#i have lost all of my rhythm gaming skills since the last one

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[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel

Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.

This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.

The translation is under the cut, thank you!

It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.

Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?

This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).

Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.

It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.

Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.

Let me reminisce a little bit here.

This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.

Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.

But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.

A proper, professional story.

Huh?

My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.

What is a proper story?

The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.

Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.

Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.

A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.

In other words, a proper emotion.

I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.

There was nothing but emptiness there.

A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.

And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.

It is supposed to be that kind of job.

Yet I became unable to move forward.

A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?

How do I find that emotion?

I mean, how did I even write novels until now?

I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.

I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.

What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?

I felt a chill plunging into my back.

Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.

I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.

It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.

I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.

At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”

The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.

At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.

Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.

That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.

I came to realize.

It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.

Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.

Well then.

It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.

Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.

He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.

He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?

During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.

Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.

And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.

This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.

This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.

Well then, see you in the next story.

Asagiri Kafka.

[panda-noosh]

the game {draco x reader}

  masterlist

---

 you’ve been tormenting the malfoy family for what feels like forever.

   it’s become a kind of game at this point, a game everyone is involved in. the malfoys pretend they don’t expect your presence, and you pretend you are tormenting them because you don’t like them. it’s back and forth, back and forth, and you’ve been doing it too long to back out now.

   it starts the same way every time - the gate is open, and they pretend it’s because they forgot to close it. nobody mentions the fact that lucius malfoy hasn’t forgotten a single thing in his entire life. nobody mentions draco’s blonde head peaking out from behind the living room curtains, waiting for the arrival of a person he claims to despise. 

   you stroll in with the ease of someone who owns the place, smiling and waving at the white peacocks that have become so familiar with your presence by now that they don’t even make a noise upon seeing you. they lift their graceful heads, and then they bow them again - it’s as simple as that.

    you knock on the door, grinning even wider when you hear narcissa’s faux exclamation of, “who could that possibly be?” you know for a fact that draco has warned her of your presence already, that all three of them have been expecting your arrival since they woke up this morning. 

   and then the door opens, and narcissa stands there in all her glory. such a tall, graceful woman, and you tell her that on a daily basis, making her blush because you  are her favourite little Mudblood, and she lets you get away with things like that.

    you lean against the door frame, spinning your wand between your ringed fingers. narcissa glares at you without speaking, her jaw working as she inspects you.

    “evening,” you drawl. “how are you today, my dear?”

   her nostrils flare. “how many times have we told you to stay away from our home?”

    “oh, plenty of times. i’ve quite lost count.” you straighten, craning your neck to see over her tall frame, into the hallway beyond. standing in the foyer, just as you predicted, just as he always does, is draco. you give him a wave before turning back to face his mother. “is he alright? i haven’t seen him much at school recently.”

    “my sons wellbeing is none of your business.”

   draco appears at his mothers elbow. “you can tell professor snape i’ve been feeling ill.”

   you smile - draco giving you orders is moreso his way of answering your questions without looking like he gives a shit. you appreciate it, this code you two speak in, because in all truth, you do worry about the malfoy boy quite a bit.

   you met him in school, your very first year at hogwarts. you were crushed beneath adrenaline, having found out about your powers only a few weeks before being shipped off to this strange and wonderful new school. you had a wand, and a robe, and there was a giant man ushering you into a tiny boat, ready to take you to the future. 

   and then draco appeared, and he knew who you were. he must have looked through the first year list, must have looked you up and realised you were a muggle-born. he did his research, and that was the first point of respect he earned off you.

    “let them in, mother,” draco says now. “the elves made too much food anyway; might as well put them to use whilst they’re here.”

    you give a mock bow. “much appreciated, malfoy.”

   he snarls, before mother and son turn on their heels and lead you into the home you have become so familiar with these past few years. you’ve traced these walls with your fingers a thousand times before, and you do the same now. upstairs, you hear the elves marching around, putting stuff back where they belong, chuntering amongst themselves; silently, you wonder where lucius is. 

    draco and narcissa lead you to the kitchen, where stacks upon stacks of food are set up along the grand dining table. draco hands you a glass of water before gesturing to the plates and saying, “dig in. and be grateful we haven’t got the ministry involved.”

    “the ministry?” you raise a brow, taking a long, loud sip of your water before continuing. “draco, what would the ministry possibly do? you’ve been letting me into your home for years - it’s starting to get a little old hearing you say you don’t want me here.”

    draco blinks, startled. 

   narcissa steps in, grabbing the water from your hand and slamming it upon the table. “we don’t want you here. the last thing we need is some filthy mudblood knocking on our door at all hours of the morning.”

    the word doesn’t even sting any more - it’s a wound that has been closed long enough now to no longer hurt. so instead, you smile and say, “very true, narcissa. i’ll have my water back now, if you please.”

    narcissa growls, turns and walks out of the kitchen. she always does this. it’s become part of the routine.  

   you grab the water yourself and take another sip. draco continues staring at you, a habit he adopted only recently. you remember the first time he did it, the first time it was more than a glance, more than an accidental brush of eye contact between you; he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, those slim fingers tapping a rhythm against the expensive granite. you and lucius were chatting, lucius asking - yet again - why you’re here, why you can never leave them alone, why you aren’t at school. you were going to answer, but draco’s gaze was burning a hole into the side of your face, and you truly felt as if you had no choice but to pack it in early and go home, just to recuperate. 

    you’ve gotten better with it. you don’t have any plans of storming out any time soon, though his gaze still makes your face heat up and your stomach squirm.

    “so, you’ve been ill, have you?” you begin. “i won’t lie, draco, you look pretty spritely to me.”

    “i wouldn’t expect you to understand,” draco shoots back. “you should just mind your business.”

    “i never asked you what was wrong. i was just saying - seems like you’re looking for a muggle excuse to get out of going to school.”

   draco glares, though the expression has less effect now that he’s taken to never taking his eyes off you, no matter what his emotions towards you are in the moment. “i’ve told you not to call me that.”

   “didn’t call you anything.”

   “you called me a muggle.”

   you narrow your eyes in faux confusion. “i said your excuse was muggle. don’t blow it out of proportion, mate.”

   he throws his hands up, turning away for what feels like the first time since he laid eyes on you. “why are you here this time, y/n? what could you possibly want from us now?”

    “i’ve never wanted anything from you.” you inspect the endless plates on the table. “although i will pinch a scotch egg, if you don’t mind.”

    draco watches as you reach across the table, picking at the assortment of foods. you don’t break the eye contact, because that’s what he wants you to do. he wants you to show some sign of intimidation, some sign that he has wriggled beneath your nerves in the same way he manages with everyone else. you’re determined to show him you’re not afraid of the malfoys, have never been afraid of the malfoys, and that’s exactly why you’re here. you wanted something, and you were willing to go to the highest rank to get it.

    “you know, if my father finds out about what you get up to, you’ll be sent to azkaban with a life sentence.”

    you freeze, scotch egg halfway to your mouth. “so you’re bringing that up now, are you?”

    “i’m just warning you.” draco shrugs, the sleeves of his black blazer stretching against the motion. “one day you’re going to walk in here, and he’s going to know. he’s going to see it in your eyes that you’re guilty.”

   “he’s going to figure me out.” you scoff. “you really think the sun shines out of your father’s arse, don’t you? he’s not as smart as he likes everyone to think, draco. i’ve been running circles around that man for years now, and he’s none the wiser.”

    “and what if i tell him?”

   the room falls silent. your heartbeat rings in your ears. you hate talking about this with draco, because you never know whether or not to take his threats seriously. 

    he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re lucky i haven’t blabbed yet.”

   “are you threatening me, malfoy?” you lean forward, lowering your voice to a purr. “why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve taken two weeks out of school, hm? then we’ll both have stories to tattle to the ministry.”

    draco pales. he glares at you for a moment longer before the kitchen door opens, and narcissa malfoy strolls inside once again. you straighten up, schooling your expression into one of immediate calm, like not a single thing is wrong. you pop the remaining scotch egg in your mouth and say, “i should get out of your hair now.”

    narcissa simply scowls.

    you give her a grin, nod at draco once before walking out the door, trying to ignore that blue-eyed gaze still burning into the back of your head.

