Alexander?” Pez asked with a smirk. A full-on Cheshire cat grin.

Henry looked at him flushed and embarrassed, like a mouse caught in a mousetrap. Pez just laughed.

“He likes you 100%. Just tell himmm,” Pez said, pleading. Henry shook his head, and Pez groaned.

“Nope. No way. Alex is the straightest man in this school! He practically chants it to himself every minute of the bloody day! There’s no way he would say yes.”

“But what if he wasn’t? If he wasn’t, what would you do?” Pez asks. He’s serious now.

“I-er-even t-“

Henry is cut off by June calling them, and Henry quickly sends a prayer of thanks to whoever's up there if there is someone.

“So,” she said as if she was trying to tame piranas, “Apparently, the rooms got fucked up or something. Pez, you are bunking with Nora and me on the 3rdfloor, and Alex, you are bunking with Henry on the 20th floor.” The way she talked reminded Henry of Ellen, her no-bullshit talk.

Henry could practically feel Alex seething beside him, evident anger on his face. Henry put on a cool mask so Alex wouldn’t see the heartbreak behind it.

*~*

“June!”

“Alex.”

“You can’t put me with Fox! He’s gonna drive me insane!” Alex practically screamed. He did not want to be in the same room as Henry. No way.

“I never put you with Henry. The hotel did.”

Alex let out a frustrated grunt but didn’t complain any longer. Deep down, he knew nothing could be done about it, but he still sulked. Henry was staring at him with an expression in his eyes that he just couldn’t decipher, and that angered him impossibly more. Alex takes the keys from June’s palm.

“Come on, Wales, I don’t mind locking you out.” He says, and Henry rolls his eyes. But when he does it, there is a hint of-dare he say-fondness? It makes his heart thump in a slightly concerning way.

Alex walks faster.

Alex can practically feel Henry behind them as they walk, his warmth radiating from him. Why the fuck is he feeling this way? He hates Henry, and yet he can't stop thinking about his stupid soft hair and stupid smile and stupid lips that he wants to kiss-

Oh. Oh.

Alex isn’t stupid, but if he recalls correctly, wanting to kiss someone is definitely not straight. He and Henry are approaching the elevator, but Alex’s brain is a huge chaotic fucking mess. He needs to think; he needs the time to. He knows that if he gets in that elevator with Henry, he willkiss Henry. And as much as he wants to, he needs to process this. He needs something that can ground him. He needs Nora.

“I’m going to take the stairs.” Alex blurts out, and runs toward the stairs. He can hear Henry call him, but it's all background noise. He quickly calls Nora, who answers on the third ring.

“Sup Aleja-”

“Doyouthinkimgay?” He blurts yet again, apparently, that’s all he can do at the moment.

He hears a door shut before Nora speaks again.“Woah, slow down there. I can’t answer that for you, Alejandro. And there’s more than just being gay or straight. You could be bisexual or pansexual or anything else. You don’t even have to use labels.”

Alex sighs. He knows this, but he still can’t help from feeling disappointed. He just wants to tell him what he is this one time. “Yeah I know.”

“Do you like women?” She asks him. It’s a straightforward question, and he is thankful for it. Alex thinks about it for a moment before answering.

“Yes.”

“Do you like men?” She asks, and that makes Alex think. He thinks about how there would be colour in his cheeks when he would leave the boy's change room. He thinks about how he kissed Liam once on a dare and how he liked it. He thinks about Henry, and his breath catches.

“Yes.”

“Well, there’s a 100% chance you’re not straight then. But if it helps, I’m not surprised that you’re calling me. You practically ogle Henry every day.” She says, and Alex protests before they both fall into laughter.

Bisexual. That term feels right. He feels comfortable with it.

“I think I’m bi.” He says.

“I know. Now go suck some British dickkk.” She says casually and hangs up. Alex squawks but then laughs. He realizes that he hasn’t even stepped on the stairs and leaves the stairwell to the elevators. His head is much clearer, and he has a purpose. To tell Henry his feelings for him.

As he heads to his room, he sees Henry outside and immediately freezes. He’s then confused. What is Henry doing out here? The question is on his lips before it dies. The key. Shit.

“Shit man, I’m so sorry. You can shower first or whatever.” He says as he unlocks the door. Henry is more stiff than usual, not replying to Alex. Alex chalks it up to having to wait outside for so long. That’s when they realize that there is only one in this hotel room. Well.

Henry sighs and dumps his bag on the bed. Why is he so pissed?

As Henry walks to the bathroom door, he stops and looks at Alex.

“If you truly didn’t want to go in the elevator with me, you could have just said so.” He says, voice thick with emotion. Alex looks at him stunned, unable to speak, even after Henry closes the bathroom door.

*~*

HENRY POV

As soon as Henry closed the bathroom door, his legs gave out. He sat on the cool marble floor, trying his very best not to cry. He couldn’t cry. Alex would definitely hear him and ask him questions that he didn’t want to answer because he was so fucking afraid about what would happen. He was so bloody afraid of him saying no; he didn’t think his heart could take it.

He was breaking down over Alex, not wanting to take the elevator with him, but it went deeper than that. He’d seen Alex take the elevator with others, but right when he had to go with him, Alex backed out. And waited just for him to go in one so he could go with someone else. Was Henry that repulsive? He wouldn’t put it past himself.

As soon as he heard the hotel door close, Henry allowed himself to cry.

*~*

Taglist:

@thenightgodess-feyrearcheron

@that-sociopathic-hufflepuff

@emikadreams

@highladysith

@cardansfae

@aelin-bitch-queen

@live-the-fangirl-life

@story-scribbler

@themoonthestarsthesuriel

@burdened-by-eternity

@stay-because-now-you-have-a-home

@xunxunny

@whoever-you-choose-to-love

@crazy-random-bookworm-17

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fleetingpieces · 4 years ago

Text

Everything we were CH 4

I was kinda waiting to post the chapters I already have for this fic, but work is keeping me hostage and I couldn’t finish MOIAM and I miss writing, so here ya go

Enjoy some marauders❤️

Special thanks to @knittingdreams for being such an amazing friend and beta❤️

Please check the tags for CW!

Masterlist ¦ Ao3

Chapter 4

“GRYFFINDOR!”

When the Hat announced that to the whole school, Sirius felt the blood leave his face. His thoughts were all jumbled. He had always felt a bit different than the rest of his family, and in the last few years he’d started drifting further and further away from them. But the Blacks had always been in Slytherin. Yes, he had thought about the possibility of this happening, and some part of him actually felt relieved, but it was still a shock to hear. His first reaction was to look up to the Slytherin table, smiling slightly at his cousin. When he saw Narcissa’s fuming glare however, his smile fell and he looked down. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the gryffindors erupted in a wild applause and cheer.

He quickly took the Hat off and walked to the table, feeling dumbstruck, until his eyes found James’ and the boy gave him a thumbs up with a happy grin. Sirius relaxed a fair amount after that, kind of enjoying the bemused faces smiling up at him as he took a place on the bench.

The red haired girl from the train, Evans, was the second student to be placed in Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make some space for her, given that they were now housemates, but as soon as the girl recognized him, she threw a pointed look his way and promptly ignored him. Sirius rolled his eyes. What a stuck up.

Then a boy named Remus Lupin got called to the front and sat down with the Hat, shifting nervously. After only one second, Sirius saw the boy’s body go completely still, his face turning awfully pale. He wondered what the Hat could be telling him. But then the boy got sorted into Gryffindor as well; he came to sit down next to Sirius in a dazed state similar to the one he himself had been in.

Two more girls were consecutively placed in their house. The gryffindors were almost howling at this point, but Lupin was looking down, not noticing anything around them, stuck in his own thoughts. So Sirius decided to take the initiative. They were going to spend basically 7 years together after all.

“Hello.”

He was faced with bright amber eyes, and it was only then that Sirius realized it was the lad from the station. The boy gave him an apprehensive once over, before his eyes stopped at the sleeves of his robes and stayed there. Sirius tilted his head as the silence dragged by. Then Lupin’s head snapped up and he replied shyly.

“Um, hi.”

Sirius smiled, somehow reminded of Regulus. He thought about something to say, but before he could come up with anything interesting, the students around him started cheering again, and a pudgy blond boy sat in front of them. Sirius suddenly thought of James and tried to locate him between the remaining students, finding him just as he was called over by Professor McGonagall.

When James put the Hat on his head, a sudden fear took hold of Sirius. What if James was sorted into another house? They had bonded so quickly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time together if they were in different houses, and what if Sirius couldn’t make other friends?

His thoughts were put at ease fairly quickly though, as James was sorted into Gryffindor as soon as his bum had touched the stool.

The rest of the evening was a breeze of happiness for Sirius, with just a little prick of doubt. He knew his family was a bit obsessed with the snake house and purebloods, but surely they wouldn’t hate him for this. He could still achieve great results at school even if he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never really liked Narcissa anyway, so she could just bugger off. His parents wouldn’t care, right?

However, he forgot all about that uneasiness when they were guided through the castle to the common room, and he and James struck an animated conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. All in all, it was a great start of his school life.

***

There was a draft coming from one of the windows of the big Charms classroom, making Remus shiver. He pulled at the sleeves of his jumper to cover his hands completely, the movement reminding him how uncomfortable he felt in his new uniform. He wasn’t used to clothes like this, most of his wardrobe at home was muggle. Jeans and sweatshirts were so much better than shirts, trousers and Merlin, that damned tie. How the hell was anyone able to make that thing look good and not a rumpled knot was beyond him. The only redeeming fact about the piece of clothing was whatever charm came with it. Remus had been surprised that morning before breakfast, when he’d gone through his trunk and found that his tie and the lines at the cuffs and neck of his jumper had changed from black to bright red and gold. He was faintly aware that he shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but he just couldn’t help but try to figure out which spell was used on the school uniforms.

