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teddyniffler · 8 months ago

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Chapter 8: Ominis and Sebastian

Ominis sat in total, pressing silence.

He assumed he was in an office, but he couldn’t be sure, nobody had cared to inform him where he was going or why, which he had found most annoying. It would have taken them a few seconds of their time to explain.

He knew he was in the Minister of Magic and he guessed this was the Department of Magic law Enforcement from the voice in the lift, but that was all. They had come for him in Transfiguration, a knock on the door and at least two people had come in. Professor Weasley had not sounded happy for unknown wizards to interrupt her learning mid way through explaining something they would need for their N.E.W.Ts next year, they had just walked in to her room and asked for him. It all sounded very business like to Ominis, stern voices who expected to be obeyed. Ominis had gone with them, keeping calm by running through his head all the possible answers as to who these men where. They were clearly here about Sebastian, that he was sure of.

They had traveled by Floo Powder from Professor Black’s office, Ominis hated such travel, spinning without vision was terrifying, he never knew if he was going to make contact with something. Worst came the moment when it was time to get out, other people could see the end of their journey approaching, he couldn’t. He was thrown out of a fireplace and fell face and body first onto stone marble, throwing his arms out at the very last second. He could hear hundreds of voices echoing all around, with hundreds more feet hitting the floor. He knew he was covered in soot from the smell, and hoped somebody would be kind enough to rub him down where he couldn’t see. The wizards had then picked him up from the ground as if he were a child and almost dragged him by his arm to a lift. He felt like cursing them, they didn’t know about his self guiding wand that could help him ‘see’ but this was just rude, they were treating him with less dignity than he deserved. He knew to them he was just a boy who they had been send to retrieve and one who couldn’t identify them to complain. They had brought him to this room where they had left him sitting for some time.

And time dragged on slowly, not even the chiming of a clock to tell him the time and still he waited.

He shifted in his chair, his body was growing numb from how long he had been here, extremely disorientated his knee hit something in front of him. He lifted a hand and found a desk just out of his reach, or maybe it was a table of sorts.

His ears searched for any movement or voices, but the only sounds that met his ears were muffled footsteps from what seemed to be coming from a corridor beyond this room, doors opening and closing, the odd hoot of an owl in the distance as it flew by and even something that sounded like a house elf cleaning a window in this room from the outside.

Everything else was silent.

He waited, and he waited.

His own breathing was loud to him, licking his lips sounded amplified. Should he find his way to the door and ask somebody about why he had been here half a day without being seen yet?

He sighed, switched his legs around while being careful of the table this time, and slouched back in the chair, how much longer would they make him wait?

His time would be better waisted tending to the cauldron he couldn’t see, at least he may learn something about the potions he could just buy from J Pippin’s store.

The door behind him opened at long last and his ears zoned in on the sound.

“Sorry Mr Gaunt for keeping you waiting.” Came a woman’s voice.

“That is okay. How may I assist today?” He answered rather polite, which was not how he was feeling. He sat more respectable, no matter how he was feeling, he still should present himself correctly. The woman sat in front of him and he heard files being placed down on the desk.

“I just need to ask you a few more questions and take a record of what you say. As you cannot see the document I am making up, I will have a second wizard come in and confirm your statement with you. Then you will need to sign it to confirm your account is correct and you are happy for it to be used as new evidence.”

Ominis wet his lips.

“I understand. Where are we right now?” He asked. “So I can get my bearings. I find I am unsettled when I cannot picture where I am.”

“You are in the Investigation Department of the Auror Office.”

“I see. Thank you, that helps ease my mind.” He replied.

“Don’t worry. We won’t get you lost and you’ll be back at school for dinner time.” The woman said reassuringly.

How easy people were to steer to his advantage, it made him ashamed of this as it linked him back to his family, this was their learning showing within him. People were so very helpful to the blind boy he appeared to be, from this brief exchange he got more information from this woman than she would ever know she had given him.

The Aurors were the people who had arrived at Hogwarts to arrest Sebastian and bring him here before his trial. He knew from earsdropping on Professors Weasley and Sharp that the Aurors were currently preventing Sebastian from succumbing to the despair of Azkaban. Being in their investigation area meant they were making progress in Sebastian’s case. This was a good thing, but only a good thing, it would have been better if they were in the actual Head of Law Office, the direct people handling Sebastian’s case.

“I’m just going to make some notes, so we can use them in the courtrooms. This is similar to the statement you provided earlier this year. There’s no wrong answers, we just need a record of your account.”

He nodded.

“I understand.”

He could hear a quill scratching now.

“Could you tell me what you felt under the Imperious Curse?” The woman asked.

It was as he expected, this was an interrogation, they were making sure he wasn’t lying by trying to trip him up. His father had prepared him for this in his own twisted way, Ominis remembered what his father had told him while holding his wand to Ominis’ face.

“It felt really good.” Ominis lied. He paused for effect before continuing. “I never believed I could feel like that. Each day I was content, I was so happy.” He titled his head down, the way he knew people did when they were uneasy.

“It is hard being from my family. There are certain standards, expectations. Since my birth, I have fallen short of everyone of them. A Gaunt should be perfect, but I am not. My magic is no better than anybody else from my classes and magic was unable to heal my affliction as a child. A blemish on not only Salazar Slytherin’s name, but Cadmus Peverell also. I shan’t say more as it’s a lot I have thought about. I have fought with myself everyday for not being perfect, for not meeting the standards imposed by my family. When I was under Rookwood’s control, none of that bothered me. I didn’t even think of it, I had no thoughts of my own, only a great bliss.”

He paused again, putting his hands up to the sides of his nose, he rubbed them up to his eyes for the full effect of a person under great stress. He had heard enough students in the library doing this before books got slammed shut.

“Then,” Ominis said, he looked to the side, scrunching his eyebrows up to complete his image. “Then it was all gone. I felt things again and it felt like a great wave of emotions. It threatened to crush me where I sat in class. It was awful, I was so dazed but I could feel a rush of emotions all overwhelming me. I felt like everything returned at once, I didn’t even know where I was at first, I panicked but kept it to myself, I didn’t understand what had happened to me, why I wasat Hogwarts in my sixth year, what happened to being in the fifth year? I didn’t know where Sebastian was and everybody was talking about him, saying he had done terrible things, when the last I remember his uncle had just been killed by Rookwood. I do vaguely recall the gap between last term at Hogwarts and now, but it’s like somebody else’s memory. I remember Rookwood telling me to say Sebastian killed his uncle and to act like myself, act like nothing was wrong.”

The scratching of the quill continued.

“Are you okay to continue?” The woman asked.

Ominis was still looking down, the looked up and nodded.

“I am.”

“How did you know Solomon Sallow?” She enquired.

“Mr Sallow was a great man, when I disagreement with my own family, Mr Sallow invited me into his home. Every holiday and summer, I stayed in his house. He really cared for his niece and nephew, he showed great concern for me too, he was always checking up on me. It saddens me that he died and in such a horrible way.”

The questions continued long into the afternoon. Some questions were repeated, he noticed the same questions being said in a different way to make them look like new questions, all trying to catch him in the act of lying. Again and again, the questions came to him, until,

“Right Mr Gaunt, I think that is everything we needed, Mr Rowle is here to read your statement out to you, then if you are happy everything is correct, please sign and date it.”

The door opened as she talked and more footsteps as a man conquered a chair next to him.

“So, if at any time you aren’t happy, just pause me and we’ll amend anything.” He said. He started to read out loud, it all sounded farfetched to Ominis, they were attacked by Victor Rookwood, who cursed all three of them, including the new student last year. Solomon Sallow killed, followed by events up to now. Ominis acted normal, he was listening, but at the same time he was trying not to cringe with how fable this recounted version sounded. Once he signed and dated his new statement, he was returned to Hogwarts.

Daily Prophet November 1891

DECITE OR WRONGFUL CONVICTION?

The Daily Prophet has been passed concerning news this evening. An appeal to free the convicted Dark Wizard, Sebastian Sallow, who killed his uncle and tortured many Hogwarts Students is currently in place, writes Judith Skeeter, special correspondent for The Daily Prophet. The Daily Prophet is outraged on behalf of the ordinary, law-abiding Wizarding World. According to the leak, given to us by the reliable Ministry source we have taken reference from before, an appeal has been issued by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to retrial the boy. Our informed source also claims most of the new evidence originates from the same students who helped convict Sallow in the first place. The Daily Prophet wants to remind readers of Sallow’s crimes, how he had students covering for his dark deeds, they now want him freed. It is clear these poor, traumatized students are being threatened, blackmailed or are Dark Wizards themselves. Hogwarts Professors no doubt should look into this as a real concerning issue.

DO YOU THINK DARK WIZARDS SHOULD BE FREEED FROM AZKABAN?

ARE YOU A STUDENT? How do you feel about dark wizards being back in your safe place of education?

Send in your owls with your views to be published in the next available issue. Your name will be withheld unless you wish otherwise.

The two Aurors stepped into the cell, wands held at the ready. These two were allowed to keep their wands on them, being an Auror allowed that. They knew spells only somebody in their profession knew, and not all were on how to take down or subdue their targets, but how to duel with intent to end life at times. A normal Auror would be hunting down the darkest of wand bearers, but not these two, for they were only newly qualified.

Rather than join their superiors in top secret jobs like others they graduated with, these two were babysitting a sickly teenager who wouldn’t lay still long enough to remain on his ‘bed’. Yet again he was slumped on the floor in a pool of his own vomit, the two Aurors glanced at each other before using their wands to turn the boy over. They were not much older than him, not even ten years separated them in age.

“It stinks bad in here.” The male muttered, Azkaban clearly needed to fix their drainage system, the smell made him want to vomit too, while his female counterpart glanced up at the Dementors floating around on the roof. A little dormouse made entirely of white mist was scuttling in and out of the cell, keeping the Dementors away from this boy.

The male came closer while the female Auror held her wand steady at the boy, if he was faking this sickness and tried anything on her partner, she would use Relashio, that would do just fine. Normally she would use a stunning spell, but stupefy might finish him off for good.

The male lifted the youth’s head and held a cup of water to his mouth, he poured slowly, trying not to choke the boy. There was little sign of life, his eyes would flutter sometimes. He felt cold enough that the male Auror could feel the chill from his body through his robes. They couldn’t do anything else for him, it was not allowed. They were only stationed here until they received word one way or another. They would either transfer him to St Mungos or they would be recalled to the Ministry and this boy would be left to die in this cell. The male Auror hoped they would get the call to bring out the boy, he reminded him far too much of his own younger brother who was currently at Hogwarts. The female Auror took her eyes off the boy for a moment to look back up at the Dementors. The foul creatures were beyond angry that their new food source was being withheld from them.

“Done it.” The male said.

The female Auror bent down and together they picked the boy up from the floor and placed him upon the stone slab. It was hard to see him so the male luminated his wand. His bones were very visible now, his prison robes that had fitted him when he arrived now looked far too baggy, at least three sizes too big. The top hung down his shoulders, his collar bone very prominently sticking up. The female Auror had once seen her grandfather behind a window in a room at St Mungos with Dragonpox days before the illness took him, this boy looked no better than her grandfather had.

“He’s not even seventeen yet. Do you think he really did what they claim he did?” She asked.

“That’s not our place to discuss this.” The male said diplomatically. “However, I do believe Azkaban needs reform.”

They left the cell, wands still out ready, just in case.

Ominis was leaning against the lake window. Utter defeated.

It was late at night, or maybe it was now the early hours of the morning. The somber Tock! Tock! Tock! of the clock sounding like an anvil beating against his heart. He had been questioned by the Ministry for so long dinner had long since finished. He was hungry, but his wand wasn’t working entirely right, as when he asked it to show him where to find food, he ended up being taken away from the great hall to a spiral staircase. He thought this was another way to the Dungeons but it didn’t feel like it, the lake was much lower. He had walked into Poppy Sweeting on this staircase, she was heading down too, if she was surprised to see him in this part of the castle, she didn’t sound it. When he, rather wistfully, told her he was looking for some food her voice brightened in seconds.

“Yes! Come with me!” She said.

Ominis didn’t know where the kitchens were, he did now and he had a rough idea that the Hufflepuff common room was no too far away, due to the odd voices he recognized just down this small area.

It filled his heart with gratitude as she placed a small package filled with sandwiches for him into his hands. You could always count on a Hufflepuff for their kindness.

“How is Sebastian?” She had asked him quietly. Most of the voices had now vanished, what sounded like wood moving had replaced them and then they were gone.

He had been feigning sadness and disbelief all day, but now his emotions were real.

“I don’t know.” He said truthfully. “Nobody can tell me anything. I don’t even think the teachers know how he is.”

“Azkaban though.” Poppy said sadly. “Even if he does get out, he won’t be the Sebastian we all knew.”

He could feel it again, the urge to back into his mind. If only he had stayed silent! If only he had not run off to Black. If only…

He then felt an hand on his shoulder. She was touching him. What emotion had crossed his face in those seconds he had let his emotions consume him.

He recoiled a little. This wasn’t Anne or Sebastian, the only people allowed to get close to him. He didn’t like people touching him.

“Oh, sorry. It’s a bad habit. I’m sorry.” Poppy said.

“It’s fine. I need to get going. I missed a lot of my classes today. I must catch up on what I missed from our teachers. Thank you again Poppy. Thank you for asking about Sebastian.”

He had hurried away as fast as his wand could guide him.

Hours later he sat, alone in this cavernous common room at the bottom of the lake. Leaning against the glass hearing the gentle lull of air bubbles against the glass. His hand touching the cold window.

In his other hand he held a letter from his brother Marvolo.

Ominis, brother.

It gladdens me to know you have finally seen reason and returned to your senses. You are a Gaunt and you know the esteemed privilege that brings. I cannot wait to see you this Christmas, nor can Mori. Our family shall have a great celebration to mark their youngest son returning. You know of your duty to this family and as I am sure our father will remind you; you are approaching adult age. You have run for far too long, it's time to come home. Do not let Mother and Father down Ominis, you know what happens when you don’t do as you are told.

Once again, I am happy you have finally come around. You are a Gaunt. You cannot change that.

Your brother,

Marvolo.

The letter had arrived while he was eating his sandwiches. He had placed his wand to the parchment, fully expecting it to be from Professor Weasley informing him about his homework for next class and about the important class he missed. The moment the wand read out the word ‘brother’ to him he froze, the sandwich falling out of his hand. He had finished the letter and placed it into his pocket so nobody could read it, so nobody would ask him questions.

Maybe he was tired from being questioned all day, maybe it was the shock from the letter, but no matter how tired he felt, he could not sleep. He couldn’t sleep at all. The anxiety and full horror gripping him at the real prospect of going back home. He knew it had been a risk contacting his father for something so big as twisting the law to get his own way.

His punishment for being so bold was to return to his family.

He had never felt more alone in the world as he did right then. Everybody in Slytherin house was asleep, the entire castle was asleep but him. It felt like he was the only one awake right now in the entire world.

He wanted Anne and Sebastian. He wanted somebody to tell him it was going to be all ok.

He remembered the agony of the Cruciatus Curse as it was placed on him, how it hurt beyond anything he could ever imagine. They had held it on him for so long. He had wanted to beg them to stop, but he couldn’t stop screaming. He couldn’t even breath for screaming. They had still kept it on him, until…

Ominis was not the only one wide awake and troubled that night. Nor was he the only Gaunt at Hogwarts.