   ----

    it gets easier over time.

    all of it does, really. the guilt becomes non-existent, and the act itself becomes second nature after a few good attempts. you’ve nearly been caught a handful of times, and you know if your actions were to come to light, you would be expelled from hogwarts in a heartbeat; not even dumbledore could show you mercy, no matter how much he likes you.

    it’s easiest when the streets are full. muggles are so careless, clumped together with wallets jingling in their pockets, unprotected. they don’t even think about what might go wrong, don’t even think a wizard may be lurking amongst them, ready to snatch their belongings right from their person.

    you don’t need it, of course. muggle money means nothing where you come from, but there’s some wizards and witches who would pay hundreds of galleons in trade for the things collected off muggles. it’s a black market kind of situation.

   tonight, you are dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, wand stowed in your back pocket. you don’t need it; you’ve mastered the magic-free manoeuvres of sneaking things from people, and you use such skills to your advantage tonight. a man by the name of richard carpol has put in a request for a muggle passport - an irish one, preferably, but he’ll take anything you can get your hands on.

    you search for what feels like hours before zoning in on the dark red booklet peaking out of a teenagers jacket pocket. their source of ID, you assume, and you feel no guilt whatsoever when you stroll past them and pluck the book free. you stuff it in your hoodie pocket before picking up your pace, ducking into a dark alleyway.

    you flip it open - it’s a british passport, but richard will still pay. he’s not a picky customer, which makes your night ten times easier.

   you make your way back to hogwarts, waving at people in hogsmeade before you disappear for the night. you sneak into the slytherin dormitory with no problems, stuffing the passport beneath your mattress. you wriggle beneath the sheets, ignoring pansy’s insistant questions about where you have been, if you’ve seen draco, how you managed to sneak past filch - she asks this every night, and you have never replied. you just fall asleep, another day successful.

  ----   

   “he’s back.”

   like he’s some kind of god. you nearly roll your eyes, the whispers repeated over and over again throughout morning breakfast. all around you, the slytherin table is alive with anticipation, waiting for draco malfoy to stroll in through the double doors, head held high in that way it always is.

   you knew draco was returning before anyone else did, as he told you the night before in a fit of faux rage at the sight of you in his bedroom, yet again. you had offered to leave, leaned casually against his mahogany wardrobe, and it could almost be considered hasty the speed at which he rushed for his door to close it, uttering a quiet, “no, you’re here now, so you might as well stay.”

    but now he’s back in school, and you’re sick of him. you haven’t even seen his face once, but the whispers and the praise from your house mates is enough to set your teeth on edge. it reminds you that there is indeed a draco living outside of the malfoy manor, a draco you cannot tease and torment as easily.

    “i saw him in the common room this morning putting his robes on. i think his parents got him new ones,” a fellow slytherin whispers. “and his hair has been cut a little shorter - he looks so grown up!”

   you snicker into your porridge, smothering the noise to no avail. the slytherin girl singing draco’s praises shoots you a glare before noticing who you are; her glare folds in on itself, and she quickly retaliates by pretending she didn’t hear your snicker in the first place.

    breakfast ticks by, and it’s only near the end does draco finally decide to grace the dining hall with his presence. the double doors open, and the chatter amongst the slytherins falls short almost immediately. you’re ashamed to admit that even you look up at the speed of light, catching one of the first glimpses of draco malfoy as he returns from what many people assumed was the dead.

    his fangirl certainly wasn’t lying, you notice; his hair has been cut shorter, and he does look plenty grown up. he walks with a fresh confidence that makes you want to roll your eyes - it’s not like he needed a further confidence boost. his robes are clean, brushing the floor. his eyes are trained on the head table, though they linger there for only moments before snapping to where you are seated.

   you raise a curious brow. he blushes, looks away, and takes his seat next to crabbe and goyle, both of whom clap him on the back like he’s just returned from war.

    you ignore him the rest of breakfast, which is a rare action for you. you used to revel in tormenting him, coming face to face with him at every corner just to give another snide remark; it was a game back then, back when the two of you were younger and felt as if you could get away with it. 

    breakfast ends shortly thereafter, and you hurry to gather your things. swinging your bag over one shoulder, you duck your head down and escape into the crowded corridors, losing yourself amongst the sea of black clad students. 

   but you’re a fool to ever think you - of all people - could escape draco’s magnificent return to school. his cold fingers wrap around your wrist before you have a chance to turn the corridor to your next class, stopping you in your tracks. part of you wants to spin around and punch him, just floor him in front of everyone, show him that you’re not just some silly person showing up on his front doorstep every other night.

    instead, you slowly turn and give him a smile, one of your big ones to let him know you don’t mean it, that you’re being hostile.

    his face is set in stone, that frown so perfect and soft looking it makes you want to sob. 

    “where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, keeping his voice low because god forbid anyone catch him speaking to you.

    “class,” you reply. “so kindly let go of me, malfoy.”

   “not until you tell me where richard got another muggle passport to sell.”

    you freeze, though you knew this would be coming eventually. richard is one of your best customers, but he’s not very bright; he’s never understood the concept of subtlety when it comes to the trading of muggle artefacts. 

    “he has a new one, does he?” you say. “good for him. his collection must be getting awfully big by now.”

   draco scowls. “my father is starting to get very suspicious, y/n, and i don’t know how much longer i’ll be willing to cover for you.”

    you pry your hand out of his grip, nearly stumbling from the momentum. “is that a threat?”

    “it’s a warning,” he says. “i might not like you, but i don’t need you going down for something like this. people know we’re familiar with each other, and i don’t want you tarnishing my family name.”

    you scoff. “your family name has been tarnished since you-know-who was in power.”

    “shut up. don’t talk on things you don’t understand.”

    “all i need to do is pick up a history book.”

   draco scowls, those blues eyes ablaze. you’ve seen this look on him when he’s speaking to those gryffindors he hates so much, when a teacher takes someone else’s side over his own. you’ve seen this look on him plenty of times, but never aimed at you; for some reason, his expression is always so soft around the edges when trained on you.

    “i’m trying to do you a favour,” draco mumbles. “because i’m serious when i say my father will snap you in half if he finds out you’re the one providing these artefacts to the dark market.”

    “i’m not afraid of lucius,” you reply. “and i think you’re kind of forgetting the fact that your father actually likes me. at least a little bit.”

    draco’s eyebrows fly up in amusement. “what’s given you that idea?”

   “the fact that i’m still allowed in your house after all these years.” you grin, basking in the way draco’s own smile fades at the realisation you have indeed recognised this behaviour within his family. “yes, malfoy. you all try so hard to convince me i’m the scum of the earth, but the truth is, you appreciate my company. the truth is, you make me tea every time i visit. the truth is, you’re all a little fond of me, whether you want to admit it or not.”

    his face pales even more, a feat you didn’t think possible until seeing it with your own two eyes. it’s a delicious win, a point for you in a competition you didn’t even realise you had entered.

    “you’re delusional,” he mumbles. “you say you picked up a history book, then you must know how my family feel about your kind.”

   “my kind?” you raise a brow, feigning ignorance just to annoy him. he hates outstretched conversations, especially with you. “are you talking about half-bloods, or pickpockets? oh! or people who can run circles around you without fear?”

    you don’t give him a chance to reply, because quite frankly, you’re done with this conversation. you’re done with him for today. you prefer it when you’re in control of your daily draco interactions. 

    you turn on your heel and leave, rushing for your next class even as he calls your name. you can’t believe the nerve of him, approaching you like that, telling you to quit the job that’s gotten you off the streets, that’s helped you fund an education for yourself. these robes you’re wearing, the books you read in class, the wand that is an extension of your arm by now - all of it was funded by you, from your own pocket. just because the business is ruthless, not some posh, clean dealing that malfoy is used to, doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

   you want to shove that explanation down his throat, just so he’ll finally look past his own privileged little bubble. you hate admitting it, but the truth is, draco wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so blinded by his upbringing. he knows how to be nice - you’ve seen it before, experienced it before, though you never talk about those experiences with anyone. there have been a few times where draco has seen you walking past his house, soaked to the bone from the rain, and he’s let you in, warmed you up by the fire, placed a hot chocolate in your hand. he’ll insult you and call you stupid and claim he wants you out of his house as soon as possible, but he was still the man who made the move to get you out of the rain.

    your feelings for draco are a jenga tower. built up to full form, but slowly, pieces get chipped away until the entire thing is falling, and you have to rebuild it and try again. 

    you don’t know why you keep rebuilding it after so many disasters, but as he calls your name at your retreating back, you can feel yourself already putting those blocks back together.