A loud thump beside him made him look up.

“Man, how did you find the classroom so fast? I’ve been wandering around for ages with those bloody staircases and whatnot. Had to ask a prefect to help me!” Pettigrew ranted, noticing with a weary glance that he was the last one in, but he seemed relieved that the class hadn’t started yet.

Remus gave him a noncommittal hum. He had been avoiding the other boys as much as he could since the feast last night, which wasn’t easy given that apparently all four of them would be sharing a dorm together. It made things so much more complicated. Remus had to take special care to get changed in their private bathroom, he didn’t want any of them seeing his body.

Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something more, but then Professor Flitwick appeared behind the desk, standing on top of a pile of books that didn’t look too steady, if you asked Remus.

“Alright students, please take out your wands,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Today we are going to learn about the Levitation Charm. This charm is an excellent test of your magical skills, wand control, and above all, patience!”

Remus felt the excitement filling him up. Finally, he would be able to try his new wand! He hadn’t dared use it at his house, to risk giving the Ministry an excuse to visit them and find out about him. No, Remus had been very careful and had pushed down on his anxiety.

But now he could finally try his hand at some spells!

Looking up at the Professor with bright eyes, he listened carefully to the explanation, taking in every detail of the demonstration. He actually knew most of the theory already, as he had read about it while at home.

“Now, try it yourselves. Don’t forget to do the right wand movement!”

Remus looked at the big white feather in front of him. To keep the nervousness from showing, he gripped his wand tightly, feeling a warm sensation spreading to his fingers. The students around him were chanting the spell out loud, the swish of wands drifting through the air, whoops of joy when someone got it right.

It’s ok, calm down already, Remus thought to himself.

He squared his shoulders, flicked his wand once…and nothing happened. His eyebrows drew together as he tried again. Nothing. He could clearly hear other students had succeeded already, but his feather was as unmoving as it had been when he’d set it on top of the desk. Maybe he was doing something wrong? After a few more tries with the same result, Remus started panicking. Was he not good enough? Did he have zero magical skill? Would the Headmaster realize he’d made a mistake and send him back home?

Then a darker, scarier thought crossed Remus’ mind. What if it had to do with him being a creature? Was he too much of a monster already that he couldn’t use magic anymore? His condition had taken so much from him already, that he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Remus was scared to look up, but if his lack of magic was a characteristic of his kind, he had to make sure that no other student had noticed. No one could know. Glancing around, he saw Pettigrew waving his wand frantically, sweat forming on his forehead, the white plume in front of him lying lazily on the table. With a tiny bit of hope, he noticed that quite a few students were still having problems, even if most of them seemed to have gotten at least some reaction from their feathers. Except from him and Pettigrew, that is. Apparently, they were the only ones not accomplishing anything.

Remus exhaled a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t a complete monster yet.

The teacher had said they would need patience, so he kept trying and trying, purposefully avoiding to look at Potter and Black, who were making their own quills clash around in the air while laughing. The theory was all in his head, the words and wand movement fresh in his memory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the way magic was supposed to work. The practical part of it was completely new, he had no reference as to what it should be like, as he hadn’t had any way to practice this at home.

Just as the bell rang, Remus felt something clicking in his head. The feather made a turn in the air, making his heart skip a beat, and he smiled happily as it hovered shakily in front of his eyes.

“Merlin, at least you were able to do it in the end,” said Pettigrew with a bitter scowl.

The pudgy boy had only managed to make his quill toss and turn on the table top. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I think yours was taking off that last time.”

Pettigrew's face lit up a bit, and Remus wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Was that comment too friendly?

“Good on you, Lupin!” said a voice from behind them. Remus turned around to face Potter, who had Black sitting right next to him. “A lot of people don’t get it on the first lesson. At least that’s what my Dad said.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if they were making fun of him or not. All the other students were leaving already, the sound of shuffling feet on the hallways filling the air. So he gave Potter a small nod and hurried out as well, leaving the boys slightly stunned. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t know how else to interact with them. It would be better if he didn’t have to do that at all.

The first year gryffindors had some free time before lunch and, thinking about ways to keep himself busy, Remus decided to explore the castle a bit. It really was a pain to get around without getting lost, Remus had only found the classroom by following other students discreetly. He wanted to get acquainted with every hall and passage, and he really wanted to figure out the pattern of those bloody moving staircases. He’d nearly fallen five floors that morning when one of them started moving just as he was getting on.

Remus reached the hallway on the third floor, thinking about how nobody seemed to mention anything about the multiple dangerous things the school housed. Maybe that was why he’d been allowed to attend.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice there was something in his way until he bumped face first into it. Rubbing his nose and cursing under his breath, he looked up to find Avery, the bulky first year from Slytherin, looking down his nose at him.

“Watch where you’re going, you dirty scum.”

The boy was barely a few inches taller than him, but he was wide; his arms were probably three times the size of Remus’. His short dark hair was cut in a way that made his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes harder. Avery had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Remus like he was a piece of meat. Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

The situation reminded him an awful lot of some experiences he’d had with some neighbourhood kids when he and his family had lived in East Sussex. Avery seemed like the kind of mindless bully that would love to pick on Remus just because of his small and scrawny complexion. Those other kids had certainly enjoyed making him their preferred target. But it was precisely because of that, that Remus knew to keep an eye on his surroundings and scurry when necessary. So he went around Avery, muttering a half-hearted apology and trying to move along, but was soon stopped by another figure that came from behind the slytherin.

“What’s the problem here?” a tall boy with platinum hair drawled. Remus contained a whine and looked up, he’d almost gotten away. There was contempt in the bloke’s voice as he looked at Remus. “Who are you?”

Remus silently studied the blonde for a second. The way he held himself, like he was royalty, was similar to Black’s, but different at the same time. His robes were equally expensive, he had a green and silver tie, and a badge pinned to his chest. Of course he was a prefect. Remus had that kind of luck. There was something in the older boy’s pale blue eyes that was making Remus’ hairs stand on end; he looked like he could be trouble, the kind Remus was aiming to avoid as much as possible.

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin?” the prefect sneered. “I’ve heard about your father’s preferences. You are a half-blood.”

It wasn’t a question, so Remus didn’t deign to give him a reply. The way he’d said the last word though, as if it was rotten garbage in his mouth, had Remus frowning. What did that even mean? The bloke was making him nervous, and Remus tried not to shift in place. He didn’t want anyone looking at him that closely, let alone a prefect. No one could know.

“Um, who are you?” his voice sounded smaller than he would have liked, and Avery smirked as the prefect narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Watch your mouth, boy. It’s Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. You’d do well to remember my name.”

As Malfoy took a step forward, a large group of students appeared around the corner, almost bumping into them when they filled the whole corridor. Remus decided to use that chance to get away before things could get worse, and as the students walked past he blended in with them and disappeared into another hallway. He’d learn to recognize when someone was best to avoid, and Malfoy was definitely someone he didn’t want to cross paths with more than necessary.

Remus walked fast, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, and went in the first room he could find. Closing the door behind him, he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It was his first day of school, and he’d already had to escape from some possible bullies. He wasn’t kidding himself, the kids from his old neighbourhood had no idea why Remus was so weird, but he knew the students at Hogwarts would be able to tell if he showed enough signs, if they saw his scars. He hoped running away hadn’t made things worse.

Sighing, Remus opened his eyes again and was stunned to see where he’d ended up in his haste.

Books.

Thousands of books, right in front of him, neatly organized on shelves. He glanced around with his mouth slightly open. Rows and rows of bookcases, going from one wall to the other, filled the room. There were only a handful of windows that filtered the morning light, giving the space a calm atmosphere. A few students were sitting on the tables scattered all over the big room, but everything was so very quiet; the only sounds were those of quills going over parchment and pages turning.

Remus walked ahead, his eyes glued to all those old volumes, until he reached the front desk and a woman with a deep scowl appeared in his line of sight.

“Are you lost?” she barked.

She was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there. Remus felt himself shrink under that look, but the temptation was too much to just let it slide.

“No, um…are we allowed to borrow any of these books?” He knew that his eyes were wide, probably making him look a bit insane, but he couldn’t erase the expression from his face. To his surprise, the woman’s glare dimmed a little bit. Not enough to make her look less scary though.

“You can borrow any book, except for those on the Restricted Section.” She pointed to the back of the library, where a rope separated some books from the rest. “You’ll need a signed note from a teacher to have one of those checked out. The other books you can read here or take out of the library, if you get my permission first. But I warn you, if you tear, fold, smear or damage these books in any way, the consequences will be quite severe.”

She fixed him with a stern look, and Remus smiled shyly.

“I will be very careful, I promise.”

The librarian looked mildly surprised, but Remus wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring in awe at all the knowledge sitting in the room, waiting for him to dig into it. The charm they’d learned that morning had been harder than he’d expected, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out now. Maybe he could find a corner of the library to tuck himself away and practice some more. He could even find out which spells they would be learning, and try to learn them ahead of time to avoid himself more embarrassment. Remus hoped that if he practiced enough, he would be able to understand magic better and struggle less. Smiling to himself, he set off to explore the tall shelves.

#everything we were #eww #fanfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #Remus Lupin #remus x sirius #Sirius x Remus #Sirius Black #Marauders #marauder era #hp marauders #marauders fic #hogwarts #cw: slurs #cw: mention of bullying

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bitchiha · 4 years ago

Note

The Boxing prompt with Kiba !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All bark and no bite (The Rats 900 follower celebration!)