In the headmaster’s office, Professor Black poured himself another large triple whiskey as the same letter appeared on his desk, however he paid it no heed. He knew what it said already. The inbred psychopath who just left his office had more or less recited the letter in advance, word by word. To Black, it looked like Gaunt was displaying some childish need to be congratulated for his efforts. The Gaunts were not entirely sane and Black shuddered every time Gaunt came for a visit. One wrong word and rumor had it the Gaunts could deliver a bout of Crucio so bad it would have you begging for death.

Master Gaunt left the winged boar gates, chucking jolly. He had just been to deliver brilliant news to his great friend Phineas. He wanted to be there in person as events in London happened under his control. He liked playing his games and wanted as many friends as possible to join in with him, in a way the wizarding world skipped to his beat and he changed the tone as often as he wanted. Tonight, Phineas seen in real time just how much the world bend to a Gaunt. His horrified face still etched into Master Gaunt’s mind. He was going home now, he had enough fun for one night with his friends.

Unknown to Mr Gaunt, he was being watched by the careful and watchful eyes of Professor Weasley. She had taken care not to light any candles or allow any reflection from her chamber room to get out. Professor Weasley rarely slept too many hours, she had found her most productive hours were under the moonlight, she also saw things other people missed.

Why was the head of the Gaunt family visiting the school at such an early hour of the morning? She was startled when a letter appeared suddenly in flames by her bedside table, she spun around in alarm.

A third letter erupted into flames in Azkaban. The two Aurors had been sleeping on the floor, but their heads came up in shock at seeing the flames. They got up to see what their superiors had to say. A flame letter was rare and only certain people could deliver them.

Professor Weasley picked up the letter back at Hogwarts, at the same did so did the Aurors in Azkaban. They read them at the same time, all the letters were exactly the same.

BY ORDER OF FARIS SPAVIN, THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement hereby exonerates Sebastian Sallow of all charges held against him and issues his immediate release from the institute of Azkaban Prison, North Sea.

Dated: 15th November 1891

Signed: F. Spavin, Minister for Magic.

#ITSOFF #ITSOFF8

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talenlee · 10 months ago

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USP-12: December's Custom Cards

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: USP-12: December's Custom Cards

The coldest winds blow across the old ocean. The boats turn towards that widening gyre. The spiralling waters underneath the Palace of the dead buck and roil, as the players in place similarly whirl and dance around one another. Ullaine’s curse, the fascination with Planeswalkers, has a reckless cadre of resistant planeswalkers returning to the plane. The Outlanders have brought their war to the docks. The Vast are rising and coming with them are the greatest and oldest things that hate the designs of Gansukh, and all while a small number of heroes run into the Palace, to try and convince the Usurper that it’s time to go – or else.

The centre cannot hold.

Warning: Wizards employees, this post contains unsolicited designs of custom magic cards.

It’s December, and the year is ending. All along, with the theme of each month set up, I knew I’d need a month like this, a month where the the theme is miscellaneous. This month has no specific theme, beyond ‘things that didn’t fit any other theme.’

That’s that, that’s the whole set, in aggregate, right? If you’d like to just look at the whole set as its own thing, here’s my mse-set, file. Like, that’s it, that’s the whole set. Mess it up, change cards, look at my notes, see if I revised stuff.

Well, let’s check it out, let’s see who remains from this big project!

This is where we meet our last legendary creature with a voice! Her name is Jerel, and she’s one of the people in Ullaine’s Wake. She’s especially frustrated, in fact, because she finds the puzzle of how this place is the way it is very, very interesting, but she can’t get away from the boats easily. What she wants to investigate is what she’s sure is the source of the problem (the outlands, with their razed forests), but nooo she’s stuck hopping from boat to boat as they circle around and draw closer and closer to that big floating Palace which has already got a very sensible sort of keeper going on.

Jerel has all the energy of a class prefect who doesn’t realise everyone graduated six years ago.

In our other legendary creatures, there’s the last of the Legendary Adventures cards, with Uranchimeg. I designed these cards back in September 2022, which makes it especially funny to see that Wilds of Eldraine took a lot of pages from my spellbook, as it were, and I wound up seeing things like cards with adventures you could cast from other zones, and legendary creatures with Adventures, but also most notably, of course, off-colour Adventures.

It wasn’t like it was a complicated idea to come up with. It’s bordering on the most obvious ideas possible, really.

Anyway, Uranchimeg is an artwork, made out of the ice of the iceberg, and then, once crafted, it became something else. It’s an it/its, and it can’t talk, which is obviously a problem for communicating character, but what it can do is create a strange and unsettling calm, so it’s not like anyone else attacks either. What it is doing is expressing the desire of the thing in the ice to remain asleep.

Then finally, the Big Bant Boy, Ogtbish. I knew when I started this project, I wanted a bunch of commander-capable cards that were AB, with a C cost in their abilities that let them have two or three colour decks under them. In narrative, Ogtbish is one of the things under the palace that has arisen up, here and angry and demanding attention. Also I think it ate someone’s spark, which is why it’s so big by comparison, to represent the white activated ability, too. If you want some Ogtbish math, for 4 mana, Ogtbish is a 4/4, for 5 mana it’s a 6/6, and for 7 mana (ravenous time) it’s a 10/10. You only draw one card though. Boo hoo.

I suppose now is the time to consider what didn’t make it into this set. For a start, I don’t think there was a narrative as much as there was a setting. There’s no procession from story point to story point and what procession there is, it’s hard to trace its origin or how it relates to one another.

There’s a story of Thanabel, for example, who starts out as a devoted angel of the Palace. Then she’s sent to the Outlands to inspect the new Horned King arising, and in the process, dies, possibly while fighting the Faceless. But the experience changes her and when she leaves the Palace again, she’s now on the Horned King’s side, helping bring back from the Palace figures important to the triumph of the Faceless.

There’s a story told by someone meeting Zyru – an Outlander who it turns out has been a prince of the Faceless all along. He’s reckless and fickle goon who loves to hang with the Outlanders because they’re chaotic and fun and they like to party. But also, that’s just him talking to someone, I don’t know what sequence of events he’s doing.

There’s the story of Jhara of the Black Thumb. She’s convinced that she’s patrolling the middle of a nowhereseville and not realising that she’s standing on the border between two major factions as they marshal, but I don’t know what she does or says afterwards.

Similarly, all these characters have stories about what they do or how they do it – but there’s no clear idea of a story happening with a sequence of events.

There’s a whole mechanic I cut. Originally, the set had Totem Armour! And the thing that’s funny is, after I cut it, I decided I just wanted to keep two or three cards with the mechanic, so I just spelled it out. And what made that even more awkward is after I did that, Wizards of the Coast released their own set, March of the Machine in which they describe the idea that they’ve decided to use useful keywords that they would redundantly spell out otherwise as one-of in other sets. That meant that mechanics like Surveil and Landcycling and Flashback can show up in sets that aren’t ‘about them.’ Like, say, Totem Armour.

Dinger!

On a purely material level there’s a lot I would rather I do differently in this year. I think a whole year of 365 cards focusing on the number of mechanics I did meant stretching some cards thin. I think that I didn’t prioritise flavour as much as I should have, or rather, that now I have a better handle on it, I want to make even more cards with flavour. I think that I wanted more mechanics I could explore in more ways rather than just the same small number repeated over the year.

I’m firmly of the opinion that when you make something, it works as practice for the next thing you make. I really did feel that here: The set I made this year informs a lot about what I wanted to try for the next year.

Overall, I am happy with what I made. I like a lot of it. I like the characters and I like the ideas in the setting. I’m most happy with:

The Horned King as this pagan figure of menace, the place where life and death worship overlap

The Masqued as a culture of identity-shedding magically-made spy people subservient to a greater culture, but once they become what they are, they no longer need to be subservient

The Faceless, pagan monster people who are somehow wrong because they don’t use your ideas of ‘normal’ or ‘identity’

The palace boats, intrigue-filled places vampires use to somehow cheat the rules of their vampirism?

The triplicate of Spirits, Lightlings and Husks! I liked the idea of undead that weren’t necromantic as much as they were just leftover materiel. Lightlings as these really alien forms of life itself felt like a cool addition to a fantasy universe.

The Usurper’s Palace (USP) is a collection of Custom Magic cards made with the general structure of a commander draft set. The cards are posted, one per day with different themes every month, to the Custom Magic subreddit, on my Mastodon and Cohost. Follow along for more!

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#2023CustomMagicCards #CustomMagicCards #UsurperSPalace

#2023 Custom Magic Cards #Custom Magic Cards #Usurper's Palace #Games #Magic: The Gathering

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strangermarvelss · 2 years ago

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strange love- e.m (pt 2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: eddie has a date, with someone who isn’t you. you’re less than thrilled about it

Warnings: best friends!-to-lovers!, ANGST, jealousy, cursing, mentions of vomiting, fluffy ending, eddie's a total sap

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: here is the second part to my strange love fic, which you can find the first part linked below. i love writing for eddie and this little multi-part was fun and i want to continue to write for everyone’s favorite metalhead hehe. i hope you all enjoy :)- sava

part one

“I cannot believe that happened. I’m such a fucking idiot!” you exclaim as Nancy comes running down the stairs of her basement, arms full of junk food, magazines, and the movies Robin picked up from her shift at Family Video. Robin was by your side, rubbing your back and whispering soothing little phrases in an attempt to calm you down, while Mike just ran up to his room to try and call El, not wanting to hear or deal with any of your drama anymore.

You on the other hand, were an absolute mess. The world around your was spinning when you walked into the front door of the Wheeler’s house, prompting Robin to help you down the stairs. The pit of your stomach was a gurgling mess, the horrible thought of spewing your guts still on your mind. The tears now dry on your cheeks from all the crying in the car, but now mixing with new tears forming as your thoughts from the events that occurred less than an hour ago keep flooding back to your memory, trying to process and recount everything that happened. You weren’t shocked by your response to it all, because your greatest secret just escaped from your own personal fortress and out into the world.

Your best friend knew you liked him.

And he just stood there. Looking disgusted. Horrified.

The more you thought about it, the thicker the air became around you and the harder it became to breathe. Closing your eyes, you try to focus on your breathing and think of the place where you are most relaxed, a trick your school counselor taught you when you met weekly during your parents divorce.

The only problem? Your happy place was now compromised.

The place where you felt like no wrong could happen or all the bad things that Hawkins kept throwing your way couldn’t reach was down at the Forest Hills Trailer Park, listening along to a kick ass song that a sweetheart of a metalhead would strum on his guitar as a joint hung loosely on his lips, all while you nursed on a warm beer that you would normally hate. Your nights would usually go about like that, or watching a movie together all cuddled up on his living room sofa. The times you would spend with Eddie made the fucked up world around you feel small and insignificant, like it was just the two of you existing for the rest of eternity. You would give anything just to be near him with no worries in the world. Now, that just wasn’t in the cards anymore.

“Okay so,” you hear Nancy say, setting down the stuff on the table she brought out and clasping her hands together, causing you to snap back into your current reality. You look at all the food and entertainment in front of you, wanting so badly to just indulge yourself for the evening and believe for a second that it can all be okay and things will be just fine between you and Eddie. But you know in your heart that it’s only a distraction, and when you wake up tomorrow, the pain you’re feeling now will still be very present.

“You have your pick of…well anything tonight, Y/N. Movies, magazines, any junk you want. We can even order a pizza if you’re in the mood?” Nancy suggests, sitting next to you on the couch.

“Of course she’s not in the mood, Nance! She and Eddie just-“ Robin began to say, before earning a slap on the leg from across the couch.

“Robin! Don’t bring it up! This night is about having fun and definitely not talking about any guys or girls,” Nancy yells.

“Guys, I really don’t feel like-“

“Oh so we’re not going to talk about what happened with you and Steve?” Robin asks Nancy. You scrunch your face and look at Nancy, raising your eyebrows with the puzzled look smeared across your face.

“Wait, what’s going on with you and Steve?” you ask her. Now this was a conversation you were interested in having. If you were going to have a distraction at all tonight, you wanted it to be this conversation.

“I caught the two of them flirting at Family Video the other day,” Robin admits, causing your jaw to drop as you look between the two them. Nancy lets out a huff and reaches for the bag of Cheetos in front of the three of you.

“Oh yeah? Well did Robin tell you about her and Vicky?” Nancy says, her face sliding into a smirk as a loud gasp escapes Robin’s mouth. You bust into a fit of giggles as the two of them playfully argue over the two people they were trying to be romantic with, grabbing yourself a Hostess cake to sit back and watch the drama unfold.

The three of you continue to discuss different things, ranging from their crushes, to graduation rounding the corner, and even jokingly planning a trip to take to Indianapolis for a weekend, unsure if the other two girls really meant it. Smiling to yourself, you stuff some food into your face as the jokes and conversation carry on into the late hours of the night, glad that they were able to distract you from the horrible events of the night and wash away for the time being, just living in the moment. You were trying your best to create happy memories without Eddie in them, since that is what your current future was looking like.

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The sound of footsteps stomping above you pull you from a blissful sleep. At some point in the night, the couch was converted into the pull out bed and the blow up mattress was put together. You weren’t sure what time the three of you wrapped your conversations and retreated to your dreams for the night, nor were you aware of what time it was currently, but part of you didn’t care all that much. Saturday’s were usually just carefree days for you anyway, catching up on homework or hanging out with Eddie.

Eddie.

The pang in your chest ignites as you recall the events of the night before, images flashing into your brain as you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Eddie’s giddy smile as he told you about his date, Shirley draped over Eddie on his throne, Eddie’s horrified face when he found out you liked him. It hurt, it hurt more than anything you’ve felt before in your life. More than the stitches you got when you were 8, and even more than your parents divorce.

You’ve never been in a real relationship, just a few makeout sessions here and there, and Eddie was the first guy you’ve ever truly liked to the point where you thought maybe, just maybe, things would become more than the fantasy you pictured in your head. You saw yourself going on dates with Eddie, which wasn’t too different from your usual interactions and outings with him, it was just paired with more affection and…other stuff. You never thought it would be in the cards for you until you got close with him. But seeing him last night with another girl made those hopes and dreams vanish, cementing them into what they truly were: a fantasy.

Looking around, you notice Robin’s sleeping body still lying next to you on the pull out, while Nancy’s form is not in her blow up mattress she set beside the both of you on the floor. Carefully, you slide out beneath the covers and rise to your feet, walking towards the steps that led you out of the Wheeler’s basement and onto their ground floor.

The smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs fill your senses as you open the door from the basement, looking around to see the family just now finishing up. Holly was sitting at the table with Mr. Wheeler as he read his newspaper, and Mrs. Wheeler was beginning to clean up the dishes everyone used. You flash Holly a smile when she looks to you and turn around quickly when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey,” Nancy says. You let out a sigh from the heart attack she nearly gave you and she leads you into the living room away from everyone, and away from the yummy food that was still left over.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, placing her hand on your shoulder for reassurance. Letting out another sigh, you shrug and look out into the distance, trying to collect your thoughts and truly describe just how you feel this morning.

“Not good,” you simply say, looking to Nancy with a tight lipped smile. “But last night really helped me not think about him in the moment, and I appreciate that. I had a lot of fun,” you tell her, pulling her in for a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. Her soft hands rub your back in a soothing manner, causing you to relax a bit more before pulling away to meet her eyes again.

“Do you want some breakfast? Then I can drive you and Robin home?” She asks. You nod and you both stand from the couch and make your way back into the kitchen, Nancy heading towards the basement door to inform Robin of the delicious food that awaits.