   ----

     charms class really is a pain.

   flitwick is nice enough. he’s patient, which is good, and very much needed when it comes to your skills in the classroom. you’re an intelligent person, always studying because you want to be the best. you love seeing the look on draco’s face when he looks over and sees you’ve got a higher grade than him. it gives you such a thrill.

   but charms is your downfall, because nothing makes any sense. flitwick explains the spell, and the hand movements, and he leaves you to your own devices, and you always somehow end up messing everything up.

   today, all you’re doing is tossing a pillow to the other side of the room. it’s a simple spell, a simple gesture, and yet you still manage to smash a window in the process. flitwick merely sighs, explains the charm again, and gets you to repeat the process until you’ve got it right.

   it takes a while. you don’t like it when things take a while.

    by the half hour mark, sweat is running down your face, and your teeth have been gritted for so long it’s starting to hurt. you throw your wand down on the table, rake your hands through your hair and say, “i’m taking a break.”

   “please do,” flitwick grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where a vase smashed into his skull, thanks to your handiwork.

   you slump down on one of the pillows you have failed to charm and run a hand along your brow. it’s actually disgusting how much energy gets taken out of you from doing such a simple thing. it’s also very confusing, considering you’re able to master the most difficult spells in defence against the dark arts without so much as a second thought. why tossing a pillow to the other side of the room is getting to you is both a joke and a mystery.

    as you pull yourself together, savouring your moment of rest, someone slumps down next to you. you glance over, an eyebrow raised at bailey o’boyle, a boy you’ve done business with a few times in the past. he was only dabbling in the black market at the time, too young to understand what it was actually all about, but you weren’t going to be the one to ward him off, not when he had a good few galleons with your name on it.

    he looks at you now with a smile, big and dopey, just as it always is.

   “can i help you?” you ask. 

    “yes.”

   you wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. he just keeps staring at you.

    you grit your teeth. “with what?”

    “i need an electric scooter.”

    you raise a brow. already the word ‘electric’ has got your attention, because that’s not something the wizard world is very familiar with. what bailey is doing right now is forming a business deal. you’re not usually a fan of bargaining in the middle of class, but since you have nothing better to do. . .

   you turn, ducking your head and lowering your voice. “what the fuck do you need an electric scooter for?”

    “to sell,” he replies. “i’ve got a man who collects them. he’s willing to pay big money, y/n. big, big money.”

    you like the sound of that.

   “i’m a pickpocket, you know,” you say. “it’s not going to be easy pickpocketing an entire scooter from a muggle.”

    bailey shrugs. “i said i’d see what you could do. but if you’re not up to it. . .”

   your eye twitches; you hate that phrase. realistically, you know this is far beyond your expertise. you steal wallets, and passports, and house keys, tiny things you can sneak away without detection. trying to get something like an electric scooter from a muggle without being caught is close enough to impossible that even the lure of galleons isn’t enough to convince you to do it.

   still, of course you’re going to think about it. there are many different side streets in muggle london that you could go down, and if you do it at night, the shadows could be used to your advantage. nobody would even bat an eye if you wore-

    draco grabs your wrist and pulls you from the floor.

   you yelp, stumbling into his chest. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you’re more surprised at his strength than you are at his actions.

    bailey’s eyes widen. he stutters, trying to feign innocence, but neither you nor draco are interested in him any more. you whirl on malfoy, shoving him away.

   “what the hell?”

    “what the hell, is right.” he grabs your arm. “come with me.”

   you struggle against his grip, but truth to be told, you’re not really putting up much of a fight. you’re still in shock at how easily he was able to lift you, at the feel of his fingers around your upper arm. 

    he drags you from the classroom. flitwick being flitwick doesn’t even bat an eye; he’s probably relieved that’s two more students he doesn’t need to worry about.

    in the hallway, draco finally lets go of you. you jerk away so fast your back hits against the wall. draco raises a brow, but he still looks furious. his nostrils are flared, his face is pale, and god, he keeps clenching his fists like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.

    god help you, you kind of want him to. just to know what it feels like.

    “again,” you say. “what the hell?”

   “i knew you were stupid, y/n, but that’s bad even for you.”

    “excuse me?”

   “you do realise blaise was listening to every word you and bailey were saying in there?” he shakes his head, jaw clenched. “i was trying to talk over you, but your loud mouth is quite difficult to ignore.”

    you blink. firstly, wow. bargaining in class really isn’t a good idea, and you really should have known better.

   but also, wow, draco actually tried helping you out.

   you swallow and fold your arms over your chest. “i had it under control. blaise isn’t gonna do shit.”

    draco laughs. “blaise’s dad is in the ministry, idiot.”

   “stop calling me that. i’m smarter than you!”

    “do you understand what i’m telling you, y/n? if blaise says a word about what he heard to his dad, that’s you done. there’s no getting out of that.”

    a chill runs down your spine. draco glimpses the movement, and you swear his features soften slightly.

    “i just can’t believe you were so careless.”

   “why do you even care?” your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. you kind of hope draco doesn’t hear it, but his eyebrows shoot up, and his cheeks gain a tiny red tint that lets you know he doesn’t really know the answer to that question. 

   you swallow, looking up to meet his eyes. “why do you care, draco?”

   “because.” his throat bobs. there is a moment of hesitation where you think he’s going to tell the truth. maybe he’s going to shock the world and just tell the god damn truth, but then he clears his throat, pulls his shoulders back and says, “i’ve already told you, y/n; if you go down, you’ll tarnish my family name. i can’t have that.”

    your insides wilt like his words are acid being poured down your throat. you laugh a little too loudly, a bark more than anything close to amusement. it’s so vicious, so filled with hatred that draco actually flinches away. in that moment, you want to give him a real reason to flinch, a real reason to be afraid.

    but you don’t, because he’s the boy who pulled you out of the rain.

   instead, you shake your head and say, “tell flitwick i’m ill. and don’t bother talking to me ever again. let me handle my own business, thanks.” and without another word, you rush down the hallway to the dorm rooms, refusing to look back at him. this time, he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t chase after you in that hopelessly stupid way you want him to. of course he wouldn’t. 

    you throw your robes off the minute you burst through the doors of your dorm. it’s empty besides a fellow slytherin’s cat laying on the bed. the black and white feline lifts its head at the sound of you, and you ignore it’s confused little mews as you scramble into your own bed, pull the privacy curtain over and bury your head in your pillow.

   you hate him. you really, really hate him, and that’s not even an exaggeration. he’s the worst person you’ve ever met. he’s this tormented little shit who thinks he has every right to throw his anger at everyone else, just because he isn’t tough enough to stand up to mummy and daddy. he’s so desperate to stay in line with everything his parents say, and it’s ridiculous. it’s embarrassing. it’s a cowards move.

    there are so many things you wished you said to him before storming off, but there’s always that moment of hesitation when it comes to anything you want to say to draco. you either have to check it’s not too nice, and even when it’s mean, you have to check it’s not going to actually upset him, because you don’t want to do that either. you don’t know why. you should spit in his face for the shit he puts you through, the confusion he makes you feel. and he doesn’t even care. he just carries on being a little prick, like nothing is wrong in the world.

   but surprise, surprise, draco. not everyone can live a lavish life, worry free. 

   --- 

    you manage to ignore draco for the rest of the day. it’s easily done, considering draco doesn’t like to make a big deal out of the fact that you two actually have history; he likes to pretend he associates only with people of the purest blood, the most talented wizards, ones that come from the old families.

    but he can’t keep his eyes off you.

    he knows he’s hit a nerve. the way his eyes follow every movement you make, the way his jaw ticks when you don’t even give him the time of day - he’s not a stupid boy, as much as you like to tell him he is. he can see when he’s upset you. 

    classes drag in the rest of the day, and it’s a massive relief when you’re finally released from the confines of lessons, free to do whatever you want. after stealing a bit of food from the dining hall, you head up to the slytherin dormitory; you like it best when it’s empty, when you can just sit with your own thoughts for a while. you need it today, because today you actually let yourself be a normal teenager, and you hate it. you hate the feeling of hormones and overreactions, but sometimes it’s hard to help it. sometimes you need to let yourself feel emotional.

    alone in the dorms, you reach under your bed and pull out your handy box of trinkets. most of the contents are just things you’ve stolen that never found a home - a penny from a london sidewalk, an old napkin with a mystery person’s phone number scribbled on it, a black and white photo of a couple standing in front of the ocean. however, tucked away amongst those simple, boring things is a green emerald - one you stole from the malfoy manor a few years ago.

    you got it from draco’s room, because you weren’t meant to be in there, and you wanted to let him know that you had, in fact, been in there. the emerald was stitched into the collar of one of his shirts, all expensive looking and wasted. you nearly scoffed at the sight of it - when would draco ever get to wear something so glamorous anyway? plus, the emerald looked far too heavy to be confined to a shirts collar; it would be very uncomfortable, you assumed.