A/N: YAYAYAYAY HERE YOU GO SHAWTY!!! I was actually hoping Kiba would get this one and if he didn’t I already started a draft of it so he was gonna get one either way HSJAJSJS

Warnings: eventual NSFW, swearing, violence lol but non explicit its just describing the fight, also I just really exaggerated the money shawty Kiba makes from his fights because I wanted him to just fuck around and splurge LOL

There were two sides of Kiba Inuzuka: his bark and his bite.

If you were unfamiliar with the famous fighter - which would be highly unlikely considering he’s a goddamn star on the streets - then your first impression of Kiba would be that he was like a harmless Chihuahua, not at all like his fighting name that was plastered on posters on every street corner. The Wolf.

But to the newbies in the betting pools who are only doing it to satisfy their sketchy bosses, I mean come on... kids gotta be all bark and no bite, right? Besides all the good fighters are the quiet stoic ones... And Kibas done a good job of doing the exact opposite. Running his mouth with all his cocky smack talk any chance he could get, spitting teasing remarks about his opponents days leading up to the fight.

“What? That twig? I’ll beat his ass in my sleep.”

“Pffft. Not worried at all.”

“Oh thanks for reminding me, I forgot what that guys name was.”

So the newbies to the betting pools and underground fighting rings place their back-alley bets on his opponents victory.

They’re always confident with their bets too, some placing large wagers, completely confident in Kibas downfall or hoping to impress their bosses. It’s not the newbies faults though, they’ve never done this kinda thing before. They all go to fucking Cape Cod every summer in their vineyard vines shirts, thry don’t know shit about the underground world.

Plus, Kiba’s one of the youngest fighters, he's only been an adult for a couple years. He doesn’t even know how to act when he gets his wads of cash after fights, spending it on fancy cars and designer clothes. Compare that to the scruffy looking men in their late twenties built like refrigerators and you can see where their heads were at.

Getting into their front row seats, (they figured they were gonna get that money back with the bet, so why not splurge for some good seats? See their bet unfold before them...) Their confidence only solidifies watching Kiba approach the ring in his silk purple robe, basking in the cheers with a toothy grin. He was lean and clearly fit, the untied silk robe exposing his abs and muscled legs.

As the cheers of the Wolf die down, the announcer calls out his opponent. It was a Russian name that was very butchered, but no one could pay attention to that as the guy walked out from the opposite side of the stadium. Another spark of smugness swept over the newbies as they gawked at the opponent. He was a bulky man, at least 6′3, this Inuzuka kid looked like a fucking kid compared to that hulking guy. They were so winning that bet. One of them turns towards the occupant of the seat next to him, gaining the courage to finally talk to the absolute hottie and asks if he could take her to real nice french restaurant a couple blocks away after the match (with his newly won money of course.)

She declines effortlessly, that smug smirk mirrored on her own face. He thought to call her a bitch or something, pissed off with how she just brushed him off like that, but the bell rang and sliced away all the chatter and signalling the start of the match. The newbies go completely still as they watch Kibas demeanor shift from that little barking Chihuahua and into a frothing wolf.

With his boxing gloves strapped on tight, mouth guard secured and the crowd chanting his infamous name (yourself included), he starts dodging punches like its a simple dance. Everything boyish about him is gone and as he throws his first punch, the Russian man unable to block it, the newbies get their first real taste of the Wolf.

It was like he was untouchable. Now the rookies realize why nobody objected to their large wagers against him, why they did their best to hide their own bets. They didn’t agree with them, they were just conning their way into debting up some newbies, so they could be just like the rest of them.

Kiba’s giant opponent barely landed any punches. Whenever it seemed like he was gonna land one his opponent immediately blocked it and got his own touch in. It was kind of comedical, watching such a buff and intimidating man struggling so hard, especially after the Russian was the one who challenged him to the fight. Something about how he was tired of the Inuzuka’s attitude and how he needed to get put in his place? So many others said the same thing it was kind of annoying at this point. Kiba just wanted to get the cash and to go fuck his girl.

Not too long after it starts Kiba has already won the match, he lets the announcer grab his arm and raise it up to the crowd in triumph, before slipping through the roped enclosure and stalking towards you. He offered to shake the bloody mans hand in the ring, but he just ignored him (or he couldn’t see, Kiba wasn’t sure.) That predatory look was still in his eyes as he pulled you into a sweaty kiss and as you pull away you have to wipe the blood from under his nose, despite the other fighter not getting much hits, the ones he did get in were painful.

The crowd is whooping and once again chanting his name, but the newbies remain seated and watch utterly deflated. Seeing his big grin up close, they realized his canines were sharper than they had initially thought.

Then there was his bark of course, too. And Kiba barked a lot. He always wants you dressed in the most expensive fur (faux!! this is kiba we are talking about) coats, Chanel purses and gold and diamond jewelry... He’s well dressed too, with real gold chains (the subtle ones) and of his own and rings and watches. Hell even your pet dogs have designer collars. What he loves the most is his cars though.

His bark is important to him because up until a couple years ago all he has was bite, his bark measley and mouse-ish, you still loved him then though. But look at the two of you now?

After the match he’ll get you into one of his sports cars and have you count the cash he earned as he speeds through the city. One hands gripping your thigh, squeezing it with a smirk everytime you count another thousand. All that cash from one fucking match and he can’t wait to spend it all.

The two of you’ll blow half of it at that fancy restaurant that loser had proposed to take you to, barely keeping your hands off each other for more than five minutes. Your ordering shit you can’t even pronounce and he keeps whispering in your ear about how he can’t wait to fuck his favourite little good luck charm. He’s pressing some sort of tiny dessert into your mouth and after you eat it he’s making you lick his fingers and then you do the same thing to him. You two are like the nights entertainment for the other tables, but neither of you really give a fuck.

Dishes and glasses pile up on the table and the waiters become skeptical of how you two are going to pay for all of this, but your his last table before the end of his shift so he doesnt question the large wads of cash tossed on the table, then another one a few moments later as a tip.

Your back in his sports car and the engine is revving as you speed through the busy streets, ignoring the blaring horns of other cars because like I said before, neither of you really give a fuck. You two think you’re goddamn invincible.

Stumbling up the driveway to your shared mansion you can hear the dogs barking through one of the floor to ceiling windows. Kiba opens the door and your dogs run out to greet you jumping and licking at your faces, only to lead them into the backyard as you to run up the stairs to your bedroom.

One of your heels is still on and the other is downstairs somewhere, or maybe it’s in the backyard? Kiba’s shirt is half unbuttoned and he’s trying to shed the rest of them while unzipping your dress (you got mad at him the last time he ripped your dress off.) It’s all frantic and hazy, like it always is. Everything is just so intoxicating after he’s won a match.

Once your out of your dress he’s shoving you to the bed and as you crawl onto it he follows suit, settling right on top of you as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He’s devouring every curve and crevice of your mouth and then he’s rutting his clothed cock against your stomach and growling into your mouth and your whimpering because your panties are absolutely drenched.

You’re trying to take off his belt as he continues exploring your tongue, even though it feels more like he’s trying to go down your throat. There’s spit pooling down your chin and you don’t know if its yours or his, its a mixture of both and either way he has no problem with licking it off your face. Managing to take his belt off he pulls away to do the rest on his own. That look was back on his face now, the one he always had when he was in the ring.

Despite how much Kiba tries to deny it, his bite was still much bigger than his bark. That’s just natural for the Wolf.

#kiba inuzuka x reader #Kiba Inuzuka #kiba x reader #naruto headcanons #the rats 900 celebration

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celest1all · 4 years ago

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forgive me | draco x reader

request; Hey! Can you do this draco x reader maybe a muggle AU (not necessary) where they had a really bad fight and the reader goes in a cab to her house but she realizes that the driver is trying to kidnapper like maybe she starts getting dizzy and disoriented so she calls draco and although they had had a row he is really worried and saves her You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to Thanks!!! And sorry English is not my first language :)

warnings; angst, shouting, swearing, fluff, hurt/comfort

a/n; i may have strayed away from this request, but i kind of got carried away, whoops. thankyou for this <3

> masterlist <

•••••••

The rain pattered down against the window of one of the many, many rooms in Malfoy Manor. Usually you would be able to hear the sound of the water droplets hitting the glass, but not today. Oh no, all you heard was shouting and screaming. All coming from your’s and Draco’s mouths.

Draco had been extremely off with you recently, he barely talked to you and when he did he would always reply with short answers; “I gotta go” or your particular favourite, “I’m busy, Y/N.”

Not only did he not talk to you, he also reverted back to his old ways of glaring at you down the coridoor’s at Hogwarts. The places you two used to share a kiss when no one was looking, was now replaced with sneers and stares.

So you brought him up on it. And he didn’t like that at all, not one bit.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You narrowed your eyes at him and shook your head. He knew that it was a question there was no answer to, so decided to walk around his bedroom. The bedroom you two have spent so many hours in. Hours of fun, happiness, love and pleasure. But those were just a distant memory now — being long forgotten.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? Hm?” He shouted back with just as much power. “That I got bored of being around you twenty four seven?”

You felt your stomach drop at his words, not expecting him to have said something like that. “You were on my arm all the time and it was bloody annoying! At one point, I wanted Pansy to be draping herself all over me instead of you!”

You froze. Draco knew how you felt about Pansy and how always compared yourself to her. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she pretty, she was like a walking goddess in green and silver robes. She was funny, smart and — even if she didn’t come across it — really nice. She was everything you wished you could be.

“What?” You whispered, all the breath in your lungs had apparently disappeared. Draco’s face fell when he finally clocked onto what he just said, regret taking over his features.