Part of you wanted to beg Nancy to stay here for the rest of the day given how close in proximity you lived to Eddie. You desperately wanted to stay at the Wheeler’s and watch the movies Robin picked up for the three of you that you never got around to last night due to your ongoing stream of consciousness conversation. Hell, you’d rather ask Nancy to take you to Skull Rock than back to the trailer park. Eddie didn’t have a job, so his weekends were spent practicing for his band or hanging out with you, and given the circumstances of last night, the latter wasn’t bound to happen this weekend. Or perhaps ever again. Regardless, he’d be at his trailer when you got back, and if what Shirley was saying last night was true, maybe he wouldn’t be alone.

And that would just be the cherry on top of your shit sundae.

Your mind and bodily reactions were moving at 1000 miles a minute as Nancy got closer and closer to the trailer park. Robin was dropped off first as she lived closest to Nancy, then the two of you began your journey back to your home. Your nerves that had been buried deep inside since last night were bubbling to the surface again, feeling exactly how you felt yesterday when you found out about his date, then accidentally confirming your feelings to Eddie. Pain in your chest, sweaty palms, light headed mind playing tricks on you.

You notice Nancy checking on you now and again, giving you positive reassurances to settle you down. She and Eddie were the ones who knew you the best, gathering the years of friendship to analyze your distressed tells and noticing even the most slight offness of your presence made both of them concerned. You sure had a way of picking the most observant people in your life.

Pulling into the trailer park, you feel the gravel beneath you shake you in your seat as Nancy carefully passes your neighbors. You rub your thighs up and down a few times, in an attempt to both stop the sweat from gathering on your palms and also to calm your nerves. Passing by Eddie’s trailer, you see his van parked right beside it, signaling that he was home, not that it was any kind of surprise. That didn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat then quickly picking up the pace.

Turning the corner, you both drive up to your trailer and see the familiar mop of brown messy curls sitting on your steps. His leg was bouncing as he bit his nails, something he really only did when he was extra nervous, as he didn’t want the bad shape of his nails to interfere with his guitar playing. Nancy looks to you and you let out a sigh, not wanting to go and have a conversation about how he doesn’t love you back and that the two of you can’t be friends any longer. All because you fucking hesitated like an idiot.

“Thanks for the ride, Nance,” you tell her. She pulls you into a hug and you let out a shaky breath, the nerves rising up more and more as you notice Eddie’s watching the two of you from her car, rising to his feet.

“You got this, okay? And if you need me, call me. I’ll be over in an instant,” she informs you, making you smile. The two of you break away from the hug and you gather your things in your hands as you open the car door. Stepping out, you thank Nancy again and shut the door, turning your attention towards Eddie, slowly walking closer.

“Hi,” you say. He continues to look at you, his face unreadable.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

“I slept over at Nance’s, we made the plans during school yesterday,” you respond, attitude dripping in your voice. “Besides, you were busy with Shirley last night anyway, so why does it matter to you?”

“I didn’t bring Shirley back here. I took her home after Hellfire,” he simply admits. You stand there for a minute looking at him, his face completely serious. Not something you saw from Eddie Munson very often, as his goofball and eccentric personality something you loved most. But you knew today was not the day for that kind of mood.

“Oh,” you let out quietly. You kick your feet in the gravel, the silence around you as thick as it was last night in the high school parking lot. You weren’t sure what to say to him. Just kidding, I don’t have a major crush on you that I think about nearly every second of every day, good times right? No, you know he knew you were serious. Those observant instincts of his could always kick in at the worst possible moments.

“Listen, Y/N, I wanted to talk about last night-“ Eddie began to say. He couldn’t even look at you as he spoke, and avoiding your nickname he had for you altogether? This isn’t something you wanted to deal with right now, trying to think of several scenarios that would allow for you to slip past him and into the sanctuary of your trailer, all so you could flop on your bed and let these emotions flow freely.

“Look, Eddie, I really don’t want to have this conversation with you right now. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle hearing this rejection, not now. Hell, maybe not ever. So I’m just gonna go inside, okay? I don’t need some big speech about how you only see me as a friend, and how you don’t think you can even be that anymore because I’ve ruined everything between us, so can you please go home and let me-“ you were rambling on and on, your breathing beginning to become uneven as the words kept spewing out of your mouth and you tried slipping past the metalhead and towards your front door.

“Jesus H. Christ, Y/N, can you please shut up and let me talk?!” He huffs out, grabbing onto your wrist to stop you. You stop in your tracks at his tone and turn towards him slowly, the sadness creeping up your spine and the tears pinching behind your eyes. Stay strong, Y/N. Do not cry in front of him, not again.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…God, I’m nervous and I don’t know how I want to say what I’m about to say, even though I’ve been thinking about it all night,” he says. Now it was his turn to start rambling.

“Just spit it out, Eddie,” you tell him flatly, crossing your arms and waiting to brace for impact. Waiting for the bomb to drop and destroy everything in your path. Years of friendship to be destroyed in a matter of seconds.

“Right, yeah. Well, I-uh-I like you,” he blurts out.

What?

“That’s actually an understatement, sorry. I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you,” he tells you, his eyes peering up and meeting yours. The genuine look on his face was tearing your heart to shreds. There was no way he was being serious right now, after how last night played out. You standing there in the parking lot looking like an idiot as Eddie looked scared out of his god damn mind.

“Bullshit,” you say, your words laced with venom.

“S'cues me?” He asks, his brows furrowing as you continue to hold your eye contact.

“I don’t have it in me to play games Eddie, so don’t bullshit me, I’m begging you,” you let out, sounding defeated. Part of you felt that he was only saying this because he felt sorry for how he humiliated you last night, only ‘reciprocating’ these feelings out of pure pity.

“I’m not bullshitting you, Y/N. These feelings are as real as the tatties on my body baby,” he tells you, flashing is chest tat quickly. You roll your eyes. He could never be serious for one single moment, could he?

“Give me a break. I saw how you looked at me last night, Eddie. You were…you were disgusted and horrified that someone like me could like you. It was all over your damn face!” You exclaim, walking back down the steps to be on the same level as he was.

“Sweetheart, I was in shock. I didn’t ever expect you to tell me those words…the words I’ve been waiting for years to tell you myself,” he says, walking closer to you. The two of you were mere inches away from each other as he takes your hands in his, trying his best to look up at you with his big, brown, doe eyes through his messy bangs. You felt a tear run down your face as he looked at you, feeling as if you needed to pinch yourself to see if you were still asleep and dreaming on Nancy’s pull out.

“W-why didn’t you tell me sooner, Eddie? Especially last night. I felt like a fool,” you ask, your voice trailing off as your sentence tapered into nothing. Keeping his grasp on one of your hands, he brings his other to cup your face and brush away the few tears that collected on your soft cheeks.

“Are you kidding? You’re one of the most gorgeous girls in all of Hawkins, and I’m the town freak. I never thought we’d be as close of friends as we are, let alone you wanting to be mine. I was scared out of my mind, and…I didn’t want anything to break up our friendship,” he tells you, making you giggle. “What’s so funny, sweetheart?”

“It’s just…those are some of the exact same reasons why I never told you any sooner. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend, and I thought…not having you in my life outweighed the hurt of walking around thinking you didn’t like me back,” you explain to him. You look up at him and brush his bangs out his face a bit, getting a better view of his precious eyes on you.

“Guess we’re a couple of idiots, aren’t we?” He asks, making you laugh. His laugh fills your ears which prompts you to wrap your arms around his torso, breathing in his usual smell of weed and musk. The classic Eddie smell you know and love finally filling your senses once again and soothing your nerves. Eddie pulls away ever so slightly to look at you again, his face inches from your own.

“I am so sorry about last night, sweetheart, and I am so sorry for making you feel bad and embarrassed because of how I reacted. Had I known about your feelings, that stupid date would’ve never happened. I just thought maybe moving on would help the feelings I had for you go away, but I started to realize that wasn’t the case when you started acting off during Hellfire. All I wanted to do was stop the game and come comfort you,” he explains to you. He brings his hand back up to cup your cheek and you melt into his touch.

“It’s okay, Eddie. As long as I can finally call you mine, right here and now, I think it’s something I’ll be able to forget about,” you tell him.

As if it was his answer, his lips were quick to move to yours, his smooth pink lips moving against yours, the taste of him almost heavenly…better than anything you could’ve imagined yourself in that head of yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and move deeper into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips, your tongues massaging one another and swapping saliva like your lives depended on it.

Eddie Munson was yours, and you were his. Everything was coming together better than you could’ve imagined. Well, almost.

The two of you pull away from each other and you suck in some deep breaths, making Eddie laugh. You bite your quickly swelling lip and continue to hold him close to you. You feel your heart banging against your chest, except you knew it was for all the right reasons now. The safety of Eddies arms pull you in tight, feeling as if he could never ever let you go and had to stay like this forever.

“I’m going to spend the next however long making it up to you and showing you just how sorry I am for last night. I love you sweetheart, don’t ever get that twisted,” he tells you, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Well…if you say so. You got any ideas in mind for how you’ll make it up to me?” You pull away and ask, quirking a brow as you start walking towards your front door once more, pulling Eddie’s arm as you drag him along with you.

“Oh believe me, I can think of a few.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson imagine #angst

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cloudspotterclub · 2 years ago

Text

everything after (r.l.)

Pairing: remus x fem!reader

Summary: Everyone knows you and Remus are in love with each other, but neither of you are willing to believe that, and hijinks ensue. On one fateful night, his curse threatens to rip you from him, and you're both forced to confront your feelings for each other.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: crack, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, best friends to lovers, a LOT of sirius, barely any james/peter

a/n: Someone pointed out my url could be confused for a hp reference, so I felt compelled to write this fic solely so people who thought that wouldn't be disappointed to find zero hp works, and this somehow ended up being the longest thing I've ever written. I've literally never written for the marauders or any other character in the franchise before, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies!

Extras: mood board

Also, JKR sucks.

“You’re an absolute arse, Sirius Black!” You yelled after the dark-haired boy who was quickly disappearing from your sight, his cackles bouncing off of the castle walls.

You glared at the space he had occupied, pushing back the strands of hair that had fallen in your face in your pursuit of the marauder.

You felt Remus’ arm curl around you in comfort, a pitying smile gracing his face. “Sorry, love, promise I’ll help you get him back.”

“I don’t want to get him back. I want to kill him.”

“We’ve all wanted that at some point.” Remus gave your shoulder a squeeze as he guided you back to the Gryffindor common room, unknowingly sending shivers through your entire body. Even when you were pissed at Sirius, Remus was still able to make you melt with a simple touch.

He glanced down at you, chuckling at how pink your cheeks were. “Y/N, you’ve really got to calm down. You’ve literally gone red in the face,” he said, pinching your cheeks. You swatted his hands away, trying to play it off as annoyance.

Remus was a little concerned you were going to go through with your threat as you were still fuming by the time the two of you reached your bedroom door. He gently grabbed your arms, forcing you to meet his amber eyes. “Y/N, please promise me you won’t get yourself in trouble because of Padfoot’s idiocy.”

You snorted, “There’s no need to look out for me, Rem. I wouldn’t stoop to his level. And if I did, I wouldn’t get caught.” You held his gaze for a moment longer until he released you with a sigh. He’d probably end up helping you with whatever you had planned anyway, regardless of the consequences. Maybe it was because you were so persuasive, or maybe he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.

He swung your door open, cringing at the sight before him. You knelt down to greet Winnie, patting him on the head in an effort to soothe his whimpers. His tail was between his legs, and he kept butting his head against you as a cry for help.

You scowled, “Look at the state of him, Rem. Poor Winnie, he’s miserable.”

The tall boy sat cross-legged next to you, picking up the small dog and nuzzling him against his face. Your heart felt like it was bursting at how adorable they looked, and it was almost enough for you to forgive Sirius entirely. Almost.

“Aw, Y/N,” Remus beamed at you, “he’s so cute, though. Can’t you let this one go?”

“No, I absolutely cannot let this one go. Yes, he’s cute, but he’s a dog, Remus. Winnie clearly prefers being an owl.”

“Thought you liked dogs,” Remus teased, “except Padfoot now, I s’pose.”

“You just talking about yourself, then, Moony?”

Remus cocked his head to the side, a small smile making its way onto his face. “Are you saying you like me?”

A mangled laugh tumbled out of your mouth, surprising the both of you. Your eyes widened as you desperately tried to recover from your blunder. “No! Don’t be daft, Rem. I hate the whole lot of you. You, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. You’re all terrible, and—and I don’t know what the bloody hell I’m on about—just help me with Winnie!”

Remus had a strange look on his face, and you were petrified that he’d finally caught on to your true feelings. But with a shrug, Remus put Winnie down and adopted an indifferent expression. He kept his eyes trained on the pup. “Alright, Winnie, let’s get your feathers back, yeah?”

Several hours later, Winnie was happily flying around your room once more, and Remus had left, declaring he needed to do some studying in the library. Instead of exiting the common room, though, he took the steps up to the boys’ dormitories. He needed time and space to think over the events that had unfolded. Alas, the universe had other plans.

“Moony! Where’ve you been?” Sirius asked, looking up from the charm he was working on.

Remus shot the boy an accusatory glare as he flopped onto his bed, “I’ve been busy cleaning up the mess you made. Thanks a lot for that, mate.”

“Oh, please, you should be thanking me. You got to spend time with Y/N, didn’t you?” The dark-haired boy chucked his wand aside, scooting to the side of his bed closest to Remus’. An impish grin took over his face. “How’d it go? Any progress?”

Remus glared at his friend. He knew Sirius had the best intentions, but he was the worst wingman in the world. Remus had never intended on telling him—or anyone, really—about his feelings for you.

He wasn’t anything like James who loudly announced his love for Lily at every opportunity, or Sirius who shamelessly flirted with every sentient being in the room. Still, everyone pieced together his crush on you pretty quickly. Remus was typically level-headed and good at reading others, but he seemed to lose all sense when it came to you.

In fourth year, he’d noticed you were getting close with a Ravenclaw boy that you shared Potions class with. He’d gotten increasingly irritated at the way the boy always seemed to stop to talk to you in the hallways. Lily had asked you if you were interested, and even though you’d shrugged it off, Remus couldn’t get his mind off of it. It’d gotten to the point where Remus asked Sirius to cover for him one day, as he planned to skip class.

Sirius had gasped in mock horror, “Wait, you’re telling me you want to skip History of Magic? Who are you and what have you done with Moony?”

“Sirius, please! I don’t have time for this, will you please just tell the professor I’m sick if he notices I’m not there?”

“Well, you’re clearly not, so where are you really going? Ooh, can I go with you?”

Remus groaned, “No! It’s a personal thing.”

Sirius smirked as the realization dawned on him. “You mean a Y/N thing? You’re going to go spy on her and that Ravenclaw boy in the astronomy tower, aren’t you?” Remus didn’t respond, but that was confirmation enough for Sirius. “Alright, I’ve got you, mate. I’m telling you, though, you’d better make a move soon. I’d never go for her, obviously, but Y/N has more eyes on her than you think.”

That really didn’t make Remus feel any better.

While Remus did find the two of you huddled close at the astronomy tower, he also clearly heard you telling the other boy you weren’t interested. That was two years ago. Since then, Remus hadn’t worried about anyone else approaching you. Mostly because you seemed uninterested in dating anyone at all, unfortunately for him.