   that’s why you grabbed a knife and cut the stitching to shreds, plucking the emerald from it to claim as your own. you tossed the shredded shirt back into draco’s wardrobe, tucked the emerald into your pocket and then walked out, content with the knowledge that draco would be yelling at you in due time once he noticed his missing jewel.

   but the yelling never came.

   draco knew you had stolen it. again, he isn’t stupid. his shirt was shredded, and the jewel was missing, and it was obvious who had done it - the known pickpocket who was strolling through his house every other night. 

   he just never said anything, like he wanted you to keep it, like he didn’t mind it was in your hands now.

   you stare at it, legs crossed beneath you. you’ve always prided yourself on how little you care for expensive things - you don’t complain that you haven’t got much, that you grew up poor, never able to afford the grand things draco has. but you still handle this emerald with so much care, flipping it round in your fingers, looking at every curve and delicate groove in it’s cut. 

    the dormitory door opens. you trust it’s just someone who’s eaten too much and wants an early night, so you don’t panic or falter. you listen to their footsteps patter across the room, the thump of their robes hitting the floor, followed closely by their shoes. you listen to their privacy curtain screeching open, their sigh of annoyance at something you can’t see-

   and then draco pops his head round your privacy curtain.

   you yelp, fumbling with the emerald. it slips from your fingers, however, and crashes to the floor at draco’s bare feet. he stares at it as you curse, an eyebrow raising, and you don’t even try and hide it. you just let him stare, arms folded over your chest, annoyance brewing in your stomach just at the sight of him. 

    finally, he slowly looks up. “mine, i take it?”

   “good guess, rich boy. can i have it back?”

   he picks it up and tosses it into your lap. you’re pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, but still keep that frown on your face.

   “what do you want?” you ask, violently stuffing all your belongings back into the cardboard box. 

    “you weren’t at dinner,” draco replies. “i wanted to make sure you weren’t causing any more trouble.”

    you scoff. “oh, trouble, yes. tarnishing the malfoy name. the end goal for us all.”

    draco stares at you, lips pursed. his gaze is always so warm, a physical thing that makes your skin crawl. “that comment bothered you, did it?”

    “nothing you say bothers me, draco. it just baffles me how you can be so dense sometimes.”

    “ouch. that one hurt.”

   you roll your eyes. “why are you here? i have nothing to say to you.”

   “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

   “not like you care, though, is it?”

    draco’s nostrils flare. his throat bobs, eyes tracing the length of your throat like he’s a hungry vampire. his lower lip slips between his teeth, the expression startling you. he looks like he’s trying to reel himself back, like some unwanted emotion is fighting for dominance in his brain.

    “you’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” he asks after a moment.

   “you think?”

    “i still don’t know what i did to piss you off so much.”

   you bark out a laugh. “no, of course you don’t. god forbid a malfoy is self-aware for once.”

    he groans. “can you not just make things simple? why do we have to go around in circles like this? it’s a waste of time!”

    “is that meant to be an apology?”

   “how can i apologise when i don’t even know what i did?” he’s starting to sound desperate, like this conversation is taking the life from him. 

    you lean back, pulling the box into your lap protectively. in truth, you don’t even know how to word why you’re so upset - it makes sense in your head, but articulating it to someone else is just going to make you sound stupid, maybe even a little delusional. you should know draco by now, people will say. you should know what he’s like, that he cares for no one besides himself. getting upset over him showing his true colours is stupid, a waste of time and energy.

   but you look into his blue eyes right now, wanting nothing more than for him to just understand. understand what, you don’t even want to admit, not to yourself or anyone else. 

   “you hurt my feelings,” you mumble. 

   draco inhales sharply. “i didn’t think i could do that. i never thought you’d let me.”

    “well, you did. congratulations.”   

   “jesus, y/n, it’s not like i wanted to. what did i even say?”

   you stare at him. he stares back. the ball will drop eventually, you know, because draco is smart, smarter than you’ve ever given him credit for. he examines your expression, and you watch the moment his eyebrows start to relax in realisation, the frown form on his face. it makes anxiety coil in the pit of your stomach, because maybe this is just a little too vulnerable. maybe letting draco figure this out on his own was a bad idea.

    but it’s too late now. he draws back slowly, hands curled around the privacy curtain until the fabric is creasing and knotted in his fingers. “wait. . .”

    “go, draco,” you demand. “i have shit to do. business to take care of.”

    “y/n-”

   “go, draco!”

    he stares at you a moment longer before running a hand through his hair and walking out the room. you wait till the door is closed, and then you wait till his footsteps can no longer be heard, and then you throw the box of trinkets to the ground, watching the emerald slip across the wooden floor.

    ---

     the streets of london always look a little different when you’re angry. a little more violent. a little more real.

   muggle london in itself has always felt like a very hostile place to you, but when you’re angry, things get clearer. you notice the vomit stain on the curb, the neglected baby pram in the bush, the beer bottles smashed beneath window sills. it becomes a different place - it just depends on how you’re feeling.

    tonight, you are angry, and everything around you is angry, too.

    you just want a set of car keys, not the actual car. muggle car keys sell at a good price, depending on who you’re dealing with. nobody has requested them, and usually you don’t go out unless asked to do so by a client, but tonight, you just want to be out. you want to be away from the wizarding world. you want to cause havoc with your fingers in the best way you know how.

    it’s busy. it always is. you can guarantee that almost everyone around you has car keys in their pocket - that’s why global warming is so bad. some of them even wear them around their neck, dangling from multicoloured chains with little souvenirs banging against their chests. those would be so easy to just rip off and run away, but you’ve decided to be subtle, which means your eyes are trained on the bulges in people’s coat pockets. so many of them, so careless. 

    a man in a tracksuit seems like the best option. you follow him for ten minutes, keeping your head down, before he finally breaks away from his group of drunken friends. he laughs to himself, stumbling just the perfect amount - he’s drunk, but not drunk enough to be falling over himself, which makes slipping your hand into his pocket a pretty easy deal.

   you go for the kill, quickening your pace, dipping your hand into his pocket-

   he grabs your wrist, and before you even have a chance to blink, you’re on the ground.

    a gasp is ripped from your throat at both the shock and the pain that spears up your spine. the guy is yelling, stumbling back, and holy shit, if he doesn’t shut up right now, the whole of london is going to be on you.

   gathering as much strength as you can, you roll onto your side and push yourself to your knees. “hey man, calm down. sorry. i thought you were my friend.”

    “did you just try and rob me?” he yells.

   “no! no, of course-”

    “you psycho bitch!” he lunges for you, all drunken vowels and grabby hands. you have no idea what to make of his intentions, you just know you’ve fucked up, and you need to get out of here.

    his hands slam into your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. a cry escapes you, but not from the pain. a tiny snap sounds from your back pocket, and you know without having to look that your wand has just broken in half - yet again. dumbledore is going to start getting very suspicious.

    “son of a bitch,” you growl, before raising your hands. “listen, hey. i’m sorry. i’ve said that already. you need to calm down before-”

    “before what?” he howls. “you kill me? are you threatening me?”

    your eyes widen. “no! would you just-”

    the man opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are sucked back in when a hand wraps around his arm and yanks him back. you wince at the sound of his head cracking against the tarmac, but you don’t get a chance to comment before draco is kneeling beside you, one hand cradling your head, the other resting on your knee. his touch alone is enough to spread warmth through your previously frozen limbs, and you hate that. you hate it so much.

    you tug your knee from his grip. “what the hell are you doing here?”

   “are you bleeding?” he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. when he pulls away, his fingertip glows with a red liquid. 

   “oh. i guess i am.”

   “christ, y/n. do you ever just...” he closes his eyes, taking a moment to redirect his anger. it’s an amusing sight, and you almost smile until you remember you’re mad at him. forever mad at him.

   you jerk your head out of his grip, too. “i’m fine. stop worrying.”

    “clearly i have to, or else you’re going to get yourself killed.” he glances over his shoulder, where the drunken man is struggling to sit up, still slurring protestations. “by a muggle.”

    “he wouldn’t have killed me,” you grumble. “although my wand is broke, so maybe he would have.”

   draco’s eyes widen. you wave him off before he has a chance to chastise you again - in truth, you just want to get out of here, car keys be damned. hastily, you push yourself to your feet, wobbling only slightly, but draco must see this tiny action as a full-on collapse risk, as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, grumbling curses under his breath. you’re such a pain in the arse, apparently, and god, he wishes he wasn’t stuck with you all the time, and he’s so baffled by the fact you’re still alive, it’s probably all thanks to him, blah, blah, blah.

   you listen to him rant the entire way back to malfoy manor. you don’t argue his choice of location, because you can see narcissa standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, and you already know she’s got a cup of tea waiting for you in the sitting room. you almost smile, but that would ruin the effect.

    she rushes out to meet you and draco halfway, immediately grabbing your face and tilting your head back and forth. you can taste blood on your teeth.