The wizard starting spitting out excuses, apologies — he even tried blaming it on you for a second— before you cut him off. “I’m done.”

You grabbed your coat and began making your way to his bedroom door. You were probably about five centimetres away when you felt his hand wrap around you wrist, pulling you around to face you.

“What do you — what do you mean you’re done?” He asked, with a hint of worry lacing his words. “With me or the argument??”

You sighed and looked up into his eyes, “You decide, Draco.”

With that, you walked out of his bedroom and out of Malfoy Manor. Luckily for you, you didn’t actually have that far to walk since your house was the only other house near Draco’s.

The cold winter air nipped at your nose as you walked to your home, making you want to cry even more. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t allow yourself to cry. Because you knew if you did, you wouldn’t stop.

But you were scared. Merlin, you were scared. You were scared for Draco and what the mark on his arm meant for him, scared that your relationship had just ended and scared for your family and friends lives.

Before you knew it, you arrived at the familiar black-painted door which you had grown to hate over the years. For some reason, you had a slight nagging feeling your stomach — like something wasn’t right. However, you dismissed it due to the fact you just had a huge argument with the love of your life.

You carried on into your house and hung up your coat. The first thing you realised that your parents were probably still at the Ministry of Magic or making ther way back, and the second thing you realised was that it was abnormally quiet. Too quiet.

Logically, you knew that there was most likely nothing wrong or no impending doom, but you weren’t known for your logical thinking. Hence the reason you walked up the stairs to your bedroom, trying to ignore the feeling of immediate danger.

By now, all logic had been thrown out the window as your mind began replaying yours and Draco’s argument. You were so caught up in reliving it through your brain, that you didn’t even notice that there was someone in your bedroom. They were hidden, but they were still there. Waiting for the right moment to strike.

Which was now. Or so they thought.

In the nick of time, you had managed to dive behind your bed before whoever it was had successfully used the Cruciatus Curse on you.

You were still unaware of who they were, but you certainly weren’t going to hang about and ask them about their bloody backstory.

You sensed that the mystery person was waiting for you, so you decided to make the first move. Or rather, you threw something their way so it sounded like you moved. Thankfully, they fell for it — whoever this person was, they weren’t that bright — giving you the perfect window of opportunity.

“Petrificus Totalus!” You waited a few seconds just to make sure that the spell had worked, before moving from your hiding spot.

You peeked around the corner of your bed to see the not-so-hidden intruder laying on the floor, stiff. Which you expected, obviously, but what you didn’t expect was to see none other than Draco Malfoy making his way up your stairs.

You blinked quickly as if he would disappear, but he didn’t.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N!” His mouth was wide open with shock as he stared down at the body on the floor.

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You looked down at the person, finally getting a good look at who he was. You didn’t recognise him, but you theorised that it was either one of You-Know-Who’s followers, or someone your parents pissed off. Either way, you weren’t too pleased with the outcome.

“Do you recognise him?” You asked, now looking at Draco intently. He shook his head at you, still slightly shocked.

“I’m sorry.” You apologised after a few seconds of silence.

“No,” The wizard shook his head and manouvered his way around the person on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things about you or Pansy, or anything for that matter.” He sighed, taking your hands into his own. “I was being a dick by ignoring you—”

“And sneering at me in the corridoors.” You added, raising your eyebrows at him.

“And sneering at you in the corridoors. Point is, I was bloody idiot, and I’m sorry. I understand if you won’t forgive me, Y/N.” He rubbed your knuckles, something he always used to do.

“I forgive you.” You smiled softly up at him, looking into his eyes. For a moment, you almost forgot there was somebody else in the moment. Almost. “Bloody hell!”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed in worry, “What is it?”

You pointed to the man on the floor and shouted, “Get him the fuck out of here!” Malfoy’s eyes widened in realisation and nodded quickly, already dragging him out of your bedroom.

“Don’t forget to use The Memory Charm as well!” You yelled after him.

You heard him chuckle lightly and say, “Of course, love.” You shook your head at his antics and sat down on your bed, finally feeling a little bit happier with you’re life.

In the end, forgiveness is a virtue.

tag list; @accio-rogers / @angelinathebook / @strawberriesonsummer / @theojuicee / @coldlilheart

if you would like to be on the tag list, feel free to ask <3

#draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagines #angst #draco malfoy x you #reader insert #requested #request

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years ago

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14. Family Squabbles

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x20; Dead Man’s Blood

Word Count: 7,603

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, arguing

Author’s Note: Introducing Luke Alexander! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia popped a fry into her mouth and wiped her greasy fingers before looking back at her laptop, reading an email that her Aunt Maggie had sent to her, Abby, and Beth. It was her monthly update with what was going on with PSC; earnings, new contracts, and employee turnaround. Julia didn't know much about what went into keeping a business but she knew enough to know what Maggie was talking about in her emails without having to look it up in a dictionary.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean reach for one of her fries; she swatted his hand away and ignored the pout he gave her in return. Fries were her favorite and she would only share them on certain occasions. A random weekday didn't count.

Dean sighed and folded the newspaper he was reading. "Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska," he told them before addressing Sam, "What have you got?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota..." Sam said from behind his laptop. "Here—a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived."

Julia raised her eyebrows while Dean cocked his head. "That sounds more like 'that's incredible' than 'the Twilight Zone'."

Sam sighed and continued his search. "Yeah."

"Hey, you know, we could just keep heading east. New York, upstate," Dean suggested. "Could stop by and see Sarah again, huh. She's a cool chick, man, smokin'," he whistled playfully. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

Julia grinned when Sam perked up, a little flustered. "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday," he placated his brother. "In the meantime, we got a lot of work to do, Dean, you know that."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded. "What else you got?"

"Uh, a man in Colorado," Sam studied his screen. "A local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home. It sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now they've found some signs of robbery."

Julia perked up when she recognized the name. Her dad had known a man named Danny Elkins way back when she was a kid. They had a falling out of some sort but Luke still held him in high regard and made sure he was supplied with anything he needed from PSC.

"My dad knew a Danny Elkins," she told the brothers as Dean pulled out John's journal.

"I think my dad knew him, too," Dean flipped toward the part of the journal where John kept his hunter contacts. "Here—D. Elkins."

He pointed out the contact, which included a phone number, to Sam and Julia.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You guys think it's the same Elkins?"

"If both of our dads knew a Danny Elkins, it makes sense," Julia shrugged, closing her laptop. "Plus, that's a Colorado area code."

Sam looked from Julia to Dean, who nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Let's check it out."

Daniel Elkins lived in a secluded cabin up in the mountains and, according to the bartender at the place he frequented every week, he was a bit of a shut-in. Despite the fact that it was July, it was chilly up in the mountains and starting to snow a little.

They had to pick the lock to get into the cabin and since Julia didn't have much experience with that, Sam and Dean made sure that she was the one to do it this time. It took her a few tries but she eventually unlocked the door.

"Good job, shortcake," Dean patted her ass when Sam stepped into the cabin and then followed in behind him. He turned on his flashlight and started looking around. "Well, looks like the maid didn't come today."

Julia stepped into the cabin, lighting her own flashlight. She wandered off into a different room as Sam stayed by the door, observing some of the salt on the ground, and entered the study. It was an absolute disaster; with most of the furniture splintered into pieces, papers and books all over the place, and various collectibles knocked over everywhere.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right beside the door," Sam called from the front room.

"You mean protection-against-demon salt or whoops-I-spilled-the-popcorn salt?" Dean called back from the room he was looking through.

"It's clearly a ring," Julia heard Sam say as she picked up an empty wooden case that used to hold a gun and its bullets. "Do you think this Elkins guy was a player?"

"Definitely!" Julia spoke up loud enough so the boys could hear her.

"He's got a journal here, Jules!" Dean replied back. "Dates back to the sixties."

"Ooh," Julia whispered under her breath; that would be interesting to read.

Finished with searching their rooms, Sam and Dean entered the room where Julia was looking around. Sam's eyes immediately went to the broken skylight. "Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one."

Dean nodded, looking at the wooden case that Julia had discarded on the messy desk. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too."

Julia made a noise of agreement as she continued to slowly step over some of the debris. She paused when her light flashed over some blood and when she took a closer look, she saw that there were some scratches in the wooden floors.

"You got something, J?" Sam noticed her crouching down next to the scratches.

"I think so," Julia nodded. "Hey, can you get me a pencil and some paper?"

Dean quickly grabbed some supplies from the messy desk and handed them over to her. Julia slapped the paper over the scratches, making sure it was flush with the floor, and then scribbled over it with a pencil, marking out whatever Elkins scratched into the wood.

She picked it up when she was finished, reading the letters and numbers that she deciphered. "It's a message."

Dean took the bloody paper from her. "Well, that looks familiar," he showed it to Sam. "Three letters, six digits."

"The location and combination of a post office box," Sam realized. "It's a mail drop."

Dean nodded. "Just the way Dad does it."

After dropping by the local post office and getting into Elkins' mail drop box, Julia, Sam, and Dean went and rented out a motel room. The letter they had discovered in the drop box was written out to a J.W, which just so happened to be John Winchester's initials. Julia didn't think it was a coincidence but Sam and Dean were a little skeptical.

"J.W," Sam sighed, looking over at the envelope Dean held in his hands. "You think it's for Dad?"

"I don't know," Dean studied the initials, looking as if the writing would jump out at him. "Should we open it?"

Before Julia or Sam could answer him, there was a knock on the motel door. The three of them stiffened and Dean dropped the envelope on the table before grabbing his gun to walk over to the door. He aimed it at the door as he reached for the knob and twisted, opening it just a crack so he could see who was on the other side.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was and he opened the door all the way. "Dad? Luke?"