Remus slung his arm over his face. “No, Sirius, no progress. There will never be any progress. Because I’m never going to make a move. Because she doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Sirius slapped his forehead; he couldn’t understand how his best friend could be so stupid sometimes. How could Remus miss the way you practically had hearts in your eyes every time you looked at him? How you hung on every word he said, like he was sharing an intimate secret and not just reciting a simple textbook passage? Sirius would find it endearing if it wasn’t so sickening. He wasn’t the only one who was aware of your mutual pining—the whole bloody castle knew—but he was the one most frequently burdened with your moping.

“Padfoot, did you see that? Why did he linger like that?” You had asked with wide eyes, clutching onto Sirius’ arm.

He sighed, “I don’t know, doll, probably because he’s cold.”

You shoved his shoulder, causing him to nearly fall off his seat. You ignored his complaining and went back to watching Remus as he made his way out of the Great Hall with the other newly-appointed fifth year prefects. “He hugged me longer than usual, I’m sure of it. I could’ve sworn he sniffed my hair too.”

Sirius leaned in and gave your head a loud sniff. “Huh, it does smell nice. What is that, vanilla?” He grabbed a fistful of hair. “Did you switch conditioners because it kind of feels softer too—”

“Sirius, focus!” You hissed, slapping his hand away.

“Bloody hell, what do you want me to say, Y/N? You never believe me anyway when I tell you he’s in love with you too.”

“That’s because it’s speculation. I’m asking for your opinion on my objective observations.” You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sirius gave your hand a pat. “Look, all I know is he never bothers to hug anyone else goodbye when he leaves the room. Is that a good enough observation for you, doll?”

You smiled a little at the thought. He was right—Remus only ever hugged you. Still, it wasn’t enough justification for you to actually tell him how you felt.

You turned back to Sirius, who had already resumed stuffing Sunday roast in his face. “Are you ever going to stop calling me that? Makes me feel like one of your hook ups.”

“What? ‘Doll’? I never call anyone else that.”

“I guess, but I think it makes Remus uncomfortable.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Then the nickname stays,” he said, mouth full of meat.

You threw a napkin at him in disgust. “You’re no help at all, Pads.”

“Then quit asking for help, doll.” He wiped his face and slung an arm around you, leaning in closer. “Now, about that conditioner—”

“Ugh!”

Sirius shook the memory away. It was just one of many times you’d gone to him for help with Remus. You were both so helpless, it drove him mad. Even so, he tried his best to nudge you towards each other whenever he could.

He studied Remus’ defeated figure splayed out on the bed. “So, what’re you going to do now, then?”

Remus removed his arm from his face, revealing the ever-present frown he had when talking about his chances with you. “What I’ve always done. Sit back and make sure she’s happy.”

True to his word, Remus continued to treat you like he always had, and you did the same. That was, until the night everything changed.

During full moons, you typically stayed away and trusted the rest of the marauders to look out for Remus. You’d only join them at the Shrieking Shack after everything had settled, and you were on healing duty in case anyone was hurt. Lily was the only one completely in the dark about Remus’ condition; it was the one thing James kept from her to ensure her safety. When you first found out, Remus had begged you to stay away, but you insisted they needed the help. He finally conceded when you promised not to become an Animagus and remain at the castle until you were sure he’d turned back.

On this particular night, you mistimed your entrance by a few seconds. You had dozed off while studying for the next day’s Charms exam, and woke up to complete darkness. Your torch had blown out, and the only light came from the moon beams filtering through the window by your desk. In your sleepy haze, you’d neglected to check for the marauders’ signal, instead fearing that you were already too late to mend any serious injuries.

You groggily threw a robe over your clothes, reignited your torch, and crept out of your room without alerting any of your roommates. You scurried along the path you’d memorized like the back of your hand, every step pushing you further into consciousness. You picked up your pace as you grew increasingly worried for your friends, expertly maneuvering around the Whomping Willow.

When you finally burst into the Shack, you realized you had made a grave mistake. All four pairs of animal eyes were locked on you, three of them wide with terror. The remaining pair belonged to the hulking werewolf sneering at you, and time seemed to slow as several things dawned on you.

One, this was the first time you’d seen Remus like this.

Two, this was the first time you were completely terrified of him.

And three, in your haste, you’d forgotten your wand.

Before anyone could react, he lunged at you.

You let out an ear-piercing scream as the enormous beast knocked you on your back, its foul breath stinging your nose as it snarled at your face just inches below it. You normally prided yourself in thinking on your feet, but the weight of this creature on you had you paralyzed with fear. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to do anything but pray that it would be over quickly.

You screamed again as you felt a sharp pain on your leg, and suddenly the wolf was being hauled off of you.

You took a few ragged breaths before building up the courage to open your eyes. First, you saw Remus collapsing onto the floor, Peter and James rushing to his side. Then, you registered Sirius hurtling towards you.

“Christ, doll, are you alright? What the hell are you doing here?” He frantically helped you into a sitting position, moving you against a wall. His eyes were wide with panic as they landed on your leg. “Holy fucking shit, Y/N.”

Your eyes were glazed over, looking past Sirius’ shoulder over at Remus, who was beginning to get up. You felt a dull pain in your head where it connected with the floor when you were tackled. “I think I might be a little concussed, Pads,” you mumbled.

Sirius was saying something you weren’t listening to, your eyes locked on Remus. He seemed a little dazed, but otherwise unharmed. As he rose to his feet, he finally became aware of your presence. His face twisted in confusion for a millisecond before switching to horror as he realized what must’ve happened.

You didn’t break eye contact as you watched him crumple to his knees next to you.

You shot him a lopsided grin. “Hey, Remmy. You okay?”

He looked down at himself, feeling for the pain he usually felt when transforming. Oddly, he felt none. He looked back at you incredulously. “Am I okay? Y/N, what’re you doing here? Look at you, I—I hurt you, oh God, your leg—”

“M’ leg?” You glanced down, seeing the deep lacerations on your thigh for the first time. Blood was streaming steadily out of the wound. You looked back at Remus blankly. “Oh. I’m bleeding, Moony.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you’re bleeding real bad.” Remus gulped, feeling the lump in his throat growing tenfold as he stared at the blood pool quickly forming beneath you.

Remus felt a hand on his shoulder. “She might have a concussion too, mate,” Sirius spoke softly, “I think we need to get her out of here. Fast.”

You squinted at the two boys. “That why I’m feeling all fuzzy?”

Remus began reaching for you, but abruptly stopped himself. You weren’t too out of it just yet, and noticed his hesitation. You reached for his hand, offering a smile as you squeezed it. “S’alright, Rem. You won’t hurt me.”

That was all the reassurance he needed. Remus pushed his guilt and discomfort aside and cupped your face in his hands, eyes burning with worry and determination. “Alright, I’m going to pick you up, and it might hurt a lot, but it’ll be worse if you struggle, okay, love? I’m so sorry.”

You nodded in response, and his arms quickly made their way around you. You savored the sensation of being pressed against his chest, the shock keeping you from feeling much else.

Remus took a few deep breaths, steadying himself before hoisting you up. You let out a pained cry at the feeling of your leg being jostled, curling further into Remus. “Think the shock is wearing off now, Rem,” you uttered.

His heart clenched at the sight, and he fought to keep himself together. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. He could feel your heavy breathing on his neck, but what really concerned him was your blood, which he could still feel dripping onto him.

The other boys led the way back to the castle, Remus trying to move as fast as possible while inflicting minimal pain on you. As the long trek went on, you were beginning to feel increasingly drowsy, a weight tugging at your eyelids.

Remus’ voice heightened in panic when he saw the way your head was lolling to the side. “Hey, hey, no, stay awake, love. Don’t do that, Y/N. You’ve got to stay awake for me, okay, sweetheart?”

“‘M so sleepy, Rem. Wanna sleep,” you slurred, barely coherent as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

“I know, darling, I know. Just a little farther, please just—just hold on for a little while longer, alright?” he begged, pressing a kiss to your temple. There was so much blood, why was there so much blood?

Remus kept talking to you the whole way to the castle, and you fought to keep your eyes open like he was telling you to. But eventually, you gave in and Remus’ pleads fell on deaf ears as you went completely limp. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he desperately shook you, getting no response. Luckily, the Hospital Wing was in sight by then, and the boys broke into a run until they burst through the doors.

Madam Pomfrey jumped from her seat at the sudden commotion, rushing over to the group of boys.

“Please, help her!” Remus wailed, laying you onto the nearest bed.

As James hurriedly explained the situation to Madam Pomfrey, Sirius tugged the weeping Remus away from your side. “She’s going to be okay, Moony, I promise,” he assured Remus, despite his own tears.

As much as he wanted to believe that, no words could comfort Remus at the moment. There was no stopping the sobs that shook his body, and he found himself sliding to the ground, hand over his mouth as he watched your body being tended to.

Everything was a blur after that. He vaguely recalled Madam Pomfrey ordering him onto the bed next to you when she was done with you. He mindlessly complied as she mended the small scratches and bruises littering his own skin. Truthfully, he hadn’t even noticed them at all. His eyes were glued to you the entire time. He didn’t think he could look away even if he tried, not even when you’d been properly bandaged. Not when Madam Pomfrey asserted you’d make a full recovery. Not when she kicked the rest of the marauders out after ensuring they weren’t injured. No, he watched you until you awoke.

Surprisingly, it only took a couple of hours. He had still been sitting motionless on the edge of his bed when he saw you begin to stir. Immediately, he rushed to your side, eyes brimming with tears yet again as he heard you let out a low groan that was soon followed by your eyes blinking open. Remus nearly burst with joy.

You, on the other hand, were pretty confused. “Remus? What’s going on? Shit, my leg hurts like a bitch.”

He let out a strained chuckle, but shame soon replaced his short-lived relief. He shifted his gaze away from you. “You came a little early to the Shack. I was still…that thing. I attacked you. You have a mild concussion, and you lost a lot of blood. I’m so unbelievably sorry, Y/N.”

The memories returned to you, and you winced at the image of the werewolf leaping onto you. While you would probably need some time to recover physically and mentally, by the way he was avoiding your face, you knew this was going to be harder for Remus than it would ever be for you.

You grunted as you attempted to push yourself up, Remus’ hands immediately pushing you back down, his brows creased with worry.

“Woah, hey, stay down, love. You can’t get up yet.” His large hands were firmly anchoring your shoulders to the bed.

You put one of your hands on top of his, giving it a squeeze that made Remus’ breath hitch. “I just want to sit up, Rem. Help me?”

Your eyes had him in a chokehold. For the millionth time, he gave in to your request and eased you back against the wall. He complied once again when you tugged on his arm, settling down next to you.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, side effects of Madam Pomfrey’s treatment, or your brush with death, but you scooted up against Remus and laid your head on his shoulder. You felt him tense underneath you, and you figured you’d probably react similarly had the situation been reversed.

“Remus, you have to know I don’t blame you at all,” you said with as much conviction as you could muster.

The boy stared straight ahead as he struggled to process the emotions overwhelming him. He managed a weak, “I know,” in response.

You continued, “If anything, it’s my fault. I came too early, I didn’t wait for the signal.” You knew he was about to interrupt you, but you cut him off, “And I know you’d disagree. You’d never blame me. So know that I feel the exact same towards you, alright?”

He gave you a curt nod, rendered speechless by your words and actions.

Countless thoughts raced through your own mind, but one in particular was nagging at you. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t wait any longer to bring it up. “Remus, remember the day Sirius turned Winnie into a dog?”

“Yes, I remember,” he breathed.

“I lied to you that day.” You took your head off his shoulder to find him looking at you in confusion.

“Lied about what?”

“When you were helping me reverse the charm, you asked me if I liked you. And I said no.” Now or never. “I lied.”

Remus was certain you could hear how loud his heart was pounding. “What do you mean? You like me?”

You squeezed your eyes shut before shooting him a defeated grin. “More like I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since first year.”

Remus’ jaw hung open. “You…what?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I love you, you git. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but please don’t make me say it again—”

Remus’ lips crashed onto yours before you could utter another word. You gasped at the contact, but quickly returned the kiss. You felt warmth spread throughout your entire body as his lips moved against yours in a way that was both unexpected and familiar. He held your cheek with one hand, the other tangled in your hair, tingles emanating from every inch of skin he touched. You melted into his touch, dragging your hands down his back and—

“Oy! No snogging in the hospital wing!”

The two of you broke apart, startled by Madam Pomfrey’s reprimand. She slinked out of view after giving you a prolonged scowl. You and Remus looked at each other, dissolving into laughter.

“So, I take it you feel the same way?”

The grin never left Remus’ face as he pulled you into his side. “Yes, you twit. I’ve been hopelessly in love with you ever since I walked onto the Hogwarts Express and laid eyes on the prettiest girl I’d ever seen in my life. Then, I actually talked to you, and that was it. I was long gone. Unsalvageable, really.”

Your cheeks burned at his confession. “I honestly can’t believe you just said that, Remus Lupin.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe Sirius was right.”

“What?” Your head shot up. “But Sirius has known I’ve liked you for forever. Why didn’t he say anything?”

Remus thought back to the many, many conversations he’d had with Sirius about you. “I reckon he did, darling. In retrospect, I think everyone knew. You and I are just too stubborn to listen.”

“I refuse to give Sirius the satisfaction of being right,” you huffed.

Remus laughed, planting a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, that too.”

A few days later, you’d both been discharged and were back in class. Everything was back to normal, except for the fact that you were now dating Remus Lupin.

You hadn’t realized how much affection he’d previously been holding back, all of it being unleashed on you now that it was all out in the open. If he was protective before, it didn’t hold a candle to the way he treated you now. He was constantly fussing over you, using your wounded leg as an excuse to coddle you.

“Angel, here, use me as a crutch. Just grab my arm right there and—”

“Remus, you’re already carrying all my books. My leg’s almost completely healed now, I promise you I can walk on my own.”

Your boyfriend shot you a skeptical look as you wobbled towards the stairs ahead of you. You knew you’d never make it all the way up the steps to the astronomy tower on your own, but the concussion hadn’t made you any less hard-headed. You were determined to prove to Remus he could stop worrying about you. It was a futile effort—Remus would worry about you for the rest of time, whether or not you were injured.

Remus glanced at Sirius. “I don’t know what she’s thinking, she’s just going to hurt herself, don’t you think she should let me help?”

“Sure, she probably does need your assistance there.” Sirius crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what she doesn’t need, mate? You coming up with a new pet name for her every other day. I mean, angel? It’s revolting. And don’t get me started on—”

“I’ll stop when you stop calling her doll,” Remus said smugly.

“Never.”

“Then sod off, mate,” Remus called over his shoulder as he jogged over to you.

After a few more minutes of bargaining, you finally allowed Remus to dump your books on Sirius and carry you up the steep steps. You complained the whole way up, of course.

Once you made it to the top, Remus set you down and helped you over to one of the benches by the edge of the tower overlooking Hogwarts’ grounds. He took his place next to you while Sirius set his things down a little farther away, grumbling about how heavy your books were.

“Hey,” Sirius called, “you’re finally the one up here with her, Moony!”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What does he mean, Rem?”

Remus bit his lip, turning you away from Sirius. “No idea what he’s on about, love.”

You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t push it. You’d bring it up later. Right now, you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend. You loved being able to call him that.

He pulled you closer, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, sighing in content. “Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real,” you said quietly.

“I feel the same way. And to think we could’ve had this six years earlier if one of us had just said something.”

You groaned, “Ugh, don’t remind me. I get so annoyed thinking about all the time wasted.”

Remus pressed his lips to the top of your head. “Well, I wouldn’t call it time wasted. I still loved every moment I spent with you, even though it was torturous at times. There were so many times I almost gave in and told you.”