    “what happened?” she breathes, but doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “draco, take them into the lounge.”

   “oh, the lounge,” you coo. “you are spoiling me!”

    “be quiet,” draco hisses, doing as his mother says. he tosses you unceremoniously onto the plush sofa, and you have to ignore the inappropriate thrill that shoots up your body. 

   narcissa appears not ten seconds later, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. you give her a grin, which she rolls her eyes at, even as she sits beside you and brushes your hair away from your face. you take a sip of the tea, smile in thanks, and then lean your head back.

   “sorry about this.”

   narcissa sighs. her breath tickles your cheek, smelling oddly of incense. “i don’t know what we’re going to do with you, y/n.”

   “put me down.” you make a stabbing gesture into your arm and mouth lethal injection at draco. he purses his lips, clearly not taking the joke in stride. “i didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

    “you’re always worrying us,” draco hisses, which earns him a sharp look from narcissa. he meets his mothers eyes and his shoulders deflate. he runs his hands down his face. “you’re just . . . always doing something.”

    “i know,” you mumble. “sorry.”

    “draco, don’t stress them out,” says narcissa, which surprises you; you’ve always known narcissa has a secret soft spot for you, but she’s always tried her hardest to keep it just that - a secret. yet here she is, combing your hair back, giving you a cup of tea, telling her son to treat you nicely. it’s like you’ve entered a different world. “i’m gonna go and make some calls. keep them comfortable, okay?”

   draco nods, lips still pursed, forever displeased. you used to laugh at that expression on his face, but now it just makes you feel bad. 

   narcissa leaves the room, and then it’s just you and draco. you watch as he watches you, eyes never wavering, shoulders never relaxing. he’s got his arms folded over his chest like he’s keeping guard. 

    “i meant it, you know,” you say. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i thought it would be an easy job.”

    “who are you doing business with now? bailey again?”

    “no.” you look down, surprisingly shameful. “it was just for myself. i needed out of the castle, and. . .” you shrug. “you know me. i can’t do anything easy.”

   he scoffs. “yeah, i know.”

   “so i’m sorry.”

   draco closes his eyes and rubs his temples. the rings on his fingers glisten beneath the fancy lights. his knuckles pop, the veins in his arms protruding. “please stop apologising.”

   you blink. “alright.”

    “you act like i don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but i do.” he looks at you, hands dropping to his sides. “just because i don’t have to do it myself, doesn’t mean i don’t understand. why else do you think i haven’t stopped you?”

    your breath catches. you raise a brow, tilting your head cruelly. “you wouldn’t have been able to stop me. you think i’d listen to you?”

    “yeah. i think you would.”

   you reel back, jaw dropping open. “excuse-”

    “you always act like you hate me, but you forget you’ve been coming to my house for years. you forget i’ve known you since we were eleven. you forget that i don’t just put up with anyone. i’ve had time to figure you out, y/n, no matter how much you like to pretend i haven’t.” he folds his arms and leans against the door. his hair is rumpled, along with his shirt and jeans. so casual, so unlike himself. “but earlier on, in the dorms. . . you surprised me with that one.”

    your stomach curls. oh, good god, he’s bringing that up now. you’re sat here with a busted chin and a potential criminal charge, and he’s bringing this up. you could headbutt him.

    despite your glare, he continues. “i knew you didn’t hate me, but i never thought. . . i never thought you liked me, you know? especially not-”

   “don’t say it.”

   his lips twist. “i have to.”

   “no you don’t.”

    “do you love me?”

    your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, which is answer enough for you. love is such a strong word, and you could easily say no, that what you feel for draco is nothing more than a little crush. he’s got the nice blue eyes, and the money, and the perfect hair. he’s got a smile that lights up rooms. it’s a crush. you fancy him, and that’s all there is to it.

    but love sounds pretty accurate. more accurate, actually.

    you swallow. draco watches the bob of your throat, and you watch his. above your head, the massive clock ticks, ticks, ticks. 

     slowly, he reaches forward and swipes his thumb over your chin. it stings just a little, but you’ve felt worse pain, so you let him do it without jerking away. 

     “cat got your tongue?” he whispers.

    you shiver. “i don’t. . . i don’t know what you want me to say.”

    “it’s not about what i want. i was asking a simple question. just give me the truth.”

    “you want the truth?”

   he inhales, hesitates, and then nods.

    “yeah, draco,” you whisper. “i think i love you.”

     slowly, draco draws away. his eyes never leave your own, that frosty blue colour reminding you of the winter sky, or a cold december morning. you remember all those christmas’s at hogwarts when draco would stay at the castle, waking him up because you thought it would annoy him to have your face be the first thing he sees. you always commented on the dreary smile that played on his lips when you did that, and he would always say, “i thought you were someone else.”

    but that dreary smile is returning, pulling across his face, and it doesn’t falter. right now, there is no mistake. his eyes are on you, and he knows it is you, the person who has apparently made his life a living hell for so many years. you’re the ache in his spine, the one he can’t wait to get rid of.

    but you’re also the one he rescued from the rain. 

    you’re the one who cursed hermione granger when she punched him in the nose.

   you’re the one who’s just confessed your love to him.

   shit.

   “don’t look at me like that,” you say, voice hoarse. “don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

   “i didn’t know,” he says immediately, like he’s desperate for you to know he was clueless. “did you know?”

    “kind of. i wanted to ignore it-”

    draco shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no, no. did you know that i love you, too?”

    you open your mouth, but no words come out. your brain just short circuits, taking a second to catch on to what he’s said. that dreary smile is still playing at his lips, and you’re waiting for the moment it turns into a sneer, a mocking little smirk.

    it doesn’t.

   “oh right,” you mumble. “no. i had no idea.” you pause. “are you taking the piss out of me?”

    he laughs, a rare and pleasant sound. he approaches you, kneels at your side on the sofa and cups your head in his hands. you melt into him, even though every instinct in your body is telling you to pull away, to run away, because this is nothing more than false hope. he’s playing a trick on you. you’ve annoyed him to breaking point, and now he’s found the perfect chance for revenge.

    but his hands are so warm, and nice, and your cheek dips into his palm so easily, like it belongs there.

    “you’ve always been kind of not smart in my eyes,” he says.

   your eyes widen. “hey!”

   “kidding. i’m kidding.” he chuckles, running his thumb along your lower lip. “but you’re not doing your intelligence any justice right now. i thought i was making my feelings pretty clear.”

   you glare; he knows full well he hasn’t made his feelings clear. neither of you have. you’ve spent the past seven years pretending to hate each other.

   he grins. “okay, maybe i didn’t make it so easy. but you didn’t make it easy for me, either.”

   “i still don’t believe you.”

   he raises a brow. “why?”

   you shrug. “it just doesn’t seem possible that someone like you could fall in love with someone like me.”

    his eyes soften. “wow. maybe you are not very smart.” 

   before you have a chance to protest, he kisses you. just like that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, or maybe like it’s an action he’s been waiting to do for years, and now he’s finally got the chance. that’s what it’s like for you, this coil unravelling in your gut after years and years and years of ignoring it’s existence.

   you run your hands through his hair, tugging on those pesky strands at the back that always stick up because he refuses to wear anything other than collared shirts. he growls into your mouth, pulling you closer, closer, closer, until your legs are tangled with his, and his fingers are tracing a line down the centre of your throat. he stops at the hollow, just to feel the bob of your throat as nerves spiral through you. he grins against your mouth, pulling away to see the shock in your eyes.

    he’s so proud of himself. he’s made you a mess.

    you smile awkwardly, trying to regain some amount of composure. he watches you, heavy lidded, one hand still clutching your knee as the other curls around your throat, just where your neck and shoulders meet. the way he stares at you, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 

     “so,” you begin. “you’re worry wasn’t actually just for your family name, was it?”

   draco sighs, plonking his forehead against your own. “no, y/n, it wasn’t. my worry was losing you. which i very nearly did tonight.”

   “don’t be so dramatic. i wouldn’t have died.”

   “you could have.”

   “but i wouldn’t have, because that guy was drunk, and a muggle, and-”

   “are you two arguing again?”

   you and draco jump apart as narcissa storms into the lounge, wand clutched to her chest. her narrowed eyes are firm on draco. 