John Winchester and Luke Alexander made their way into the motel room, shocking Julia and Sam. They both looked a little tired but other than that, they seemed healthy.

Julia silently stared at her father. She hadn't seen him in almost a year and even though she loved him, she had been suppressing some anger toward him for a long time now, especially after what happened to Levi and the fact that he just took off again.

Growing up, Julia and Luke had a good relationship despite the fact that he was gone most of the year, hunting supernatural creatures. Luke had always been closest to Abby, his little protégé, but he loved each of his children in his own ways. He was a strict father but still loving and he loved Naomi to death. When she died, he became distant but he still kept in contact. All that had changed the beginning of Julia's senior year at Stanford.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Sam asked John, standing up from the table. "Are you guys all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," John assured his youngest son. "We read the news about Daniel. We got here as fast as we could. We saw you three at his place."

Julia narrowed her eyes at her dad, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact with her. She couldn't believe that he would come all the way to some random cabin in Colorado but didn't have the decency to attend his own son's memorial or make sure that his daughters were okay.

"Why didn't you guys come in?"

"You know why," John said pointedly. "Because we had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone or anything. Nice job covering your tracks, by the way."

Surprisingly, his comment wasn't at all sarcastic.

Dean grinned proudly. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best."

Julia couldn't contain her anger anymore. Not when everyone was acting so casual about John and Luke's reappearance. "So, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" she caught everyone's attention with the sharpness in her voice; it wasn't like her at all to speak that way to anyone. "but you couldn't extend the same courtesy for Levi? For your son?"

Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jujube—"

"No, don't do that!" Julia stood up abruptly, causing Dean and Sam to exchange a knowing look; Dean slowly started moving toward her, hoping she wouldn't direct her ire at him. "Levi died, Dad! He died and you were no where in sight. Oh wait," she scoffed bitterly. "I forgot. You were in Chicago but you decided it was best not to see how the rest of your family was doing!"

Only inches away from her, Dean placed a warm hand on her back, trying to calm her down. "Jules..."

Luke was in the wrong, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let his daughter yell at him like that. Especially in front of other people. "Don't you talk to me like that, Julia Ruth," he pointed at her, his eyes hardening. "I'm still your father and you will show me some respect."

Julia scoffed, tears coming to her eyes. She angrily brushed them away, cursing her overreactive tear ducts. "You don't deserve it," she spat, pushing away Dean's hand as he tried to grab her waist. "You abandoned your family!"

Luke took a threatening step forward and Julia recognized the look in his eyes. She had seen it many times before when she or Abby stepped out of line and got into trouble. It was look he gave when he was two seconds away from whooping their asses.

Luckily, Dean came to her rescue. "Okay, that's enough," he said sternly, firmly grabbing her waist, pulling her to her and Sam's bed, and sitting her down. He gave Luke a glare, too, expressing all of his anger into it for Julia's sake. "You too, Luke. Both of you calm down."

Luke glared back at him but calmed down when John patted his shoulder.

"All right," John sighed and gave Julia a sympathetic look that surprised her. "We need to focus. Dean, can I look at that letter?"

Not letting go of Julia's shoulders, Dean nodded at the letter where he set it on the table. John picked it up and opened the envelope as Sam came to sit by Julia on their bed, grabbing her hand to calm her down.

"If you're reading this, I'm already dead..." John read the letter, trailing off when he came across something shocking. "That son of a bitch."

Luke gave him a questioning look. "What is it?"

John handed him the letter. "He had it the whole time."

"What?"

Luke quickly read the letter and then looked at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique, a colt revolver? Did you see it?"

"There was an old case," Julia told him, wiping her tears and swallowing her anger in order to talk to him. "but it was empty."

John sighed angrily. "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean wondered.

John nodded. "We gotta pick up their trail."

"Wait," Sam looked at him in shock. "You want us to help you?"

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun."

"The gun?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why," John said sharply.

Sam sighed. "Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best," Luke spoke up. "Vampires."

"Vampires," Dean's grip on Julia's shoulders tightened. "I thought there was no such thing."

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," Sam pointed out.

"We thought they were extinct," John explained. "We thought that Elkins and others had wiped them out. We were wrong."

"Most vampire lore is wrong," Luke took a seat at the table where Julia, Sam, and Dean were previously sitting. "A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. The bloodlust, though, that's true. They need fresh human blood to survi-ve. They were once people so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

Julia pursed her lips and shared a look with Sam, both of them concerned with the unknowns of what was happening. Vampires now existed, their dads were searching for some random gun that the vampires stole from Elkins, and they didn't even know why the gun was so special that Elkins left a letter for John in the event of his death.

She was unsettled already by her dad's presence but now, with all this new information, it was worse. She wrinkled her nose and bowed her head, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her again. Dean had pretty much calmed her down for the moment but her anger was still simmering inside her. There were three things she did while she was angry; cried, gave whoever she was angry at the silent treatment, or act petty.

This time, she was going with silent treatment.

A harsh pat on the end of her bed by her feet woke Julia up from her deep sleep. She could hear Luke and John talking and the hum of a police radio but her mind was trying to catch up to the fact that she was now awake. Sam groaned from next to her and hit her in the shoulder when he stretched out his arms, making her groggily groan in pain.

"Sam, Dean, Julia, wake up," John barked at them; Julia sat up to see that he and Luke were shrugging on their jackets. "Let's go."

Still half-asleep, Dean sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. "Mmhm."

"What happened?" Sam sighed.

"We picked up a police call," Luke stated, making sure his weapon was loaded. "A couple called 9-1-1, found a body in the street. When the cops got there, everyone was missing."

"It's the vampires," John added.

Sam slowly sat up, groaning. "How do you know?"

"Just follow us, okay?" John said impatiently as Luke opened the door, heading out after the older man.

Julia moaned as she stretched, getting the sleepiness out of her joints, and hopped up to her feet. She had fallen asleep in the leggings and t-shirt she wore the day before, so she simply pulled on her boots and her navy-blue canvas jacket, making sure all her weapons were ready to go.

"Huh, vampires," Dean scoffed groggily, getting up from his bed. "It gets funnier every time I hear it."

A half-hour later, the sun was rising as John and Luke questioned the police gathered around the abandoned car. The two older men had been adamant about having Julia, Sam, and Dean stay back while they did their work, leaving Julia and Sam feeling frustrated.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with them," Sam grumbled from his place against the hood of the Impala.

While Julia nodded in agreement, Dean gave him a calculative look. "Oh, don't tell me it's already starting."

As John and Luke started making their way back to them, Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Dean. "What's starting?

Dean just shook his head and turned to the older hunters. "What'd you get?"

"It was them, all right," John confirmed for them. "Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?"

Dean gave his brother a warning look. "Sam..."

"I just want to know that we're going in the right direction," Sam defended himself.

John clenched his jaw. "We are."

"How do you know?" Sam challenged him.

John sighed and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling something out and handing it to Dean. "I found this."

Julia silently looked over as Dean flipped over the sharp tooth between his fingers. "It's a vampire fang."

"Not fangs, teeth," Luke corrected him. "The second set descends when they attack."

John gave Sam a hard look. "Any more questions?"

Sam didn't speak but glared down at the gravel at their feet.

"All right," John spoke when he was sure Sam wasn't going to backtalk. "let's get out of here. We're losing daylight."

It was early in the morning and the sun had just set so Julia knew that John was just being an asshole.

He proved her theory correct when he passed by the Impala and commented, "Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

Julia scoffed quietly as John and Luke got into their truck, glaring at the former. Dean took better care of Baby then he did himself. There was no way rust was getting anywhere near the treasured Impala. Dean would rather die.

Sam gave his brother an I-told-you-so look while Dean just smiled awkwardly and shrugged in embarrassment. The three of them got into the Impala, with Sam driving, and started following John's truck to make their way past the detour.

"You take great care of Baby, Dean," Julia assured him, reaching forward to pat his shoulder twice. "Don't listen to your dad."

"Eh, maybe he's right," Dean shrugged as he grabbed Daniel Elkins' journal from the dashboard.

"No, he's not," she insisted.

Sam nodded in agreement. "She's right, Dean."

"All right, all right," Dean sighed and tossed the Elkins journal to Julia. "Find some info on the vamps, would you, shortcake?"

Julia, who caught the journal easily, nodded and started flipping through the pages until she saw the start of the section about vampires.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten," she read out loud so Sam and Dean could hear her. "Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks."

"Ugh," Dean grimaced. "I wonder if that's what happened to the 9-1-1 couple."

"That's probably what Dad is thinking," Sam muttered sourly. "Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"So," Dean gave his brother a thoughtful look. "it is starting."

Sam glanced at him confused. "What?"

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year," Dean pointed out. "Now we're with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?"

"No," Sam huffed. "Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again..."

"Well, good," Dean thought that he was finished. Julia knew better, though; Sam was itching to make the fact that he was annoyed with John bossing them around known.

"It's just the way he treats us," he blurted out. "Like we're children."

Dean groaned. "Oh, here we go."

"He barks orders at us, Dean," Sam raised his voice to try to make a point. "He expects us to follow them without question. He keeps us on some fucking need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason," Dean argued, matching Sam's volume.

"What reason?"

"Our job!" Dean exclaimed. "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things. Luke does it, too."

"Yeah and look at what a great father my dad is," Julia spoke up. "Look, I agree with Sam. You guys are grown men and he should treat you like it."

While Dean gave her an annoyed look, Sam nodded, glad that she was backing him up. "It doesn't work anymore," he agreed. "Not after everything that the three of us have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him and Luke run the whole show?"