“Tell me about it. Do you know how much time I spent analyzing every hug you gave me? I completely terrorized Sirius for years.”

Remus chuckled, “He deserves it.”

You blinked up at him as he tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, relishing in the comfort that small gesture brought. “Remus, do you think we’ll be together for the rest of our lives?”

You’d never seen him look so earnest as he whispered, “I promise you eternity and everything after, darling.”

You smiled, meeting his lips halfway, never tiring of how they felt on you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sirius suddenly shouted, causing you to break apart and glare at him.

“What, Sirius?”

He grinned sheepishly. “About that conditioner—”

You and Remus yelled in unison, “Shut up, Sirius!”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders #marauders era #harry potter #everything after 🌙

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thearvariblues · 4 years ago

Text

The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #my fics #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #idiots in love #immortal jaskier #non-human jaskier #they're stupid your honor #they share a single braincell #and yennefer has the custody of it #also madeleine hyland is jaskier's sister in this

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getouswh0re · 3 years ago

Note

Howdy!! Could I request Yandere Gojo and Geto from jjk, with a special-grade sorcerer reader? Ty in advance, I really like your writing!✨

an; thank you for the love ˊᗜˋ💕 here are some drabbles for them separately, hope you liked it :3

warnings; yandere, gore, blood, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behaviour. do not condone such actions in real life, and please kindly read at your own discretion.

THE night was quiet, almost serene, totally at odds with the glowering menace in Geto’s eyes. Gone was the subtle gentleness in those inky slits you had grown to adore; in its place, inscrutable darkness bore holes into the back of your skull as you shuddered beneath the curse user’s glare.

It was still Geto in the flesh: the same face, unique hairstyle and robes he’d wear just like any other day. Yet it was no longer the special-grade sorcerer whom you once knew and loved. You never knew what caused such a drastic change in him; all you wished for, was for the old Geto to return, hoping that all of this was none other than another nightmare.

“Suguru? W-What are you doing at my door? It’s already late, you should be taking some rest ...” A hint of dismay — maybe sadness, ghosted his expression when the raven picked up the quivers in your tone. Nonetheless, a gentle smile adorns his face, emerging from the shadows to reveal himself as the raven explained himself.

“Why? Can’t I come and visit you?” He cocked his head, a playful smirk evident. Geto never ceased to make your heart flutter; perhaps it was his flirtatious nature and mellow personality that drew you towards him, but even after being one of his closest friends for a long time, at times you felt like you couldn’t understand him at all, with this being one of the occurrences.

You chortled, about to invite the raven into your apartment when warning bells started to ring incessantly in your head, warning you that there was something awry about him once you caught a glimpse at his clothes imbrued with crimson splatters.

“Sugu ... what is that on your clothes?”

“Oh this? Satoru splashed me with red paint, it’s not much of a big deal.” You knew he was lying, instantly picking up the revolting metallic stench from the stains. Dread filled your mind while you staggered back, keeping a distance from the male who gave you a perplexed look in return.

“You and I know a smell like this isn’t red paint ...” Trying to be as calm as you could, you retracted a step backwards with every stride Geto took. “Be honest with me. What on earth have you done?”

“Sharp as ever, y/n.” A condescending look took over as Geto finally revealed his true colours. “The world needs to change. All these monkeys are the reasons why curses exist. They can’t even control their cursed energy properly, and we sorcerers have to battle with death every time a curse poses as a threat to them. Their ignorance is revolting in its core, and I believe to make the world a better place, it would be better off to remove all of them out of sight. Don’t you agree —“

“What the fuck are you thinking?” Unable to withhold your seething rage, you snapped at the curse user. “This isn’t what sorcerers should do! What you are doing is of no difference from a brutal murderer Geto! I can’t fucking believe you!”

“How can you think of me like they y/n? That hurts my heart you know.”

Before you could even scream, he was already inches away, blood-stained hands caressing your cheeks tenderly as if you were made of fragile glass. “I just want to make life easier, there’s no need for us to put our lives at stake every time we exorcise curses. Right? We could be enjoying peaceful days together, free from the dangers of this world ...”

“Stop! Your delusions are sick, this isn’t you at all Geto! I don’t know what is wrong with your brain, but it’s never too late to turn back —“

Suddenly, your vision darkened — your consciousness sinking into a bottomless void as the raven carried you in a bridal style, the two of you vanishing into the tenebrosity of the night.

“And I thought you were the only one who’d understand me ... love.” He shook his head in disapproval, but the disappointment in his eyes were eventually replaced with glee as Geto stared at your limp figurine in his arms.

“But don’t worry, what needs to be done will be done. For our sake, for our future together.”

EVERYTHING would always be uglier up close.

At first glance, one might find Gojo Satoru a perfect man: with talent, looks and wealth all in one package. Men envy the greatest sorcerer of all time, and women grovel at his feet, desperate for a sprinkle of the man’s attention. Despite living the life everyone dreams to be in, the heir of the Gojo clan couldn’t care less about how the world spins around his axis. For the sorcerer has his eyes set on something much more worthy of his time and effort.

He is a man of determination, willing to achieve his goals with whatever means possible — even resorting to dirtying his own hands. It is such an irony that underneath the charming façade, such a disgusting soul exists.

“For the last time Satoru, I am not interested in dating anybody.” Heaving an exasperated sigh, you politely shoved the lavish presents piling up at your front door back into the man’s arms.

“I feel really flattered that you have feelings for me, I truly do. But I’m sure you know as sorcerers, we fight with death every day. If there is any regret that I’d dread to have ... it would be to leave everything I love behind. And I would rather die alone than leave my partner suffering on their own.”

“That’s what I love about you y/n.”

A loving sigh slipping from his tongue, Gojo took a step forward, cupping your face with utter delicacy. Yet you felt more than revolted by his sudden intimacy, struggling to writhe away from his tightening grip.

“You are always so kind, so considerate ... something I cannot find in anyone else other than you. But think about it sweetheart! You and I are both special-grade sorcerers, but I can protect you from the curses — at the same time giving you the moon and stars. We could move in together, you wouldn’t even need to work anymore. Why make your life harder when I could simply provide for you? Seriously —”

“S-Satoru, I hate to tell you this but you’re pushing the boundaries right now.” Trying to reason with the sorcerer, you spoke with a harsher tone, praying that Gojo would get the hint and respect your choices. “You’re out of your mind! And why would you force

Nonetheless, your words fell on deaf ears.

“Now this is not how you should react when someone offers you their heart and soul.” The light in his cerulean eyes darkened, cyan hues glimmering beneath the penumbra of nightfall. “And I know you are a smart young woman, so you’d come to realise what is in your best interest. I really don’t want to do this to you y/n; but if you are trying to push me away from your life again, I would have to keep you to my side — the hard way.”

With that, he pulled down his blindfold.

You were aware of how dangerous Infinite Void was; still, experiencing it first-hand was one hell of a terrifying experience. Fleeting images flashed across your vision as if all of this was in fastforward motion, depicting your fate in the past along with future. As certain blurred vestiges showed up, your heart sank in indescribable despair; moments of you and none other than Gojo were portrayed — blood splattered across the labyrinth of streets in Tokyo, your trembling hands intertwined with his, platinum bands wrapped around both of your ring fingers, adorable kids that were exact replicas of both of you. At this point, you could feel the will to fight back dwindling to fickle embers.

No matter what you did, Gojo would always find his way back to you.

Even if he had to tear the world apart with his hands.

#🖤 requests #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere geto #yandere geto x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere oneshots #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines

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writercole · 3 years ago

Text

Priority Request

Summary: Poe Dameron is a pain in the ass pilot who always wants special treatment. You hate him. Until you don’t.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN Reader Words: ~1400 Warnings: mentions of battle casualties, language, enemies to lovers A/N: Thanks to @catching-up-with-kayla and @deangirl93 for looking over this and encouraging my new obsession. Don’t know what I’d do without you beauts.

You were under an x-wing, cursing as you tried juggling the part you were replacing, the bolt you were trying to start to secure said part, and the ratchet you needed to torque the bolt down when an annoyingly cheerful voice rang across the hangar.

“Hey, Sparky, where are you?”

You debated hiding further beneath the fighter plane for a moment, quickly realizing that the man that owned the voice would find you anyway. Poe Dameron was a huge thorn in your side, often pulling you away from other jobs to have a look at his jet because something wasn’t right. You shoved out of the small space with a growl, standing and shuffling to the front of the row like a child being dragged to school.

“What do you want?” You were surly about being interrupted to begin with. It was even worse when it was the cocky face of the man who believed he was the best fighter in the resistance. Well, maybe that part was true but it didn’t grant him any special treatment from you.

“Why are you always so hostile towards me?” he sighed.

“Does it really matter, Dameron? Make your request so I can get back to work,” you told him exasperatedly, allowing your shoulders to sag in exhaustion.

“Something is wrong with my jet,” he stated plainly, crossing his arms over his chest as he attempted to bribe you with a pleading gaze.

“And?” you scoffed, turning your palms up.

“You need to look at it.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have real problems that need to be fixed,” you snapped. “Because I am not going to go searching tip to tail for a phantom problem that no one else can find. Because I am not your personal mechanic nor am I at your beck and call.”

“You’d do it for Finn,” he grumbled.

“Finn doesn’t interrupt me working to go to another hanger to diagnose a problem that I can’t get to manifest,” you explained. “He comes here, usually with proof of an issue.”

“But I have an issue!” he reiterated.

“Your issue doesn’t exist!” you shouted back, your hands flying in the air in your frustration.

“Yes it does!” he argued loudly.

“Get out of my hangar, flyboy,” you demanded as you pointed to the door.

Poe leveled a fiery gaze at you before turning and storming off. You willed yourself to calm down, knowing that the work you needed to do would only be more difficult if you were frustrated.

You had finally caught up on the maintenance that needed to be done and could begin working on the repair orders that hadn’t been able to be handled by anyone else. As you scrolled through the list, Poe’s name stuck out. You groaned and opened the ticket, swearing loudly when the description of the problem was only “something is off.”

Something inside of you snapped and you saw red. Storming over to the neighboring hangar you knew the pilots congregated in, you held on to the seething anger you felt, ready to unleash it onto the handsome face of your resident pain in the ass.

The first face you saw when you walked in was Finn. He took one look at you and ducked away quickly. You followed him, knowing he was going to find Poe and likely warn him. But he underestimated how willing you were to make a scene in front of everyone.

“Dameron!” you shouted, your voice echoing off of the walls of the hangar, silencing conversations as your murderous glare cleared the way to the dark haired pilot you were looking for.

“Hey, Sparky. Got my jet fixed yet?” he smirked, making the pilots around him snicker.

“First of all, don’t call me sparky,” you snapped as you came to a stop right in front of him. “Secondly, I cannot fix a problem that doesn’t exist. I don’t have time to baby your fighter when I have ten other repair orders plus maintenance to handle.”

Your voice had made most of the other pilots stand down or slink away. It hadn’t done anything to make Poe back off, though. It only seemed to irritate him further.

“What is your problem with me?” he spat exasperatedly.

“You think you’re so entitled because you can fly a damn plane. Big fucking deal. I’m not going to clear my workload of actual, real, fixable problems because there was more tailwind that slowed you down!” you shouted.

“A tailwind would speed you up, actually,” he corrected with another smirk, his dark brown eyes dancing with mischief.

“Who fucking cares! I don’t have time for your crap and until you have a real problem that you can pinpoint, keep away from my hangar!” You spun on your heel and strode away, leaving an entire squadron frozen in awe.

General Organa had requested that you assist with the return of the remaining squadron, citing that there had been more than a few casualties and several more injuries. You shifted into hyperfocus mode and tended some wounds with your basic first aid training. The sound of approaching planes had stopped long ago but the pilots were still staring at the open hangar door as if they were waiting for someone to show up.

You finished dressing a wound and wandered over to where Finn was standing, realization hitting you full force as you stopped next to him. “Finn,” you started, “where’s Dameron?”

The look on his face made your heart sink.

“No,” you whispered, searching his eyes for the answer you were hoping for.

“He was with us then he wasn’t,” Finn said softly, turning his gaze back to the sky.

You felt your knees get weak and you gripped his arm for support. Poe couldn’t have – he was the best pilot in the resistance, dammit! Your chest felt heavy and you were struggling to breathe. Your mind raced with scenarios and possibilities and you didn’t hear Finn calling your name until he yanked you backward.

A battered x-wing landed in front of you and Poe Dameron stepped out of the cockpit. You launched yourself at him without thinking and pulled him in for a searing kiss. He was shocked at first but wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back.

You finally separated when you needed to breathe, your eyes opening slowly to find Poe looking at you softly.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Dameron,” you scolded, swatting him across the chest.

“I always knew you liked me deep down,” he chuckled.

“Oh, shut up,” you sassed, ducking your head in embarrassment. You composed yourself after a moment and asked, “so what happened?”

“Lost electrical and comms on the way back. Had to go old school after I rebooted,” he explained. “Fuel system was capped in emergency mode and it took ages to limp back.”

“Well, I can probably have that all fixed in a couple of days,” you confirmed.

“Oh, so you believe me now?” he scoffed playfully as he pinched your side.

“These are real, confirmable, diagnosable problems. Not ‘something is off’ like you tried to tell me.”

“Hey, that something off probably caused this problem,” he theorized, pointing a finger in your face, his eyes dancing with mischief and a smile playing on his lips.

“And I will fix the problems that unidentified something caused,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

“Oh, do I get priority now that you’re admitting to liking me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not a chance,” you denied with a snort.

“I don't get priority?” he pouted.

“I didn’t admit to liking you,” you corrected, pointing your own finger in his face.

“But you kissed me because you were so relieved that I was alive,” he countered, his arms releasing you for the first time since he landed.

“Did I?” you questioned with a smirk. “Maybe it was a bet,” you quipped as you turned around to go back to your hangar.

“A bet?!” Poe exclaimed.

You kept walking, noticing how the area had cleared. .A hand closed around your arm and spun you around, back into Poe’s arms, his lips finding yours hungrily. You melted into his kiss with a sigh and he pulled back slowly, his face inches from yours.

“Maybe it wasn’t a bet,” you whispered.

“Uh huh,” he agreed.

“Maybe I do kinda like you and I didn’t know until I thought you were gone.”

“Uh huh.”

“But you still won’t get priority for repairs.”

“Oh, come on!”

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @downanddirtydean @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @lassie-bird @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll

#writercole #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron x reader #star wars fanfic #gender neutral reader #gn reader #enemies to lovers

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namfinessed · 3 years ago

Text

a lil bad - m.yg.

genre: fluff, angst (11.3k) e2l

summary: you hate min yoongi the most so how the fuck do you end up in his tattoo shop? (fools!universe)

masterlist series masterlist

you don’t know how it happens in every single party, but you always end up next to yoongi, grumbling and complaining but still with him beside you and even after several incidents of pouring drinks on each other and pretending it was a mistake, or just plain insulting each other right to your faces, or ruining dates for the other by fake flirting, you always end up next to him.

you never really understood your hatred for min yoongi, but it’s always been there, whenever you see him, you always either leave the room to not be around him at all or you start bickering with him until the day ends, it’s usually always the latter, he knows just how to rile you up, he knows just what to say to piss you right off, and you always give in to his stupid arguments.

and apparently, even right now, with all your friends dancing and enjoying themselves, you stand in the corner while idly mixing your drink slowly, and it takes everything in you to not roll your eyes when yoongi catches your eye across the room and starts his making his way over to you.