   “i told you to keep them comfortable!” she exclaims. “can you not put your differences aside for ten minutes?”

    you grin, teasingly running a finger along draco’s spine. “yeah draco. listen to mummy.”

    he growls, but turns to narcissa and says, “sorry, mother. you know how y/n gets.”

   “yes, i know,” narcissa mumbles. “but they’re injured. now, let me take this phone call, and then we’ll set up the guest bedroom. can i leave you alone for ten more minutes?”

   “yes,” you and draco both reply immediately. narcissa hums, and walks out.

   draco immediately spins, grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, slamming his lips to yours. you laugh against his mouth, melting into the embrace for only a second before pulling away and saying, “she’s trusting us to behave for ten more minutes, draco. this isn’t behaving.”

    “oh, fuck that,” he scoffs. “come here.”

   you let him pull you closer, closer than you have ever been with him before, because you’ve always been so convinced he never wanted you more than a few feet away from him. suddenly, everything draco has ever said to you is reconstructed in your mind, every action, every little look. 

   you wonder if he’s doing the same. 

[let-them-read-fics]

Flames

Requested By Anon "King" -- Cooking au, enemies to lovers, inspiration from Hell's Kitchen

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

AU: Chef (Lisa & Reader are chefs)

Word Count: ~ 5,904

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering / Rivalry, Fluff, Suggestive Scene

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Helllloooo, peeps! I hope all of you are taking care of yourselves and having great days / nights, wherever you are :) Special thanks to this anon for being so sweet in their request -- I love cooking shows, too, so this was a fun one to write. Thank you for requesting! You're welcome in my inbox anytime ❤ Hope you guys enjoy this one :)

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Three sirloins, dying on the pass!" You shout out to your fellow chefs, shaking your head in disapproval. Service has been running fairly smoothly tonight, but a recent influx of celebrities coming from a nearby award show is slowing things to a halt. 

You give attention to the pans in front of you, stirring each of them in the pattern you've set and keeping a steady rhythm. Consistency is key, and you're one of the only chefs who hasn't lost focus yet. 

The other? Lisa Manoban. 

"Side dishes heading to the pass," she announces, setting the pans down for your head chef to plate and approve of. He does so without a second thought, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. 

The cocky smirk on Lisa's lips soon falters, though, when he gives her a warning. "You were almost too late, Manoban. Speed things up. Y/N is keeping the pace set, and you need to follow suit." 

Checkmate.

"Yes, chef," she nods, though you can tell she's annoyed. You snicker quietly, and thankfully the sounds of the kitchen conceal your little noise. If your manager were to hear you you'd surely get reprimanded, and Lisa doesn't deserve the satisfaction of seeing that. 

She returns to her station across from you, briefly meeting your gaze as a competitive fire flashes in her eyes, ignited by the comment from your higher-up.  

This is the routine that the two of you have settled into ever since you were hired five months ago. Both of you had applied for the same position, and you quickly worked your way up to where you are now. Every time you were promoted, she was never far behind. The tense nature of your relationship (if you'd even call it that) is rooted in who can put out the best tasting dishes and receive the most recognition and praise for their work. It's childish, but you'd be lying to say that part of you doesn't enjoy it. 

Especially when you win. 

Tonight is shaping up to be one of those nights, and your confidence builds with every compliment you receive. You don't let it go to your head, though; if anything, you use it as a reason to push yourself harder. 

Lisa isn't discouraged in the slightest, and she produces some of her best work right alongside yours.

"Chef, table 15 has requested for the cooks who prepared their dishes to come out to their table. They want to thank them properly," the server informs your manager, cocking his head to the side to motion towards them. 

After recognizing them as a pair of world-renowned fashion designers, he decides to sacrifice some of his best cooks' time on the line and grant their wishes. 

"What dishes did they have?" 

"Both ordered the sirloin and asparagus with potato purée, sir." 

Your head shoots up at that, excited by the confirmation of what you had been hoping for. Your senior nods to the server, turning around at the pass to look at you. 

"Y/N, Lisa; head out to greet our guests, please." 

"Right away, sir."

"On it, chef."

Both of you inform your assistants of the time left on your respective components before following after the waiter. Lisa not-so-subtly elbows you in an attempt to walk in front of you, but you step on her foot to prevent her from doing so. 

Pushing and shoving each other like schoolgirls until you're in line of sight of the customers, you follow the waiter up to their table. He leaves shortly after dropping you off.

"Good evening, ladies," you greet with a smile, watching as their faces light up. 

Lisa steps forward and extends a hand to one of them, making a crimson blush rush to her cheeks. A new feeling blossoms in your chest at their interaction, and you don't know how to take it. Deciding to just move on, you ask about their meals. 

"I hope dinner was everything you wanted it to be."

"Oh, absolutely. The sirloin was cooked perfectly. Which one of you is responsible for it?"

A proud smile forms on your lips at that, and you bow your head lightly. "Me, miss. I'm glad you enjoyed." 

"I'll have to come back more often, then. Cute and skilled? Count me in." She smirks at you, eyes taking in the sight of you in your uniform as she shamelessly flirts. You blush under her gaze, but hide it with a smug smile of your own.

"We'd be lucky to have you back anytime." 

You shoot a glance at the other girl as well, making sure to keep her feeling included. Lisa's eye roll goes unnoticed by you, as does the dejected look that threatens to show on her beautiful face. 

"My favorite part was the side dishes. The sirloin was great, but that purée was delicious. And don't even get me started on the risotto from earlier," the other woman gushes, praising Lisa's work for the night. The Thai girl perks up at that, her confidence on its way to being fully restored. 

"Ah, you're too kind." She attempts to sound humble, but you know the truth; she lives for this sort of thing. The rush of cooking and serving up dish after tasty dish is thrilling, but nothing compares to getting compliments from the customers. 

"I'm just stating facts..." she leans forward in her chair, obviously eyeing Lisa's chest as she reads her name off of her chef coat, "...Lisa." 

"Oh, yeah? How about I whip you up another batch, then? Any side you want." Your rival offers, a bruisingly sexy smile on her face as she gazes down at the woman. It isn't new for either of you to flirt with the customers and schmooze your way into their hearts (and wallets), but something in the way Lisa admires the diner makes you jealous. 

Her eyes scan over the menu as if she's looking through the options again, but she turns back to bite her lip and toy with Lisa some more. "Are you on the menu?"

She chuckles at the line, clearly not expecting that; she should've, though; it's one of the most overused pick-ups that you've ever heard. 

"I can be--"

Just as Lisa goes to lean closer to her, the waiter comes back. For some reason unknown to you, you release a breath of relief, thankful for the interruption. 

"I hate to break this up, but our chefs are needed back in the kitchen." He informs, linking his arms behind his back respectfully. 

"Ah, that's too bad. Maybe we'll stick around until service is over." Lisa's fan says, looking to her friend with a shrug of her shoulders in a silent request for her opinion. 

"Maybe, if that's alright with you."

Your customer looks up at you with hopeful eyes, though she attempts to hide it to some degree; she's not as brazen as her counterpart. 

"Of course, darling," you decide to play into it. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. I do recommend getting some dessert, though; pass the time a little faster. I'll be making the sweetened soufflé, if you're interested." 

"Sounds delicious; I'm sold." She smiles at you, looking you up and down one last time. 

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies." You nod, bidding both of them farewell as you turn to follow after the waiter. Lisa does the same, and you can feel her hot on your trail shortly after. 

"Back to your stations, both of you," your executive chef says upon your arrival, as if you had other intentions. 

"Yes, chef," both of you respond, heading back without a second thought. 

After pushing out a few more main dishes, you're instructed to rotate positions as the desert course kicks off. Other chefs will handle the remaining entrées now and allow you the opportunity to take over with the sweets. 

Once you've buttered and coated the soufflé dish with granulated sugar, you combine the appropriate ingredients in the bowl that rests on the countertop in front of you, making sure to keep an eye on the milk as it heats up on the stovetop. Once both tasks are completed, you stir some of the milk into the batter you made, tempering the mixture. After you're satisfied with the consistency of it, you add the rest of it back to the pot on the stove and carefully whisk the ingredients together. 

As that mellows out, you beat the egg whites required for the dish and add in the different extracts that the recipe calls for. Before long, you've folded both components in with one another and the dessert is ready to be baked. 

"Nice work, Y/N. Keep it up." Your head chef encourages, making pride swell in your chest again.