Dean pressed his lips together and looked at Sam. "If that's what it takes."

There was something in the way that Dean said those words that had Julia doubting that he didn't mind John taking charge. Over the last year, Dean had been the one in charge; he was the oldest, what he said goes. More than likely, he didn't like giving up his control, especially when his dad treated him like a kid and not the twenty-seven-year-old man he was.

Nevertheless, Dean gave nothing else away. They continued driving through Colorado throughout the whole day, with little to no breaks. It was well past dark when John called Dean to inform him of their next move.

"Yeah, Dad, I got it," Dean confirmed before hanging up the phone and turning to Sam. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why?"

"Cause Dad and Luke think that we've got the vampires' trail."

"How?"

Julia winced at Sam's furious tone; John Winchester sure did know how to bring the best out in his sons.

"I don't know. He didn't say."

Sam stomped on the gas pedal, revving the engine. They shot forward, speeding from their current place behind John's truck until they were passing it. Once Sam was sure they were a safe enough distance ahead of their fathers, he abruptly pulled out into the middle of the road, cutting John and Luke off.

"Shit," Julia breathed in shock, pressing her hand against her racing heart. As Sam pushed open his door, she protested, "Sam, no!"

"Fuck, here we go," Dean muttered, getting out of the Impala to run interference between his dad and Sam. "Sam, stop!"

Just as Julia was getting out of the car, John barreled out of his truck and up to Sam, a furious look on his face. "What the fuck was that?"

"We need to talk."

"About what?" John stopped in front of Sam when there was only about three inches between them.

Luke got out of the passenger seat of the truck and leaned against it, watching what was going on with raised eyebrows. He shot Julia a look but she steadily ignored him, watching Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

"About everything," Sam said firmly. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q-and-A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tried to interject.

"Your brother's right. We don't have time for this."

"Last time we say you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help," Sam raised his voice. "Obviously something big is going down and we wanna know what!"

John gave him a stone-cold glare. "Get back in the car."

"No."

"I said get back in the fucking car."

"Yeah, and I said no!" Sam yelled.

Before the argument could escalate any further, Julia and Dean stepped in. Julia grabbed Sam's arm and forcefully tugged him a few feet away from his dad, standing her ground when he tried to fight her.

"Okay, you made your point, tough guy," Dean told his little brother as he pushed on his dad's chest to get him to back away. "Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later."

"Come on, Sam," Julia said encouragingly. "Let it go for now."

Sam shook his head, still glaring at his father. "This is why I left in the first place."

John lunged forward, pressing against Dean's hold on him; Luke jumped into the fray, holding his friend back. "What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah, you left!" John reminded him scathingly. "Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away. You walked away!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean called as Sam broke loose from Julia's grasp, stalking straight up to John. Dean immediately pushed him back while Luke continued to try to pull John away.

"You were the one who said don't come back, Dad," Sam shouted, tears in his eyes. "You closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

Julia shook her head, feeling three angry energies clashing back and forth. Sam was getting more and more riled up and John was the source of the Winchester temper so he was no better. Dean was angry because he just got his family back together and it was splitting apart already. It was too much anger and, added with her own, Julia was having a hard time keeping her composure while Sam needed her. She had to stay calm, though. She—and her dad, really—were the only ones who could right now.

She took a deep breath, calming herself down, and stomped forward, gripping both of Sam's arms to pull him away from John. "Stop it!" she yelled firmly. "Stop it right now! That's enough!"

Dean saw an opportunity when Julia got Sam to back up a couple of inches; he forced himself in between his brother and his father, making sure that they were far enough apart once again.

"That means you too," Dean added to John with a glare.

"Come on, John," Luke grunted, pulling John back toward the truck.

Sam ripped his arms away from Julia and stomped to the Impala, slamming the driver's door shut behind him. Julia and Dean shared with look of exasperation with each other; it'd only been a day and the duo of Sam and John Winchester would be the death of them.

"Fucking terrific," Dean grumbled under his breath as he and Julia joined Sam in the car.

Julia, Sam, Dean, Luke, and John crouched in the woods only a couple hundred feet from the old barn where the vampire nest was living. They had been there for a half-hour already but there was no activity until an old car drove up and parked next to the other ones. A vampire got out and another vampire opened the barn door for him, neither one of them affected by the sun's rays.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore, shaking his head as the second vampire closed up the barn once again. "So, they're really not afraid of the sun?"

Luke shook his head. "Direct sunlight hurts them like a nasty sunburn," he told them. "The only way to kill them is by beheading."

"And just because they sleep in the day doesn't mean they won't wake up," John added.

Julia hummed. "So, I'm guessing just walking in isn't our best option."

"Actually," John grinned at her, showing off his Winchester dimples. "that's the plan."

The five of them left their hiding place and made their way back to where the truck and Impala were parked. Even though the truck was only a couple years older than Baby, its weapon outfit was much nicer. It buzzed as it mechanically opened, holding numerous weapons in a neatly organized way.

"Come here, baby girl," Luke waved Julia over to their weapons; Julia hesitantly walked over, knowing that now really wasn't the time to be angry with her dad. "This is for you."

Luke pulled a brand-new machete out of the weapons storage, complete with its own holster. It was slightly shorter than the ones that he and John were using but it was pretty and it'd get the job done—well, she had never beheaded anything but she assumed her dad wouldn't give the machete to her unless it would do the work.

She knew this was some sort of truce between them. For the moment, Luke wanted her to set aside her anger so they could trust each other and have one another's back. He had done this many times growing up; when he missed her ninth birthday, Luke had come home from his hunt with a set of brand-new daggers. She easily forgave him and still used them to this day. Usually her problems with her dad didn't disappear but she wasn't perfect and she loved presents. What little girl didn't?

For now, she'd accept the truce. She took the machete from him with a small smile. "Thanks, Dad."

So much for the silent treatment.

Luke grinned and tugged on the end of her French braid like he used to do when she was a girl. "There's my girl."

Julia gave him a closed-mouth smile and went back to Sam and Dean, holding it out for them to look at it. Dean was more impressed than Sam was, holding it up and mimicking an attack, slicing through the air with the blade. She couldn't help but laugh when he grinned happily and gave it back to her.

"So," John spoke up once Julia put the holster around her waist and they were all loaded up with whatever weapons they needed. "You three really wanna know about this colt?"

Sam nodded, his temper calmed down from their fight the night before. "Yes, sir."

"It's just a story, a legend really," John started to tell them. "Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those mean died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun."

"He made it for a hunter," Luke took over the story. "He made thirteen bullets and this hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Danny got his hands on it."

"They say...they say that this gun can kill anything," John finished.

"Kill anything," Dean repeated slowly. "Like, supernatural anything?"

Sam stiffened in realization. "Like the demon."

"Yeah, like the demon," John confirmed with a nod. "Ever since Luke and I picked up its trail, we've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. If we find the gun, we may have it."

The five of them split up—John and Luke together while Julia, Sam, and Dean were grouped up—to enter the barn. While John and Luke went to look for the colt, the three of them went to rescue hostages. While Julia and Dean were unlocking the cage full of three human women, Sam went to freeing a woman who was tied to a post, blood all over her. She ended up screaming and alerting all the vampires that they were there, making them abort their mission.

After they got some dead man's blood, which will incapacitate a vampire for a while, and night fell, Julia and Dean were to be the trap for the vampires coming after them. They would make it look like the Impala had quit running, leaving them at the side of the road, looking for help.

Julia crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she watched Dean look over Baby's engine. She wrinkled her nose, trying not to think of what they were about to do; usually she was okay with anxiety before a hunt but she nor Dean had any experience with vampires. She didn't even know if she was strong enough to behead a vampire, for crying out loud.

Dean peeked over at her, giving her a cute smile. "Nervous, shortcake?"

"Yes," Julia didn't bother lying; he knew her tell anyway. "What about you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, his green eyes surprisingly soft. "And you don't have to worry, okay? As long as I'm around, nothing bad is ever going to happen to you."

Julia's heart fluttered in her chest and she couldn't help but grin at him. "Didn't you say that to Sam once?" she teased him. "Are you reusing one-liners, Dean? I never thought I'd see the day."

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he shook his head in amusement. "I distracted you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I guess you did," she conceded, her eyes flickering to the right when she heard some branches snapping. "Oh, crap."

The smile left Dean's face as he concentrated on the engine again, acting like he had no idea what he was doing. Julia peered over his work, making it seem like she was paying attention to what he was doing.

"Car trouble?" they heard from behind them.

Julia and Dean turned around at the same time, coming face-to-face with an older woman dressed in tacky double denim. She was very obviously a vampire, especially since there was no car around that she would have used to get to them, were she a human.

"Let me give you a lift," the vampire insisted with a seductive smile "I'll take you two back to my place."

"Sorry, we don't do threesomes," Dean said sharply. "And we draw the line at necrophilia, anyway."

"Ooh," the vampire cooed before reaching out and backhanding Dean across the face.

Julia went to help him but another vampire walked over to them—this one was a huge guy—and grabbed her. She was forced to watch as the woman picked Dean up by the chin, raising him up until his feet were off the ground.

"Ugh," Dean grunted. "I don't usually get this friendly until the second date, but..."

While Julia struggled in the man's arms, the woman smirked up at Dean. "You know, we could have some fun," she tempted him. "I always like to make new friends."

The woman lowered her arm until Dean was level with her. She smashed her lips against Dean's, giving him no room to struggle. Julia pushed against the vampire holding her, anger welling in her chest, and shouted for the woman to stop.