“what are you doing here, doll?” he asks, hands in pockets, his ever-present smirk settled nicely on his face, the nickname that falls from his mouth makes you roll your eyes, he’s been calling you that forever, no matter how many times you’ve complained and hit him for it.

you notice his tattoos peeking from the collar of his leather jacket which mirrors the one on your body. it is hard to not do a full head to toe scan when yoongi manages to look this good even as he’s half drunk.

you hate him but you’re not blind, you know that he is attractive and he knows it too, he knows it all too well.

“none of your goddamn business, min yoongi, get back to your friends.” your bitter reply is no surprise to him and that becomes evident with how he laughs at you and pulls himself up on the table you were resting on, looking down at you with pure amusement dancing in his eyes.

“they’re shit drunk, and i don’t want to deal with anyone vomiting all over me” he shrugs as he takes another swig and you turn to look at his friends who were falling over each other and laughing for no reason at all.

somewhere in you, you know that he’s lying, he wouldn’t mind if his friends vomit over him, he wouldn’t care even when he’s going to be the one who will drive them home after this and make sure that they’re safe but yoongi doesn’t need to know that you know about him.

“such a good friend” you dryly muse and walk away from him, only for him to jump off the table and follow you, you stop in your steps and he does too, making you grit your teeth and look at him with an evident glare in your eyes.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“none of your goddamn business, doll.”

yeah, you hate him. you take back every nice thought you’ve ever had about him.

he gives you an innocent smile and it takes everything in you to not strangle him. you swiftly turn the other way and speed walk till you’re outside the house, taking a deep breathe now that you’re free from the obnoxious people and music. just when you stretch your legs out to settle there for a bit, you see someone barging their way out, almost hitting your arm, you turn to curse them out just to see jimin come out from the same way, following the previous person.

you only know jimin because he works in namjoon’s bakery, and he’s in one of your classes, you’re friendly enough to greet each other but that’s it, so when you see him fighting with the person who barged out first, and the fight showing no signs of calming down, you roll your eyes at how stupid they sound, why can’t they just kiss already? you can literally feel the sexual tension in the air and they seem to be in absolute denial about it, but deciding that it was best to leave them alone, you unwillingly tip toe your way back into the house.

the party is still raging and loud and you can’t really distinguish who is who anymore, so you just push your way through the crowd, murmuring excuse me’s and curses to people who push you, only to find yourself in the living room where all your friends are gathered. they immediately perk up at your entrance, drunk smiles gleaming even in the darkness and you hate to admit that you sense some mischief in the air.

“i was looking for you, come here, sit down” jennie smiles as soon as she sees you and pats the seat next to her, you hesitantly sit and warily eye the bottle in the middle of the circle you’re sat at.

“what’s going on here?”

“we’re playing spin the bottle because we literally have nothing left to do” jisoo complains from opposite to you and you throw your head back with a groan, at the corner of your eye, you see yoongi walk in with his own friends and you don’t even want to look up again.

“how bored are you guys?” you complain but get comfortable in your seat anyway, it’s not like you were any less bored than they were.

“just say you’re too much of a wimp to play and leave already.” yoongi’s voice is crystal clear even with the loud music and everyone starts ooh’ing at his sentence, all of them were already used to your endless bickering and they always act like they know something you both don’t, you never cared enough to ask them anyway. you rolled your eyes before setting them on him with a bored expression.

“you’re still standing min yoongi, so who’s the real wimp here?” and now, everyone’s ooh’ing at you, he looks up at you with the same smirk that always annoys you and cocks an eyebrow before sitting directly in front of you, then pins you with only challenge clear in his eyes.

“okay, so the rules are pretty simple.” you look away from him and focus on listening to chaeyoung as she explains what exactly are the set rules.

“so when we spin the bottle, the people at the ends of the bottle either kiss each other or one of them gets to give a dare to the other, and the other cannot refuse” jisoo smiles at you as she plays with the bottle in her hand and you know what’s going on in her little head, she’s always been convinced that you have a crush on yoongi but you were close to vomiting on her when she told you that, she hasn’t backed down though and if you know her, she’s probably thinking this is some magical way to get you to kiss yoongi but you would jump into a well before that happens.

“the only person i want to kiss in this room is you” yoongi wears a wide, confident grin as he points to the random girl he’s been talking up since the beginning of the party and you watch with raised eyebrows as she blushes and buries her face into his shoulder.

poor girl, you wince to yourself.

and yoongi’s drinking up the affection, cooing at her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, not letting her go even as the bottle spins speedily and lands on taehyung and some girl you’ve seen around the campus, you have never really looked at her but she does seem a little out of place in the party, and you make a note to yourself to talk to her later, you hate that feeling of being isolated and you wouldn’t want her to feel that way.

everyone watches them with excited and curious eyes, taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at the girl who looks like she wants to run away, but then taehyung reaches over and whispers something into her ear and everyone erupts into cheers when he reaches for his hoodie on the floor and drops it on their heads, the hoodie comes off to reveal one flushed face and taehyung who is positively beaming. though the kiss is over, at least you assume it is over, everyone’s gaze lingers on the quiet girl who all but is biting on her lip and averting her gaze to the floor.

“stop making her uncomfortable and spin the bottle already” you say plainly as you leaned back on your hands, you could tell she wanted anything but attention, she just had a stiff posture and this was clearly new for her, so you decided to help her out. she flashed you a quick grateful look and you gently smile at her.

and the bottle kept spinning, most opted for the kisses, and each time someone would kiss, the entire room would be chaos, with people whooping and waving their hands, you bury your head into your hands each time that happens because you can’t believe most of these people are well in their 20’s and are still this excited over seeing their peers kiss but you enjoy the energy in the air, it’s familiar and being around your friends is something you’re always grateful for.

“wait wait yoongi didn’t spin the bottle” lisa points out along with chaeyoung and they both have happy smirks on their faces as everyone nods in agreement, soon cheering him on to spin it already and yoongi surrenders with raised hands.

the bottle spins and you hold your breath because you would do anything to not be at the other end of it.

you exhale in relief when it lands on who yoongi wanted it to land on, the girl who’s been around him all night, he just looks at her with a smile and she leans forward with sparkling eyes, and you look away just when the sound of smacking lips fills the air, immediately everyone starts shouting and that’s when you understand that maybe the kiss wasn’t innocent at all, you almost do a double take when you hear a silent moan in midst of all the chaos, looking back when the shouts die down to see the girls with pink cheeks and yoongi who had a proud smile on his face.

and you don’t know why, but at that moment, your annoyance for him touches the roof.

maybe because he was oozing confidence always?

maybe because it sounded like he was an incredible kisser?

maybe because he’s got someone blushing right next to him with just a kiss?

you don’t know and frankly you also don’t understand why you stand up from the circle right then, everyone’s eyes lands on you and you shift on your feet, you hate attention, and you particularly hate yoongi who immediately looks at you standing.

“i just need a refill, i will be back, you guys play” you gesture towards the kitchen and leave the living room with fast steps, you only let out a breath of relief once you’re in the kinda empty kitchen, it still has like 10 people but not one of them gives a fuck about you, which is exactly what you need.

you spot the tequila bottles but they are empty, making you groan out loud in frustration and you want to throw a chair into the window, because how the fuck do these people drink so fast? last time you were here, there were 10 huge, full bottles and they’re just gone now.

“fucking great” you mumble and squeeze your eyes shut as you lean back on the counter.

you don’t even want to go back to the circle and see yoongi’s face or the girl that he’s with who seems to blush about everything like who’s going to tell her that yoongi will probably drop her in a week?

you stomp your way back to the living room, and sit down with a huff, not looking at anyone, just letting the game continue around you and zoning out until someone asks you something.

your eyes don’t leave the bottle in the middle of the circle, staring as it spins and claims its victims, and you only snap out of your thoughts when jennie nudges you, you are a little startled when she pushes the bottle into your hand with a small smile.

“it’s your turn, spin it” she gently instructs, and you almost just want to cuddle her and go to sleep because she’s always been so nice to you and maybe it’s because you’re half-drunk and you’re mildly irritated by everything, but you feel so grateful to her soft voice.

but her words also make you pause, it’s your turn after god knows how many turns and you want to skip it, there’s no one in this room that you want to kiss.

“see, i told you, she’s a wimp” you glare up at yoongi as he stares you down, and with a grumble, you snatch the bottle from jennie’s hands and give it one rough spin. you silently pray that it lands on anyone but yoongi.

your heart almost pauses when it seems to slow down near yoongi, but then it tilts right at the last second, you feel lighter as you look up to see jisoo at the other end of the bottle, who has a cheeky smile on her face, you lean back with your won smile because you could just kiss her, it’s no big deal.

“so, kiss?” you raise your eyebrows at her and she narrows her eyes at you playfully, looking you up and down and you giggle at her fake horny expression.

“as much as i love kissing, i have a dare for you.” you eye her cautiously as she says this, why isn’t she just opting for the kiss?

“i’m not stripping down naked if that’s what you’re going to say” you deadpan, to lighten the tension in the room and everyone laughs, taking swigs of their drinks and someone yells party pooper.

“why can’t we just kiss and get it over with?” you whined when she stayed silent and jisoo shook her head happily as everyone’s ears and eyes focused on what would leave jisoo’s mouth, she smirks a little at their enthusiasm and your slightly scared expression.

“the dare is” she pauses for dramatics and you throw the bottle cap at her making her jump and giggle.

“okay okay, the dare is, you have to get a tattoo in yoongi’s shop by yoongi, he gets to choose which one too.”

she did not.

“i’m sorry, did i hear you right?” you leaned forward with a cocked eyebrow because jisoo wouldn’t do this to you.

right?

“i’ll go easy with the needle on you, doll” yoongi chuckles from his spot.

“shut the fuck up, min yoongi” you snarl at him and fix your gaze on jisoo again as she shrugs with a delighted smile on her face.

“hey, i could just kick you out from my store, you know that right?” you ignore his words with a roll of your tongue against your cheek and run a hand through your hair, this is far from how you wanted your night to go.

“are you going to back off from a dare, y/n?” chaeyoung raises her eyebrows at you and it feels like thye’ve definitely planned this shit from the start but the mocking in her tone doesn’t allow you to say no.

“fucking hell, i’ll do it.” you give in because again, you are never one to back off from a challenge. even if you’re really scared of needles, you can do this.

“who said i’m doing it for you?” he questions with narrowed eyes and everyone in the room breaks into scattered giggles.

“i’ll give you a month y/n, convince him and get it done.” jisoo says, triumph clear in her face and tone as she calmly hands the bottle to its next victim.

again, this isn’t how you wanted your night to go.

convincing yoongi, as it turns out, was the hardest thing you have ever tried to do, and you take history in college.

not only is he insanely stubborn, but it also feels like he seriously gets off from pissing you off every single time, because the minute you start to get somewhere with convincing him, he would say something stupid, you would curse him out and you’re back to square one with your mission.

it’s been a week since the party and you’ve got no progress on him.

“okay, i can do this, it’s just stupid yoongi” you encourage yourself lightly by tapping your shoulders in butterfly position, because there’s nothing else that calms you down from the inevitability of having to talk to him.

you’re not sure why you are doing so much for a dare, but it feels like this is the chance to prove to your friends that the only feelings you have for yoongi is hatred, you cannot have them thinking you like him when even the thought of him annoys you to the core.

but you’re still here, with a bag of tempura shrimp and fried rice because apparently that’s his favorite food, and as the old saying goes, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

now, if you were reached his heart, you would probably rip it out but you’re doing what you can to get the dare over with. you ring the bell and stand back, but nothing prepares you for the sight in front of you.

a girl in just a t-shirt, most probably yoongi’s, who’s definitely not his girlfriend.

didn’t they say the girl at the party became his girlfriend afterwards?

well, at least the girl looks just as surprised as you do, and she even starts getting teary eyed and that’s when you realized what this looks like, you brought him food, pretty early in the morning, you’re dressed up well because you just like to look good, and she could be assuming that she just slept with a taken man.

“doll, is that you?” yoongi’s voice comes from behind her and you grit your teeth in annoyance at his presence.

wait, where the fuck is his shirt?

you immediately avert your gaze from his bare skin and look at the girl in front of you who’s trembling, why the fuck did he call you doll with her right beside him?

“look, i know what this looks like but i’m not his girlfriend, i honestly hate him the most out of everyone i know, so you two are still fine, and gosh just wipe those tears please, i hate making people cry” you mumble the last part as the girl sniffles and nod while wiping the tears off her cheek, yoongi coos behind her and gives her a small kiss to the top of her head which makes her grin again.

he has a girlfriend, what is he doing?

you try so hard to hide the deep scowl on your face as you watch the sickeningly sweet exchange in front of you and tap your feet impatiently as you wait for them to finish.

“come in” yoongi says simply and disappears down the hallway with the girl, and you step in sheepishly, you look around the apartment and it’s surprisingly cleaner than you thought it would be, not knowing what to do with both of them gone, you enter the kitchen and plop down on a stool.

“i’ll call you later okay” you hear yoongi whisper and you slam your head on the table in front of you because that is a very sad attempt at a whisper, his whisper is loud as fuck, and it travels all the way to you, and you’re not a liar, his voice sounds hot, it’s husky, low and if someone whispers to you like that, you know that you will melt into a puddle.

you also hear the loud smack of a kiss and it takes everything in you to keep your ass planted on the stool and not run away from here.

the girl appears near the doorway of the kitchen and gives you a bright and happy wave, you wave back at her because as much as her tears surprised you, she still seemed friendly.

“so, what’s in that bag?” yoongi walks into the kitchen, thankfully with a shirt on, and you place the bag on the counter, not saying anything and letting him look through by himself.

“tempura shrimp and fried rice, are you trying to get me to ask you out?” yoongi chuckled as he pulled out the boxes and you frown at his statement.

“don’t flatter yourself” you mumble and pick your phone up to scroll as he sits down to eat, you notice him place a plate in front of you and look up in confusion.

“go on, serve yourself, i’m not doing that for you.” he gestures to the boxes with a wave of his hand.

“this is for you, more precisely for the tattoo.”

“i know doll, just eat the food.” if you aren’t wrong, you can hear some disappointment in his voice and he doesn’t even look at you as he says that, so you just shrug and take a box to fill half your plate with the food and continue to glance at him weirdly from time to time.

this feels strangely domestic, there is nothing but silence as you two eat but for once, you don’t want to strangle him to death, he doesn’t say shit to piss you off either, and the silence is comfortable, you thought it would be awkward to be in his apartment but you don’t feel that way at all.

“i’m still not doing your tattoo” yoongi says and the door shuts in your face as you stand outside his apartment with mouth agape and slumped shoulders.

then why was he being all nice just 10 minutes ago?

you kick the door with your foot and huff out in frustration because you really cannot think of anything else that could convince him.

what are you going to do now?

what could you possibly do now?

wait a minute.

his girlfriend.

“jisoo, are you sure that the girl from the party is still his girlfriend?” you almost yell into the phone to try and make your voice heard even with the loud traffic beside you and jisoo winces from the sound.

“yes, i’m sure, she was bragging about it in class today” you can hear how annoyed jisoo sounds though the phone and bingo!

you know just how to get yoongi to do your tattoo.

you get drowned in your own assignments the following week and don’t bother to look for yoongi, and honestly, you forget about the dare until your dear friends remind you at lunch when you were just trying to peacefully eat your food.

and you don’t even see yoongi around the campus anymore, he doesn’t even show up to the one class you have in common, but his attendance is obviously taken care of because of his friends who work in student council, you’re not going to lie, you are jealous of that, you would kill to miss some classes and still have your attendance intact.