You continue on with that steady pace, and all of your soufflés come out as tasty as ever, receiving plenty of praise from your happy customers. Lisa works just as hard, though, and her toffee puddings are a major hit with the diners. 

Two hours later, dinner service is finally over. 

Lisa finishes cleaning up her station as she sneaks a glance over to you, feeling her heart beat a little faster at the way you push your hair out of your face. A few drops of condensation tumble their way down the bottle of water that you're drinking from, clearly exhausted and hot after working so hard for so long, and she bites her lip. You're too attractive for your own good, and Lisa reprimands herself for admiring you in such a way. 

You're practically enemies, after all; constantly striving for better positions and more attention, it's a never-ending battle of who can come out on top. She loves the game, if she's honest; keeping you on your toes is one of her favorite pastimes, and the banter is always a plus. 

Especially when it gets heated. 

She loves the way your brow twitches and your lips press together when you're forced to bite your tongue and keep the bickering to a minimum. You're too mature to play into her games most of the time -- not wanting to piss your head chef off -- but sometimes she gets you to break and fire off another reply, not caring what he'll say. 

She loves it. Nothing will ever compare to getting you riled up like that. 

"How's my girlfriend doing out there?" Lisa asks the server with a smile, tilting her head forward to motion to the dining room. 

"They're the only ones still here. I have to hand it to them; they're dedicated." He chuckles, clapping Lisa on the back as he passes her. "They've been talking about both of you all night." He concludes, looking between the two of you before retreating to the break room to change. 

Lisa laughs at that, and you curse yourself under your breath for enjoying the sound. 

"Come on, let's go see them before they storm the kitchen," she plays, winking at you as she pushes the swinging door open. 

At The Table, A Few Minutes Later

"I saved you a bite," your customer says, smiling at you as she reaches for a spoon that hasn't been used yet. Her friend catches the uncertain look in your eye, and she decides to ease your fears. 

"Don't worry, she didn't slobber all over it. She cut that piece out before she started eating earlier." 

You nod, thankful for the clarification. The woman turns back to Lisa, satisfied with her good deed for the day, and the two begin flirting again. 

After the woman in front of you scoops the tasty dessert up, she holds the spoon out in front of your lips. A knowing smile spreads across your cheeks, and you open your mouth for her to feed you. 

She's cute, you must say. Her auburn hair falls across her shoulders in perfect waves, complementing the velvety color of her leather jacket wonderfully. A pattern of freckles runs across the bridge of her nose, and a single, deep-set dimple presses into the soft skin of her right cheek. 

The sound of her laughter carries out across the room as you attempt to take the whole piece in one bite -- she offered way too much at once for a single bite, but you never back down from a challenge. 

Lisa subconsciously grips the tablecloth a little tighter when she sees her put a finger to your lips, preventing the food from spilling out and making a mess everywhere. You giggle and chew it up, eventually managing to swallow it without getting choked. Your fingers wrap around the customer's wrist, gently pulling her hand away from your lips as you rub her tender skin. 

The woman in front of Lisa sighs, clearly wanting attention. 

"Sorry, what were you saying?" She shakes her head, willing her envy to go away so she can flirt some more. 

"I was asking if you have plans tonight. You're probably tired from working, so I figured I could treat you to some R&R." Her tone drops lower than normal, and a suggestive look shines in her eyes as she gives Lisa another once-over. 

"Hmm, sounds like just what the doctor ordered," she leans in a bit closer, egging the girl on. They don't call Lisa a playgirl for nothing. 

"Your place or mine?" She whispers into her ear, sounding desperate to get the chef alone. 

"M-"

Lisa's response is abruptly cut off by the sound of a muffled noise of surprise from you, and she looks across the table again to find the other customer's lips pressed against yours. Your shoulders relax after a second as you return the gesture, but you eventually pull away to put some distance between the two of you. 

Fuming, now too jealous to think straight, Lisa unceremoniously stands from her seat and steps around the table to you. The fact that she was just a few minutes away from taking her customer home and doing much more than kissing is lost on her -- seeing you in such a position with the other woman sparked something in her. 

"If you'll excuse us, my colleague and I have to get going." She announces to the women, gripping your arm to pull you up from your chair. Her hold is firm, and the way her fingertips dig into your forearm sends a chill down your spine. 

"Don't wait up." She adds, dragging you behind herself as she slams the kitchen door open. She's much more bold now that the head chef has left for the night -- clearly she pays little mind to being loud or rough. 

"What the hell, Lisa?" You bite back, attempting to shake free of her grip. 

She only tightens it, saying, "Quiet, L/N."

After stepping out into the deserted hallway and ensuring that the coast is clear, Lisa opens the door to one of the utility closets and pushes you inside. You stumble a bit, feeling the unforgiving edge of one of the metal racks dig into your back as you collide with it. 

"What is your problem?" You hiss, spurred on by the stinging sensation radiating across your back. 

"You," she says, turning around to lock the door behind herself. Your brows furrow, but she's quick to explain.

"Out there kissing that customer, letting her put her hands all over you… it's pathetic." 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Pathetic? Look at yourself, for Christ's sake; two minutes later and you would've been screwing that girl in the back of an Uber." 

She tuts at you, stalking closer. "Don't go telling lies now, Y/N/N. You know I would've taken her home on my motorcycle and then got her in bed."

You groan at her cockiness; it exudes from her in waves, irking you to no end. Sometimes you wonder if she was made to annoy you. 

"Whatever, Lisa. I'm leaving," you shoulder check her on the way to the door, but she's quick to react. Before you can move to unlock it, she has your back up against the door and her hands on your hips, keeping you pinned there. Her lips are on yours in a flash, urgently working against them in a show of how eager she is for you. 

You worked her up out there more than you realized, and she couldn't take it anymore. 

You mumble against her mouth in shock, taking a second to decide what to do with your hands. Should you push her away, or pull her impossibly closer? The choice is made for you when she parts your legs with her thigh, sliding it between them and pulling your hips forward so that you brush against it. 

A groan slips out of your mouth at the new sensation, though it's muffled against her lips. She smirks, letting go of your hips to reach around behind you and untie the apron that's secured around your waist. She praises you as you rut against her leg again, sliding her tongue across your bottom lip to ask for entrance as the material falls to the floor with a quiet noise of impact. 

Her fingertips undo the buttons of your top with haste, and she helps you slide it off your arms. It remains pooled at your waist, still tucked into your pants. 

"Tell me if you want me to stop," she whispers against your lips before pecking them one more time, leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline and towards your collarbone. 

Asking for consent is sexy as hell; especially coming from the goddess in front of you. 

You curtly nod, bringing your hands up to her back. Your nails drag along the material of her uniform, encouraging her. 

"Not so vocal now, are we?" Lisa teases, tilting your head back to grant herself more access to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

"I can walk out this door right now, you know?" You say more than ask, the syllables mixing with moans as she leaves yet another darkening love bite on you. 

"We both know that isn't true," she chuckles lowly, making you weak in the knees. You'll be damned to let go of your pride, though. 

Gathering up all of the self control you possess, you shove her away and pull your shirt back over your arms, beginning to redo the buttons. You suppress the smirk begging to make itself visible when you notice the smug expression on her face fall. Smoothing the material out, you run a hand through your hair and readjust it before unlocking and opening the door. 

The second your left foot makes it through the threshold, she's wrapping her arms around you and tugging you back in. A wave of relief washes over you at that -- you were praying she'd do exactly what she did. You hadn't imagined yourself making it down the hall, and you're not sure if you would've had the self restraint to do so.

"How the hell are you so stubborn?" She asks, letting you take over now. You drag over one of the folding chairs you spotted earlier, commanding her to sit in it with a mere glance. 

"Letting you win isn't an option, Lis. Somebody has to wipe that stupid grin off your face and put you in your place; it might as well be me." 

"How selfless," she holds her hand over her heart, face shining with mock proudness. "I'm touched." 

"Shut up already," you laugh, straddling her waist as you sit on her lap. Her hands instinctively go to your thighs, running up and down them to get you going. She can feel your warmth through the material of your pants, and the feeling is intoxicating. 

You cup her jaw and pull her closer, kissing her at a slower pace now. This one isn't as rough; it holds a whole different type of sensuality, and the occasional roll of her hips lets you know it's doing something to her, too. 

"I've wanted this for so long," she says in between kisses, gently undoing the fasteners on your jeans. 

"Really?" 

"Really." She confirms, untucking your shirt now and running her hands up your back. The cold air of the room slides under the material, ghosting over your newly exposed skin to make goosebumps appear.