"Get off of him!" she yelled at her, still trying to make her way out of the man's arms; he roughly took one of her arms and held it behind her back while placing his other arm in front of her mouth. "Ouch, hey! Let go of me, dammit!"

The woman pulled away from a disgusted Dean and smirked at Julia. "You got yourself a feisty one, don't you," she sent a dig toward Dean as she slowly walked toward Julia. "Mmm...Luther will like you, sweetheart."

Fed up with the talking, Julia kicked back her leg into the man's nuts, making him grunt and let her go. As soon as she was out of his arms, an arrow was shot through his heart and the woman's.

"Damn it," the woman grunted while Julia helped Dean up from where the vampire discarded him; Sam, John, and Luke came out of the woods where they were hiding, bows in their hands. "It barely even stings."

"Give it time, sweetheart," John smirked at her. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"

Like clockwork, the woman stumbled and faltered, fainting to the ground. John handed Dean his bow and picked her up. "I'll load her up," John called out toward Luke. "You take care of that one."

Luke grinned and pulled out his machete, angrily leering down at the vampire who was holding Julia. "It'd be my pleasure."

As John went to toss the vampire in Impala's trunk, Luke swung his machete, slicing through the vampire's head with ease.

"I told you I'm okay," Julia assured her father as they sat around the campfire he had built.

"That vamp had you pretty tight, Jujube," Luke said worriedly.

"I've had worse," she told him; she had gotten injuries with almost every hunt that she had been on with Sam and Dean—some of them worse than others.

Luke nodded understandingly. "And how is the training going? Are Sam and Dean treating you all right?"

Julia looked over at the truck, where Sam and Dean were talking to their father about his weapon storage. "Yeah, they are," she nodded, turning back to Luke. "and training's going fine. I did an exorcism on an airplane, you know."

Luke grinned. "I know you did," he hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. "Listen, Julia, I'm sorry for not being there for you and your sisters. I've been with John on this from the very beginning and I got caught up in it. And, when Levi was killed," he shook his head and Julia was surprised to see him tearing up. "Well, I didn't want to face you girls."

"Why, though, Dad?" Julia didn't understand; a girl always needed her daddy.

"Because I was ashamed," Luke confessed. "We think that girl who was controlling the Daeva, the one who killed Levi, was working with the demon that killed Mary and Jessica. And, if she was, that meant that I brought her right to your brother. I'm the reason he's dead."

Julia grabbed Luke's left hand where his wedding ring was still wrapped around his fourth finger. "Dad, it's not your fault," she whispered, her eyes stinging with her own tears. "You couldn't have known that what happened to Levi would actually happen."

"I should have, though," Luke shook his head. "I've been hunting evil my whole life. I should have known that one of you—if not all of you—would pay the price."

"You can't think like that, Dad," Julia sniffed and wiped away some of her tears with her free hand. "You and Mom protected us the best you could."

Before they could talk anymore, the Winchester men walked over to the fire. John was holding a bundle of herbs, which he threw in the fire, immediately stinking up the vicinity.

"Gross," Julia wrinkled her nose at the smell. "What the hell is that?"

"Saffron, skunk's cabbage, a trillium," John informed her. "It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready."

Dean coughed and shook his head. "The stuff stinks."

"That's the idea," Luke let go of Julia's hand and stood up. "Dust your clothes with the ashes and you stand a chance of not being detected."

"And you're sure they'll come after her?" Sam questioned his father, nodding over to the vampire they had tied to a tree.

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun but the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half-hour ought to do it," Sam checked the machete in his holster.

"And then we want you three out of the area as fast as you can," Luke ordered.

Julia stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"

"You guys can't take care of them all," Dean protested.

"We'll have her and the colt," John placated him, pointing to the vampire.

"But after, we're gonna meet up, right?" Sam stared hard at his dad. "Use the gun together, right?"

John paused for a long moment, giving them the answer they needed.

Sam scoffed. "You're leaving again, aren't you?" he confronted John. "You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?"

"Like children."

"You are my children," John said firmly. "I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect, but that's bullshit," Dean spoke up, earning shocked looks from Sam and Julia.

Never before had Julia heard Dean speak up to his dad like that; and, by the way Sam was looking at his brother, he hadn't heard it either. Julia was proud of him; he was finally sticking up for himself.

John blinked in disbelief at his oldest son. "Excuse me?"

"You know that Sammy, Jules, and I have been hunting," Dean stood his ground. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean."

"Then what is it?" Dean asked him. "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

"This demon is a bad son of a bitch," John told them slowly, like they were kids wouldn't couldn't understand evil and the danger it brings. "I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," Dean retorted, seeing through his dad's bullshit.

"Look," John sighed. "I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. You mother's death, it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't."

"What happens if you die?" Dean countered, his voice wavering. "Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking and I...Maybe Sam's right about this one. We should do this together."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are," Dean continued. "You know it."

John shook his head. "We're running out of time," he changed the subject. "You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."

Luke tapped Julia's shoulder and when she turned to him, he nodded in Sam and Dean's direction. She knew that he was silently telling her to go with them but she agreed with the brothers; they should stick together. Sam and Dean had as much of a right to see this demon dead as John did.

"Go," Luke urged her. "Be careful."

While John and Luke left with the female vampire to lure out half of the nest, Julia, Dean, and Sam wiped out the rest of them who were left at the barn. It turned out that after a few tries, Julia did have enough strength to behead a vampire, which gave her much relief that she could defend herself.

After they freed the hostages, they made their way to where the fight between John and Luke and the vampires was going down. When they arrived, the vampires had John knocked out and Luke fighting a lost cause. But the tide turned in their favor when Dean shot an arrow drenched in dead man's blood into one of the vamps.

The three of them rushed at the vampires, their machetes drawn. Sam took out two vampires, one after another, while Dean killed the vampire that had Luke on the ropes. Julia was right behind him, ready to kill one of the last ones when another vampire came up behind her and forcefully pushed her to the ground.

The wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. The vampire who pushed her down stood over her, feet on either side of her body, and bent down, backhanding her face so hard she could taste blood. He wasn't finished with her, though; he grabbed her around the neck and lifted her with one hand, swinging her around so his arm could snap her neck and kill her within a second.

Julia's wide and fearful eyes were on a furious Dean, who was posed to attack the vampire, machete raised.

"Don't," the vampire warned him lowly. "I'll break her neck."

Julia inhaled deeply, silently panicking. This wouldn't have happened if she had been more careful.

"Put the blade down."

Dean hesitated, fire in his eyes, and when Julia grunted as the vampire squeezed her neck threateningly, he did as he was told. He raised his free hand and lowered the machete to the ground with the other. Sam dropped his blade as well, raising his hands in the air.

"You people," the vampire hissed as Julia wheezed in his hold. "Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so."

The vampire whipped around at John's voice, bringing Julia with him. John had the colt in his hand and waited for less than a second before aiming at the vampire and pulling the trigger. The bullet went right between the vampire's eyes, making him still.

Dean hurriedly pulled Julia into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her. Sam hovered near them, all three of them watching with wide eyes as the vampire slowly died.

The female that they had caught had tried to go after John but the last one wasn't having it. She dragged her into one of the vampire's cars and drove off, leaving Julia, Dean, Sam, Luke, and John to deal with the rest of them.

The vampire chapter of the story was done for now. They were safe and they had the colt. Now, all they had to do was track that demon down and kill it, just like it killed Mary and Jessica.

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 5 years ago

Text

Thine Enemy is Sweet (Part 12)

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Chaos.

Chaos ensued immediately as Ron loudly said, “Well, is this a party or what? Quit staring.”

Guests began to whisper; one person’s eyes were moving rapidly between everyone and Harry worried they would pass out. There were a few guests that were clearly uncomfortable by the way they were shifting from one foot to the other. Someone gasped loudly and far too dramatically to not be on purpose. It wasn’t until he looked closer that he realized it Parkinson, who winked at him when he caught her eyes.

As he looked around the room looking for Astoria who was weirdly absent, he could see Neville’s plants—the sheer amount of them stuck out and he wondered again, what was the point? There was only one table and it drew his attention; it had a handful of chairs available and that was it. That was calculated, only a select few would be able to sit while everyone else was to remain standing. Classic Nott, assert superiority and watch on with pity.

“What’s going on?” Nott demanded as he stood up, knocking over an ostentatious goblet, voice booming in the now silence of the room.

“None of you were invited.”

“I don’t need an invite,” Malfoy drawled, tone bored and eyes cold, far colder than Harry had seen. “Neither does Longbottom or Weasley. I know it’s hard to keep up but do try, won’t you?”

Nott’s fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, and Harry knew it was a tactic to remain calm, the habit was the only stress reliever that worked for him.

“If you must stay where you are unwanted then you are held responsible,” Nott said through gritted teeth. “The rest, however, do not belong here.”

“I do,” Harry said and watched Nott’s eyes flash with something. “You see, Draco is not only my date, but my boyfriend.”

Malfoy’s hand squeezed around his and he wasn’t sure if it was because he used his first name or the situation itself.

“What?” Nott whispered as he slumped into the chair, and for the first time, Harry could see that he was rattled. “How? Why?”

“It’s amazing how much we have in common, isn’t it?” Malfoy mocked, a harsh laugh reverberating around the room. “Like our shared experiences on how much of a colossal bag of shit you were to us.”

The whispers broke out again and Parkinson pulled out a Quick-Quotes Quill and started taking notes. Part of him wanted to hex it out of her hands, but this was the quickest way for the news to hit the papers and he really wanted to see the headlines.

“Why? Why did you come here?”

Malfoy extended his free hand and gestured around the room. “To celebrate.”

“Your friends aren’t welcome,” Nott sneered, eyes on Dean, and Harry unsheathed his wand.