“hey seokjin, wait up!” you spot yoongi’s friend down the hallway and you don’t really care that you literally look like a homeless person with your hoodie and loose shorts, you didn’t run all the way across campus to care about how you look, you need to know where the fuck min yoongi is so you can blackmail him and just finish the dare.

“hello y/n” he faintly smiles while sipping his coffee, how does he still look good when he’s tired though? if it weren’t for the fact that he was taken, you would definitely try to get with him but your chance is over. you feel a little self-conscious with your less than appropriate outfit and his polished look, but that shouldn’t be your concern right now.

“where is yoongi? he hasn’t been coming to classes.”

“why do you want to know? don’t you hate him?” he narrows his eyes at you and you slump a little, how many people knew of the fact that you hate each other? it’s not like you can blame them, you both fight in full parties, word is bound to travel.

“i do, i just have something to ask him.”

“is it really important?” he fixes you with a more serious look and you almost feel nervous before clearing your throat and nodding fiercely.

“yes, it is.”

“he’s been hanging out at our friend’s music studio for a while now, you can find him there, i’ll text you the address” and with that, jin blends into the crowd of people around you while you stay frozen.

what does yoongi do in a music studio? you wonder silently with your head tilted as you walk to your next class.

maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.

the music studio wasn’t too far away your campus, and you could walk there even with your heavy backpack, you huff once you reach the run-down building, staring at it with curiosity filled in your eyes.

you definitely didn’t know anything about yoongi and music, sure you knew that he was a phenomenal piano player and also that he was very shy about it, you’ve only ever seen him play once and it was only because he was pretty drunk then.

you look around to try and find the room that jin told you about, brushing past several strange looking men but they are the least of your worries, you have dealt with idiots all the time at the bar and in parties, you will beat someone up if they mess with you.

“doll, what the fuck are you doing here?” you hear his irritated voice and silently heave out in relief because you immediately feel safer than you did just a minute ago.

“i should be asking you that.” you look at him with raised eyebrows and watch as he runs a hand across his face exasperatedly, only to march over to you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you with him.

if it were any other man dragging you around like this, you would break their wrist but this was yoongi, you trust yoongi, and as much as you hate him, you know yoongi would never hurt you.

he pushes the two of you into a room and closes the door behind him, you immediately snatch your wrist from his grip and rub at the spot he gripped too hard.

“okay, you didn’t have to do that.” you mumble while massaging your sore wrist.

“what are you doing here?” he doesn’t hesitate to jump right into it.

and you want to bring up his girlfriend but he looks pretty annoyed, you’re not sure if this is the time to push his buttons even more.

“i just, i was around but the real question is, what are you doing in a music studio?” you throw the question back to him and quickly scan the room you’re in right now, there’s a sound system, a keyboard, some speakers lying around and other equipment you know nothing about.

“i don’t have to tell you that” he deadpans and you retaliate a little, your posture faltering at his firm tone because while yoongi has always been rude to you, there’s a certain coldness to his voice right now that you just don’t recognize.

“you’re right, you don’t.” he really doesn’t. and now, everything you’ve done looks stupid to you, like taking food to his home and meeting some random girl, chasing seokjin on campus even when you don’t have any familiarity with him just to find about yoongi and even refusing to back down from a dare that you could just deny.

you don’t think you’re doing this for the dare anymore.

yoongi sighs when he sees your rigid posture and head hung low because damn it, he feels bad for being mean to you and he never feels bad about being mean to you, being mean to you just comes naturally to him but you just look so small right now, the air of pride and arrogance that you usually carry isn’t around you anymore and yoongi doesn’t know what to do.

“how did you find out?” he asks finally, taking a seat near the equipment and you don’t want to tattle on jin but you have no choice.

“just asked around.” you still tried to cover up jin’s name and yoongi raises his eyebrows at you like he doesn’t believe you.

“fine, seokjin told me” you squeeze out and you just hope that jin isn’t the type to hold grudges.

“you really went all the way to jin to ask about me?” jin is across campus from you, which explains why you don’t know him all that well but you did find out where jin is, just to ask him about yoongi.

but yoongi doesn’t need to know about that.

“don’t think too much about it, i had a class on that way.” you stubbornly lie through your teeth.

“no, you don’t” yoongi spins around in his chair to gather some notes in front of him.

“what?”

“you don’t have a class that way y/n, we both know that.” how the fuck does he know that?

“why didn’t you just ask me? or come to my apartment? you’ve already been there and i truly don’t understand why you went all the way to jin to ask about me.” yoongi’s words are softer, a lot less cold than before, and a lot more like the yoongi you know. which causes the return of your unfaltering confidence.

“i don’t know your number, and i didn’t want to intrude on you in your apartment again.” you answer honestly.

“but you think it’s okay to intrude on me in my studio?” the mocking in his tone doesn’t go past you and for a second, you don’t know what to say but if you’re talented in anything, it has to be the fact that you’re insanely good at changing subjects.

“speaking of the studio, what are you even doing in this studio? don’t you have a tattoo shop to take care of?” you huff and sit down on a nearby stool. you know that you’ve done a wonderful job at changing the topic because yoongi stills in his seat, not a sign of movement from him.

“or you know, just don’t tell me i guess” you add with a petty tone which has him sighing once again and turning in his seat.

“you’re really pushing the limit here, doll.” it sounds like he’s warning you but you have never been one to give a shit about his warnings.

besides, you always thought you knew yoongi, like really know him and as it turns out, you know nothing at all which has you craving to know everything.

“haven’t i always done that?” you flutter your eyelashes at him dramatically which draws a small smile on his face, it’s a rare smile, you’ve only ever seen him smile like that with his friends or when he’s flustered.

interesting.

“fine, i will tell you” you immediately jump in your place, leaning forward to listen with the utmost attention, eyes wide open and lips pursed because you can’t believe mysterious man of the campus (he gave that title to himself last year) is finally opening up to you.

“you can’t tell anyone else, you have to promise me that” the seriousness in his voice tells you he’s definitely not joking around anymore and you aren’t going to do that either, so you sit up straight and nod obediently.

“my tattoo shop, to put in one way, was a rushed decision doll, i don’t know why i thought it would be a good idea but i thought as long as it brought in money for me, i don’t have to worry about anything else but i was wrong. i was so wrong.” admitting his mistake to you, his enemy basically, takes a lot of courage and you can’t help but feel a little touched that he shared it with you. and that he’s willing to share more.

“the income was great, but it isn’t where my heart is at, you know? even the course in college right now, i don’t feel anything towards it but music, ah music makes me feel everything i’ve ever wanted to feel.” yoongi doesn’t know why he feels so comfortable telling you all this when all your previous conversations have been catty comments to each other but when he looks at you listening to him sincerely, he feels like he can tell you anything.

“you probably know that i play the piano?” you nod enthusiastically, finally it was something you knew about him.

“yeah i do, you’re good even when you’re drunk.” you beam at him and he laughs at the stupid grin on your face.

he feels like he’s the teacher here and you’re the teacher’s pet.

but he knows if he says that out loud, you will probably kick him in the leg. and yoongi hates bruises so he shoves that happy thought to the back of his head, he will laugh about it to himself later.

“i’ve been writing songs forever now doll, and i’m finally getting somewhere with it, i’m going to hand over the tattoo shop to my sister and jungkook who are more passionate about it than i will ever be.”

he looks regretful almost, like he started something he couldn’t finish but you see yoongi in a new light now, writing songs, producing music, it isn’t child’s play, you know that a lot goes into putting your emotions into words and you admire yoongi for how honest he was with you even if he didn’t have to be.

“and focus on music full-time?” you ask gently and he nods.

“that is the plan, yes.”

so, this could be why he shut the door on your face even after the tempura prawns and fried rice, he’s going to stop working at the shop soon.

“isn’t jungkook that guy who is friends with jimin?” you distinctly remember jungkook’s name from somewhere but you can’t remember where you’ve seen him.

“yeah, they work at namjoon’s bakery together.” yoongi provides you your answer easily and you snap your fingers, you saw jungkook when you went to get a muffin from namjoon, he told you he would give you a discount and you couldn’t say no to that.

“that’s where i saw him, i remember now.”

yoongi stays silent, drumming his fingers against his leg and thinking by himself, he looked insanely attractive even with that stressed look on his face, he’s even wearing torn jeans today for heavens’ sake and you feel a little hot, you pick at your collar to try and cool your warming body down.

you can’t let him know the effect he has on you.

“you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone, i won’t. your secret’s safe with me” you smile at him and he gives you a grateful look before rubbing his palms on his legs, he doesn’t know what to say anymore and he feels weird just leaving himself completely vulnerable to you but yoongi trusts you, he might hate you but he still trusts you to not be that cruel.

“so, what did you come here for?” he asks, leaning back on his chair and you freeze.

how are you going to tell him that you came all the way here just to blackmail him after he’s told you his passion-filled story?

“it’s nothing important, don’t even worry about it” you wave your hand dismissively with a nervous chuckle leaving your lips and like always, yoongi doesn’t believe you.

“it must have been pretty important if you ran to jin to ask him where i am” he points out and you hate that he’s right.

“it is not important at all.” you lamely respond and yoongi cocks his eyebrow before leaning over and grabbing your stool and pulling him towards you, so that you’re face-to-face with each other.

your heart literally stops beating when his eyes meet yours, his are filled with steely determination and you’re sure that your eyes have wimp written all over them, just what yoongi always called you and it doesn’t help that you can’t think with his breath fanning over your face in hot flashes.

“i-i told you, it’s not important” you whine lightly and yoongi has an easy grin on his face because of your stutter.

“just say it, doll.” the command in his tone is really something you can’t ignore, because not only does it make you shiver, but it also puts you on autopilot to do what he asks.

“i know that the girl that you were with, in your apartment the other day, isn’t your girlfriend” you breath out and your heart returns to its pace when yoongi lets your stool go with a frown.

“girlfriend?”

“your girlfriend is the one from the party so i’m saying that i know you’re cheating on her with that other girl.” you don’t know why you keep talking but you do, you wish you would shut up already because yoongi finally isn’t that much of a mystery anymore and blackmailing him will just put his walls up again, but you don’t shut up.

“what are you trying to do, y/n?” with the lack of his usual nickname, the sentence seems colder, just like the tone he used when you first walked in.

and that’s when you know that any and all progress you’ve made with him is gone in the dust, you think might as well just destroy it all while you’re at it.

“i will keep my mouth shut near your girlfriend if you just finish my tattoo” you have never felt more stupid in your life, because you’re doing all this while you’re fully conscious, at least when you’re drunk, you have an excuse.

“so, you would tell on me if i didn’t do that tattoo for you?” you feel even more like an idiot when he puts it that way but you remind yourself pathetically that you hate him, and you don’t care what he thinks of you, so you nod a simple yes.

“wow doll, you play a nice game, huh?” he chuckles darkly as he throws his head back and you know that while his words might be funny, his tone and expression are anything but.

you shouldn’t feel guilty about this but you do, there’s this sinking feeling in your chest that whatever you’re doing right now, is not worth it.

just when you open your mouth to take back the words you’ve said and apologize and reassure him that you see him with more respect now, that his story and secret will forever be safe with you, that you admire his passion, you don’t get the chance to when yoongi shuts you up with his.

“fine, i’ll do your stupid tattoo, now get out of my studio.” your heart sinks at his blunt words and he says them while not looking at you at all, you know that you deserve it though which is why you shamefully nod and turns towards the door, leaving him alone in his studio again.

the next few days are a blur, and you’re back at some stupid party.

you needed to forget.

but as much as you tried to push yoongi away from your thoughts, there’s this nagging feeling that claws at you, you don’t understand why you feel as guilty as you do, but it doesn’t go away, it increased each time he saw you in campus and turned his head away like you were nothing to him.

and you hate that you’re nothing to him, you were at least an enemy before but now, he disregards you so easily.

why do you want to be something to him?

you aren’t stupid enough to bring up the tattoo though, you just figured you would give him the chance to tell you or just not get it at all, you are not going to run your mouth again.

“oh, jin’s here, did you hear about his girlfriend? i heard she’s trouble” you hear someone mumble next to you, and you immediately look up to see yoongi with jin and some other friends you don’t recognize, he doesn’t see you though and you want to hide away, you don’t want to see him just yet.

you duck your head low, clutching your red solo cup in your hand and moving away from his line of sight, the only place you know that is safe from everyone in this party is the balcony upstairs so you inform your friends that you’re going to get some air and leave.

as soon as you open the door, you welcome the fresh air that greets you, the night is especially cold and windy but you love it, you just tug your leather jacket closer and lean your body on the railing as you think back on everything that’s been happening.

why did you open your mouth in the studio?

why did you go to the studio at all?

why are you so desperate to prove your friends wrong?

maybe your friends were right? that can’t be though, you don’t like yoongi that way. or at least, you don’t know if you do.

you bite your lip once you feel tears of frustration pooling in your eyes because you brought this on yourself and you don’t even understand why you are so mad about this like yoongi used to mean nothing to you or did you just think he meant nothing to you?

you really want to call off the dare because at this point, it’s gotten too far.

“it’s freezing here, come back in.” you stiffen at the sound of yoongi and don’t even turn around, you just wish he goes away because of how you’re ignoring him. you hear steps and you almost sigh in relief, thinking that he left but when the steps keep getting louder, you turn around confusedly only to see yoongi walking towards you. he reaches where you stand as you hold your breath and he just looks at you while you look away with flushed cheeks.

“this isn’t the time to be stubborn doll, just come in.” he lightly scolds you and you huff out in frustration.

“why don’t you go in?” you snap, finally looking at him and almost instantly shrink back down because you’re really in no position to give him an attitude. yoongi clenches his jaw, trying hard to mask his annoyance because he doesn’t understand why he can’t get his feet to just move and leave you alone like you clearly want him to.

“i told you i will do the damn tattoo, why are you still being a bitch?” his words are like a harsh slap to your face, does he really think you’re still going on about the tattoo?

“this isn’t about the fucking tattoo, yoongi!” you yell at him, throwing your hands in the air and running a hand though your hair, almost pulling too harshly at the roots.

“then what is it about?” he crosses his arms over his chest, taking more steps towards you and looks at you sternly, and you don’t know what to tell him.

“you won’t understand” you shake your head pathetically, now even more confused with the close proximity you two shared but yoongi doesn’t move, he stays right where he is, so close to you that you feel dizzy.

“you don’t know that” he fires back and up close, you can see his frown getting deeper. the tension in the air is high and both of you are breathing heavier than necessary and your eyes stay glued on each other, if you moved a little more, you would be fully leaning on him and even from your position, you can feel his body heat.

“i used to think you meant nothing to me and all you’ll ever be is someone who will drive my nail to the wall, but turns out, i was fucking wrong about that, i was wrong and i can’t stand being nothing to you and you definitely don’t mean nothing to me anymore, and i don’t even know why i’m telling you all of this when you obviously don’t give a shit.” you hold your gaze as you try to put your emotions into words, it’s a mess but you feel lighter, things are ruined anyway and all you want to do right now is pull him close to you and just hold him all night even as you’re yelling at him, as fucked up as that sounds.

“do you really want to know what’s going on?” your voice is reduced to a mumble as your eyes shift from his eyes and move towards his lips, his gaze travels with yours and his eyes land on your lips too, and before he could let another breath out, you pull his collar to you and tilt your head to meet his lips.

yoongi responds immediately, his hands snaking around your waist to squeeze your hips and pulling you closer till your chest met his, as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging lightly, just enough to make him groan lowly, and the sound sends a shiver down your body.

neither of you pull apart for air, just letting yourself getting lost in him, in the taste of him that you’ve been unknowingly chasing for so long, and every touch he leaves on your body feels like a trail of fire that burns bright.

kissing yoongi was probably the best thing you’ll ever experience in your life.

and you’re scared to pull away because you know that nothing will ever be the same again, you just want to stay in this moment for as long as you can, forever if you can, avoid reality for as long as you can.

but of course, not all of your wishes come true.

you eventually push lightly at his chest to gasp for air, fingers curling around his shirt, you don’t want to let go and he leans his forehead on yours, breathing heavily as well, his eyes are tender as they watch you catch your breath, his hands leave your hips and gingerly reach out to tuck your hair back into place, all while his eyes never leaves yours and everything feels so intimate and delicate, like it’s just you and him in this night, every sound, anyone else are all white noise.

“yoongi” you mutter as you slip your fingers away from his hair and he shakes his head, taking your hand in his and holding it to the side of his face.

“please don’t say anything” there is pleading in his tone, a wish that you owe him for all the times you’ve fucked up so you do as he says, you let him caress your hands as his forehead never leaves yours, but he isn’t looking at you anymore, you don’t complain though because this way, you can look at him all you want and he will never know.

but after a while of just letting the wind embrace you two, you decide that you can’t live in this feeling forever, especially when everything feels so confusing and neither of you have a clue about what is going on, the only thing you know is that you’re in each other’s arms and that’s it, that’s all you know.

and that’s not enough.

“yoongi, your girlfriend” you whisper painfully, your heart is caught in your throat when his fingers pause on your skin, slowly retracting back to himself and he leans away from you, hands still loosely gripping your fingers, you already miss his warmth enveloping you. but you can’t be selfish, it’s no longer only both of your hearts that are involved.

“we can’t do this.” you pull yourself away from him and wipe the corners of your eyes that almost leak your tears, yoongi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is his surrender to the situation, you take his silence to be his agreement with you, that this isn’t okay.

taking his silence and compliance as your answer, you leave before your heart breaks even more than it already has.

you walk around like a breathing shell around the campus, regretting nothing and everything at the same time.

you don’t regret kissing yoongi, you don’t think you ever will but you regret how it happened, you regret the situation you put the two of you in.

but he kissed you back, that’s what confuses you the most, you fully expected him to tear away from you and curse at you while wiping his lips but he didn’t, he kissed you back, like actually pulled you closer till you couldn’t feel anything but him.

you want to ask him why he did that, but you can’t. you can’t look at him without feeling complete humiliation because you might have just been another girl for yoongi, another girl for him to cheat on his girlfriend with and you feel…worthless.

and you also broke girl code, something you firmly believed in, or at least used to believe in, you want to talk to his girlfriend and tell her so that she won’t be constantly lied to but you also don’t want to get involved with yoongi again.

you push your books away with a groan and throw your pen on the desk you’re sat on; you can’t concentrate for shit and you really just want to disappear for a few days. when your phone dings, you almost throw it out the window because you told your friends that you needed space after they saw you looking dull at the party and you aren’t in the mood to party and forget even if that sounds lovely.

you grab your phone with a frown and squint at it when the bright light blinds you for a second, you curse yourself and reduce the brightness to see a message from an unknown number.

from: xxxxxxx

tomorrow, 9 in the morning, get the tattoo done or forget about it.

you just stare at the screen for a few minutes, it’s definitely him, even through the text messages, you know that it’s him, and he’s offering to do the tattoo? even after everything?

it isn’t right to go for it but you’ve got a dare to finish, right?

genius lab ended up being so far away from your apartment, that by the time you got to the front of it, you were heaving like a pregnant women, and you heavily grasp the handle of the shop, pulling it open with all the strength you have left. you stumble in to see a pretty empty shop, it is a working day so that isn’t a surprise, you wipe the sweat off your forehead as you look around for yoongi.

what are you even going to say?

‘hello, the kiss was great and i still feel weak from it but let’s forget that happened because that basically was just you cheating on your girlfriend?’

that doesn’t sound right.

“y/n, right?” you look up to see a younger, handsome man at the counter.

“jungkook?” he smiles and nods his head, extending his hand towards you, you shake it with a smile of your own and you really shouldn’t be smiling, considering your situation but jungkook has a very infectious aura, very bright and filled with joy.

you like him already.

“yoongi hyung is in the back room, he told me to tell you to go there” he gestures towards the other end of the room and you want to turn and run away from here, because as far as you can tell, the back rooms are private places meaning it’s just going to be you and yoongi.

your original plan was to look at other customers as you get yours done but how can you look at anything in a room if yoongi was going to be the only person in there?

“is that so? then i’ll get going in there, good luck here jungkook” you give him a nervous smile and he beams at you with a nod, eyes shining and you coo at how adorable he looks before you take a deep breath to calm yourself and slowly walk towards the room.

you’re only here for the tattoo and nothing else, you won’t talk with yoongi at all or even look at him, just let him do the tattoo and leave.

there you go, perfect plan.

you push against the door with your hip, peeking in to see yoongi with his back to you and you take a quick step back, clutching your hand on your racing heart, you haven’t even seen him fully but you’re not sure if you can stop yourself from lunging at him.

“are you just going to stand there, doll?” just as you’re about to tip-toe your way out of the tattoo shop and hopefully move to a remote island where you don’t have to worry about anyone, yoongi calls you out, with his back still to you.

how did he even know that you were there?

you clear your throat a little and step into the room, the walls are white and there’s a few boards filled with drawings here and there, and then there is yoongi who apparently has decided to wreck you by wearing torn jeans and a black hoodie.

the outfit isn’t special by any means but you already feel weak in the knees.

you decide to walk over to him with your knees still wobbly and your breath shakier than it was and look over his shoulder to see him working on a tattoo design, probably yours, you lean over to see it properly and gasp at the delicate baby’s breath drawing, your favorite flower.

“i didn’t draw it, my sister did” he mumbles as continues tracing it carefully.

“your sister is talented” you say honestly and he hums in agreement.

okay, so you two are going to act like yesterday didn’t happen, you can definitely go along with that.

“stop loitering doll, just sit down on the chair” he can’t focus when you’re walking around him with big, curious eyes and a small smile dancing on your lips, and he feels bad when you sigh in disappointment and silently walk to the big chair in the middle of the room.

but he can’t do anything about it, he expected you to be your usual self and fire back at him but you didn’t and he doesn’t have a good feeling about that.

he heads over to the chair with the tattoo design ready in his hands, he instructs you to lay down and makes sure you’re fully comfortable and his side keeps pressing against your body as he leans over to prepare things for the tattoo and it takes everything in you to not kiss him again. so, you keep yourself busy, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“you’re going to have to look at me if we’re doing this, y/n” he says and you lift your gaze to see him looking at you with a face you can’t read or decipher but you hold his stare as he circles around you to flicker some lights on you.

“where do you want the tattoo?” he asks, pushing his sleeves up, to reveal scatters of small tattoos all over his arms and you gulp at the visible veins on his hands.

“i get to choose?” you raise your eyebrows and he shrugs.

“well, it’s your body doll, i think it was cruel enough to make you do this, so yes, you do.”

you do know where you want to get it, you always thought that if ever, one day, you decide to be brave and get a tattoo, there’s one spot you’ve wanted it to be but you’re not sure if yoongi will be okay with it.

do you really want to push your luck here?

“are you sure you’re comfortable with anywhere?” you decided to ask him and he frowns at you like there’s an obvious answer.

“yes, that’s my job.”

“right” you purse your lips and nod as he looks at you expectantly.

“i want it on the side on my waist” you whisper and yoongi drops his head with a chuckle.

“doll, do you want to kill me?” and your face heats up at his tone and at the way he looks up with a smirk, nodding while putting on his gloves.

“then you will have it on the side of your waist, you have to push your shirt up by a lot, like right under your bra and hold it there, understood?” you do a double take at his straightforward tone, like talking about your bra is totally normal but you just bob your head hastily and agree to whatever he’s saying, trying to not make a big deal out of it but you’re sure that your red face is a dead giveaway.

“okay, lay on your side” he places his hand on your shoulder and gently pushes you back on the reclined seat, and you huff deeply because it’s only now dawning on you that you’re getting a tattoo done by yoongi, it’s going to be on your waist and you feel stupid for not just going for your arm. you stiffen under him and watch with wide eyes as he places the needles on the table, those look painful and you’re genuinely terrified now.

“scared of needles?” you nod numbly to his question, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to get rid of the image of those needles.

“it’s whatever, it’s fine” you breath out but your body definitely gives you away, your hands are shaking and you’re sure that you feel dizzy.

“doll, take it easy, it’s going to be over in no time and just remember to breath properly during it” when he gets no response from you, and your eyes are still closed, he realizes how scared you are.

“you want me to distract you?”

“please.” you mumble and he wordlessly lifts your shirt for you because you don’t look like you’re going to move but he keeps his eyes on your face while he does that, carefully tucking your shirt under your arm to keep it from moving away and if you weren’t as scared as were right now, you would have noticed the goosebumps that rise everywhere his touch reaches.

he gently holds your shirt in place and places the drawing on your skin, putting it flat and rubbing it slowly so that it would transfer well, and you feel weirdly hot, he’s just doing his job but you really want to just grab him and take him right there.

“okay, i will draw over this and then we will get to the actual tattoo” you actually shiver a little when you feel one of his hands tracing the design and the other slightly pulling on your skin so that it stays taut and you don’t know why the fuck you agreed to this because you’re clearly suffering here.

“what do you think of weird food combinations?” he suddenly asks once he’s done with the tracing.

“some are alright, i guess” you answer and then you hear the sound of the drilling needle causing you to let out a low whine and bury your face into the seat you’re lying on.

you should have stayed home, even the sound is freaking you out.

“which ones, according to you, are acceptable?”

“i don’t think mint chocolate is as bad as people make it out to be.” he scoffs at your response, making you frown.

“what is your problem?” you snap at him and yoongi smiles because you’re finally talking to him like you always do, he would recognize that tone of yours anywhere.

“mint chocolate is horrible, doll, i thought you had taste.” he clicks his tongue at you and you immediately go on a rant about how mint chocolate is too hated of a flavor and that at the end of the day, it’s just food and everyone has different tastes.

somewhere in the middle of your rant, yoongi looks at you fondly, you’re always so passionate about everything, even the simplest things, you make it sound and feel like how music affects him, and just as you’re almost done with your rant, he presses the needle on your skin making you yelp and you would’ve jumped and ended up scarring your skin if it weren’t for his hands holding you down.

this hurts this hurts this hurts.

it’s all you can think of as he slowly moves the needle around, looking at you every once in a while to check if you’re okay.

“i never got to tell you this but i think you following your passion with music is really cool and i really respect you for that, i hope you know that i will always support you on it.” you breath out quickly and if you weren’t here, yoongi would’ve cried because he appreciates your words so much, he pats your head in thanks, mumbling how grateful he is and it’s delicate, just like your first kiss.

it doesn’t last long though.

“you know, a food combination i like is french fries and vanilla ice cream.” your mouth drops open at his words, that sounds nasty as hell.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he laughs at your scrunched up face.

“what the fuck do you mean by french fries and vanilla ice cream?” you practically growled at him while looking at him with pointed eyes, can this tattoo be done anytime soon?

“don’t say shit when you haven’t tried it.” he smirks at your annoyed expression and you just glare at him.

“i don’t have to try that monstrosity to know that it tastes like trash.” you snap at him with raised eyebrows and just when he is about to reiterate with another comment, you unconsciously move, you hear him tut and hold you back down with a strong grip.

“sit still doll, or i might just drive this needle into your nerves and leave you paralyzed for life.” you know his warning doesn’t mean shit but you stay silent and stop moving anyways.

wait, you haven’t felt pain for the past five minutes, and you realize it’s because yoongi distracted you, he could’ve just done his job and leave you to suffer alone but he didn’t, and your heart swells a little.

that was sweet of him.

“how did you know that i like baby’s breath?” yoongi pauses with the needle but then continues like nothing happened at all.

“asked around” he casually replies and you roll your eyes, of course he would say that.

“yoongi, we need to talk about what happened in the party” you nervously but finally address the elephant in the room, biting your lip once the pain increases again.

“when i have a needle in my hand, really?” he looks up with an exasperated expression and you nod.

“with a needle in your hand, yes.”

“doll, all i’ve got to say is, i don’t know why you think i have a girlfriend” he laughs a little as he continues moving the needle against your skin.

wait what?

“what?”

“wait a second, your tattoo is almost over” you let him finish up while you are lost in your own thoughts, you are once again confused about everything and you don’t even feel the pain anymore, he places a patch over the tattoo after you get a look of it and you have to admit, he might not have passion in this but he’s surely talented.

he helps you sit up slowly, holding both of your hands firmly and pulling you forward till your legs almost wrapped themselves against his waist, he doesn’t let go of your hands though.

“i don’t have a girlfriend, and the only reason i let you go that night was because you didn’t look like yourself, i didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were that emotionally vulnerable, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you that dull.” he speaks sincerely and you know that he’s honest but you’ve still got so many questions.

“so, what about the girl from the previous party? the one where we played spin the bottle?”

“she wasn’t my girlfriend, i didn’t even sleep with her that night.” he shook his head as he said it and you narrow your eyes at him.

“well, she doesn’t know that because she’s bragging to everyone that you’re her boyfriend” you poke a finger at his chest accusingly and he chuckles.

“let her, i know who’s i want to be and it’s not her” your cheeks flush when he looks at you pointedly as he says that, you clear your throat and sit up straighter, taking this new information gracefully and doing a little happy dance in your heart, you wrap your arms around his neck and plays with the ends of his hair as he can’t help but grin at you.

“what about at the studio? you got so mad” you mumble sadly because you still remember how heartbroken you were that day and yoongi sighs, patting your cheek and rubbing his thumbs in circles on them.

“well, girlfriend or not, i didn’t like that you blackmailed me, doll. i had just opened up to you and you hit me with that so yeah, i was mad but i’m not anymore, okay? i know how stupid you can be sometimes” he adds the last part teasingly and you immediately gasp, pulling away from him and hitting his chest though a huge smile blooms on your face. yoongi laughs happily as you continue to try to hit him as he dodges.

eventually he gets tired of moving away from you, so he grabs your hands in his and pulls you closer till your lips meet his, your wrists stay captured in his hands as you kiss him back with every bit of your nerves ignited with a fresh need, you pull away from him with a small giggle while he wears a dopey grin.

“i hate you so much” you mumble against his lips with a huge grin, but like any other time, you don’t have a scowl on your face nor do you mean those words at all, he hums in agreement, pecking you one more time and cupping your face in his hands.

“trust me doll, i hate you so much more” he coos at you and you laugh at him because you know he doesn’t mean it either, you know that the word hate is just a replacement for love when it comes to the two of you, the way his eyes sparkle at you with a newfound joy tells you enough, and your laugh only gleefully extends once he starts peppering kisses all over your face as you try to swat him away.

so yes, you hate yoongi a lot, you hate min yoongi the most.

to: jisoo

the dare’s done, you can get off my ass about it! and guess who has a boyfriend now? 😉

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sammygvfslut · 3 years ago

Text

i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now.

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other.

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta / @flowervanfleet / @dharma-divine

#sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka

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