“Okay,” Dean shrugged, “But the painting behind you is coming with me then.”

“Excuse you?” Nott angled his head towards the painting—it was massive, taking up most of the back wall—frown in place and eyes narrowed. “This is on loan from a reputable museum—not that you would know anything about that—you can’t take it.”

“I’m the artist,” Dean snarled. “It’s only because of me that the museum let it go for the night. I am to accompany it wherever it goes. Seems you are the one that wouldn’t know anything about being reputable.”

“And I’m the entertainment!” Seamus yelled when Nott’s face darkened. “Booked by you, yourself.”

Nott’s eyes closed briefly before he held up a hand. “Pardon? I did not book you. I booked the Weird Sisters.”

Seamus mounted his broom as he placed a finger on his chin. “I assure you; I was booked. Feel free to check for yourself.”

Before Nott could say anything, Seamus took off, Quidditch equipment following behind him.

“Who wants to be the seeker to my chaser?” Seamus asked, head down and not watching where he was going at all. Several people screamed when he weaved in-between them before he held tight to the broom and zooming underneath the table. Panic caused those closest to move too suddenly and many chairs tipped over, one lady grabbing hold of the tablecloth—pulling everything on top with her before the sound of shattering glass was nearly drowned out by Seamus’ whoop of laughter.

“Any takers?” He asked, a wide grin on his face and eyes lit up with excitement. “Can’t promise much, but we’d have fun, that’s for sure.” His brows waggled before he pulled out his flask and downed it in one go.

“What kind of fun?” Parkinson asked, eyes on Seamus and quill resting at her sides. She looked curious and Harry wanted to say something but when her lips quirked, he knew it was a lost cause.

“You want to find out?” Seamus lowered till he was flying right above her, snitch and bludger still chasing each other around his head.

That sounded like a bad idea but when it came to Seamus, bad ideas were the only ones he liked.

“Zabini!” Nott yelled, voice far too loud. “What have you done?”

The crowd dispersed, split down the middle and it reminded Harry of a story the Dursley’s told during the two-week time period where they tried—and failed—to be religious.

Zabini’s hand stilled, champagne glass near his face as his now widened eyes looked around the room.

“Pardon?” He straightened up and pulled at his already pristine robes. “Why am I to blame? I’ve done nothing.”

“I can see that,” Nott snarled. “It’s your bloody party company.”

“Ah,” Zabini nodded. “Right, forgot about that.”

When people began to grumble suspiciously, Zabini continued, one hand raised complacently. “Mother’s last husband—may he rest in peace—left behind Vintage by Design. She gave it to me. Can’t say I’ve given it much thought.”

“You better,” Nott threatened, voice a hoarse whisper. “It’s the only reason you are standing here.”

Harry was so used to purebloods sticking together that he was confused. When Zabini’s free hand clenched tightly he realized it was because he wasn’t part of the Sacred 28. Elitism stacked on elitism.

“I have the itinerary, do shut up.”

“Excuse you—”

Zabini pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment that had seen better days. “It would appear that the choice in entertainment was changed recently. It does say Finnigan was booked.”

“By whom?” There was a red flush to Nott’s face and Harry knew it was due to anger.

Zabini lifted up the parchment higher, eyes squinting as he tried to read it. “Just says…” he trailed off before his shoulders tensed and his eyes closed briefly. When they opened, he locked eyes with Malfoy.

“Nothing,” he whispered, voice carrying. “It says nothing. Must have been overlooked.”

Harry moved to whisper in Malfoy’s ear as Nott started threatening to sue. “Did you know he’d cover for you?”

Malfoy shook his head. “It was a fifty-fifty toss-up.”

“And if it hadn’t worked?”

Malfoy turned his head till his lips brushed against Harry’s ear. “I always have a backup plan, Potter.”

He shivered when a warm puff of air tickled his earlobe. He tilted his head and let Malfoy’s lips move down his neck.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry said louder than intended. There was something weirdly attractive about how resourceful Malfoy was.

The familiar feeling of a smile pressed into his skin would’ve had him smiling too if it wasn’t for Nott slamming his hand on the table, startling several people, including them.

“I want you two out,” Nott pointed at Harry and Malfoy. “And take your low life friends with you.”

“Hey,” Seamus threw the bludger at Nott who barely ducked in time. “I might be a lowlife, but Dean isn’t.”

Dean snorted as Ron and Neville let out outraged noises and began to argue.

“What’s going on?”

The crowd turned as one to see Astoria walk in, hands on her hips and lips curled downward. “This place is a mess.”

Malfoy didn’t look at her, he chose to watch Nott instead, so Harry did too. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Nott’s eyes grew softer, the anger lessening the further she entered the room. It was a weird effect, as if she was calming him with just her presence. Clearly, Nott was far fonder of her than he’d been with either of them.

When he looked back at Malfoy, there was a smirk that bordered on malicious and it made him want to step back.

“Astoria,” Nott extended a hand, gesturing her forward. “Your absence worried me.”

She looked around the room warily before settling on the wrecked table and destroyed dishes. “Something came up, I had to attend to it.”

What could have been more important than her own engagement party? When she bypassed Nott’s hand, Harry felt like he was missing something.

Movement drew his attention and he watched Dean slide Bandit out from his robes and place him on the ground. The Niffler immediately blended into the floor and he lost sight of him.

“However,” she continued, tone hesitant and distaste marring her features. “I didn’t think this was what our party would look like.” Her nose wrinkled the more she looked around the room.

When her eyes rested on Malfoy, she smiled softly, and her eyes closed as the smile grew and her cheeks lifted.

“Draco.”

“Astoria.”

Nott looked between them, eyes cold and narrowed.

“It’s so nice to see you.” Astoria left the table to approach Malfoy. “I had hoped you wouldn’t attend though.”

“I know,” Malfoy said with a huff of laughter. “It was unavoidable.”

Astoria noticed their clasped hands before she realized just who they belonged to. “Oh,” she mumbled, eyes briefly flickering towards Harry’s scar.

“Is this why…” she trailed off; voice barely audible as she looked to Malfoy who shook his head.

“You know why.”

She looked to the ground, her smile turning sombre. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

“Astoria?” Nott asked, and for the first time since they arrived, the anger in his voice was replaced with an uncertainty that was uncommon.

Astoria cleared her throat and a flash of a smile lit her face as she turned enough to see Nott. The smile was beautiful; it stretched her lips and her teeth flashed and it seemed to calm Nott, but it was fake. Utterly and irrevocably fake.

“I didn’t realize you two were close.” His smile was forced, the attempt at remaining cordial was laughable.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Malfoy drawled, fingers tapping the back of Harry’s hand rapidly. He felt a swoosh of energy signifying familiar magic.

The closest plant near Nott vanished and he knew it was Malfoy’s doing. He wasn’t good when it came to Herbology, but he could tell it had been one of the peppermint plants.

Nott’s face showed anger and his mouth parted to speak, but his brows furrowed, and a hand moved to rub his temple as whatever he had been going to say didn’t happen. He always did have recurring headaches, so to Harry, it wasn’t uncommon.

Headache. Harry groaned, he couldn’t help it. That’s what the look Malfoy gave him had meant when the plan was explained. Neville said the Witch’s Ganglion would give people a headache without the peppermint plants. His brows furrowed the longer he thought about it. What would the plant do to someone who already had headaches? Why have the peppermint plants around if they negated the effects?

Nott raised his wand to his temple and Harry knew it was a relaxant to ease the headache. A spell he’d seen him perform countless times.

When his wand lowered, Malfoy’s hand tightened around Harry’s and the look on his face screamed triumph. Only, he wasn’t sure what they had won.

Another set of fingers tapping against the back of his hand and the peppermint plant was returned. Nott’s shoulders slumped in relief and Harry could only assume the headache had dispersed.

“Oh?” Nott asked as he straightened up and sneered at Malfoy. “Like what? Pray tell what I don’t know.”

“Draco, don’t,” Astoria whispered but it was too quiet, and her voice carried. Malfoy didn’t spare her a glance, his eyes were solely on Nott.

“Like the fact that Astoria wanted to marry me but settled for you.”

“Oh shit,” Parkinson gasped, the sound of her quill scratching on the parchment before all hell broke loose.

-----

Today’s update is a little short but I wanted to get out there as is. I am sooo curious on any theories you guys might have. If anyone is confused, I would recommend rereading some of the parts, especially where Draco mentions Astoria. It might give you some clues.

Seamus is one of my favs of this story shksk. I have fun writing him every time. All mistakes are mine, I did not have a beta this time around. My baby is sleeping, maybe next time! I hope you all liked it!

Tag list:

@biconpotter @ive-been-found @h2octopuppy @watermystic78 @its-soupin-time @a-couchpotato @meghansm @portiamarie02 @irishbeings @lilyinthebreeze @rumpixel @idgiedw @tommydarlin @dolewhipdreamer @trans-nik-sion @mistydeath @yourspookysoul @bubbleblower @renas @silver-mercurials @puffbts @jasmine-tw @victorieinthesmallthings @gens-venturia @unicornhair-core @orkedad @juju092118 @pilesofriles @drarryybabyy @sweetlialia @bughug1999 @thesimplethingsaresweet @cookiepufflove @dagger222 @dianiedisaster @sorgenprinzessin @kingsipning @february-skye @spidey-pal @myrvaenboys @cportera @mydarlingdielle @just-some-bibliophile @abstractundefined @latetotheapocolypse

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Fake Dating #Enemies Fake Dating #don't kill me over the cliffhanger #okay #I needed to end it there #for reasons #idk why but I'm nervous about this one #I've hovered over the post button for 5 minutes now

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