"I'm surprised I held out this long," she admits, remembering all of the times she's had to stop herself from making her feelings known. 

You kiss her again before leaning back on her thighs and taking your coat and shirt off, left only in your bra. The lacey material begs to be touched, and Lisa traces the intricate patterns with her fingertips after receiving a nod from you. 

"Jesus," you moan, feeling her other hand palm your ass as she keeps you steady on her lap. 

"So beautiful," she sighs, admiring the way your cheeks have gotten flushed and how your chest rises and falls at a quicker pace now. Her hand guides the movements of your hips, and she can feel her own arousal spread to her thighs at the sight of you. 

"Who's capable of doing this to you? Making you such a needy mess?" She asks, clearly wanting an ego boost, and she squeezes your breast a little harder when you take longer than she likes to answer. 

"Y-you, Lisa." 

"That's right, baby." She kisses you again, a silent action of approval. Your movements stutter as she moves her hand to the inside of your thigh, slipping past the material of your open jeans. 

"Stop teasing already," you huff, resting your forehead against hers as you reach down to lead her hand closer to where you need her most. 

"Fine, but under one condition," she quickly caves in, sliding the thin material of your panties to the side in order to appease you. 

"Shit," you both say at the same time. In any other circumstance, you probably would've laughed at something like that, but now the atmosphere is entirely different. 

Your slick coats her fingers, and she moans at the feeling of what she's done to you.

"What's your condition?" You husk out, pressing your hand to the door behind her to give yourself better leverage to rock against her. 

"Come home with me after. I don't want to stop anytime soon." She kisses your jaw as she waits on your answer, feeling her warm breath fan out across your already heated skin. 

"Deal. Now come here."

She meets you halfway, angling her head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss as she increases the intensity of her ministrations. The sound of the chair's legs squeaking against the floor with every combined roll of your bodies makes you smile, and soon the room is filled with filthy noises of pleasure from the both of you.

The Next Morning

The sound of your phone ringing abruptly pulls you from your dream, making you blindly reach for it. Not daring to expose your eyes to the harsh morning sunlight that's pushing its way past the curtains, you stretch your arm out until your fingers brush against the smooth surface of your screen. 

You shield your eyes as you check the caller ID, only to nearly have a heart attack when you read it. 

"Good morning, sir. I'm sorry for making you wait so long." You apologize, cringing at the fact that you almost missed a call from your manager. It was probably only one or two rings away from going unanswered. 

"That's alright, Y/N," he says, sounding generous. He must be having a good day. "I'm calling to ask if you can come in. I have something I'd like to discuss with you." 

Your heart drops at that, irrationally thinking he must've somehow caught you and Lisa at the restaurant last night without you knowing, but you try to remain calm. 

"O-of course, sir. I'll be there in 30 minutes." You respond, already throwing the cover off yourself and moving to stand. 

"Thank you, Y/N. See you soon." 

He ends the call, and you try to decipher his tone. It was level and calm, holding no quality to tell you if he was angry or happy. You sigh, hoping it's nothing bad. 

You stand up and stretch the remaining tension from your body, attempting to work out the kinks Lisa made in your muscles during your tiring night together. It was everything you'd ever hoped for, and your inability to walk properly is a testament to that. 

You find a note waiting for you on the countertop in her bathroom, complete with a lipstick stain kissed onto it. You smile, picking it up. 

Morning, beautiful 

I had to leave early to take care of some business, but there's some toast waiting for you in the kitchen. It's all I had time to make. 

Help yourself to anything else you want in there.

Xoxo, Lis

In an attempt to rid yourself of the annoyingly giddy feeling warming your heart, you take your clothes -- more specifically, the pajamas that Lisa gifted you -- off and step into the shower. The steam doesn't take long to fill the room, fogging up every surface in sight. 

You look down at yourself, watching as suds trek their random paths down to your legs, and you see just how many marks Lisa really left. Your inner thighs are covered, as are your hips, neck, and abdomen, all painted in beautiful shades and designs. She was an animal, and you lived for every second of it. 

Now that you think of it, though, you'll have to dedicate a good chunk of time to covering them up with makeup before you go to the restaurant. You vow to kill her if she makes you late. 

At The Restaurant 

Releasing one last, steadying breath, you knock on the door to your boss's office.

"Come in," he says, sounding pleasant. 

When you walk in and find Lisa sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, you do a double take at her. She sports the same confused expression, but you hide your surprise and shut the door behind yourself before sitting in the seat beside her. 

"Right," he starts, linking his fingers together authoritatively as he nods. "Now that you're both here, I'd like to discuss the latest promotion available." 

Is he really going to make one of you watch while he hands the position to the other? That'll be torture -- especially if you lose. Having Lisa win like that would surely only make her teasing worse. 

"You know we need strong leadership here, and I see those qualities in both of you. I'm willing to offer you both the position of sous chef, if you can agree to work together and continue keeping your standards high. If you get too busy bickering with one another, I'll be forced to choose. You're both talented, so don't make me do that."

Lisa looks over at you, and you smile, completely taken aback. To say you're surprised is an understatement. 

"Thank you, sir." You say, snapping back to reality as you extend a hand for him to shake. 

He smiles back, looking proudly between the two of you. 

"You're welcome." 

He shakes your hand before giving the same treatment to Lisa, making her look like an excited teenager with the way her cheeks pull back in a wide grin. After talking a bit longer and working out a few specifics, the two of you leave, allowing him to attend a phone conference in peace. 

"Eee!" Lisa squeals the second you're out the door, picking you up in her arms to spin you around. You laugh at her sudden outburst, happy to have another sweet moment like this and break the tension that always seems to be swirling around the two of you. 

"I'm gonna kick your ass during service tonight," she says, smirking evilly as she sets you back down. 

"You wish. I'll wipe the floor with you." 

"Oo, kinky. I think that's the only thing we didn't try last night," she teases, tapping her chin as if she's actually thinking about it, causing you to roll your eyes and blush. 

"Shut up, Manoban. I'm sore as hell today, and I still haven't forgiven you yet." 

"Aww, does my girl need some TLC? I can help you with that, you know." 

You try not to think too far into the titles she's been giving you, but that one stands out for some reason. She likely doesn't mean anything deeper by it, but it doesn't stop you from pretending. 

You're tired of the knowing look she's sending you, so you decide to do something about it.

Sneaking a glance around the two of you, you push her against the hallway wall and kiss her. You thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on the strands to give yourself more access to her mouth, just as you did last night. She enjoyed it then, and you're hoping she likes it just as much right now. Clearly, your plan works; as you pull away from her, you're rewarded with a view of her dilated pupils, blown wide as her arousal comes back without warning. 

"That's cruel," she pouts, knowing full well you have no intention of finishing what you started. 

"Think of it as retribution." You cheerily nod, ignoring the heat pooling in your stomach at the way she's eyeing you. 

"See you tonight!" You blow her a kiss before walking away, hearing her frustrated sigh bounce off the walls.

Dinner Service

"Risotto to the pass, please!" You shout, practically begging for the line cook that you're now overseeing to do his job properly. 

"I'm a minute out, chef." 

You shake your head, but choose to ignore his incompetence for the time being. You're keeping things running smoothly, but they can easily be stalled by people like him. 

You focus on plating the entrées of another table while you wait for him to finish, and Lisa slides over the side dish that you need to add. "Thank you," you say, totally in the zone. 

"Welcome," she responds, equally as focused as you. It's definitely a quality that you admire about her; she's playful and fun, but she's serious in the kitchen. You'd clash and this whole arrangement would fail if she were any other way.

"Risotto approaching, chef." 

"Finally," you clap, ready to approve of it and send it out. Thankfully it's cooked well, and the line chef is saved from your wrath -- at least for now. 

"Service!" 

Two waiters step forward following your call, and they load the large trays into their arms before heading to the dining room. 

You get back to work on the next set of orders, reading the new tickets off to your cooks and listening for their confirmation of hearing you. 

"Try this, Y/N. I think it's missing something." Lisa says, grabbing a plastic spoon to allow you to taste test the soup waiting to be sent out. She brings the utensil up to your lips and throws it away once you gather up the liquid. 

"Basil. Tell Amanda it needs basil." 

Lisa nods, listening to you for once without question. She barks the orders out to the young chef, and the girl fires off a couple apologies as she brings the missing ingredient over. 

"Thank you, Amanda. Get back to work, I know you can do it," you encourage her, not wanting to crush her spirits too badly in the first week of her job. She's a newbie, and you remember being in her shoes once. 

Pierre, your host and main waiter, approaches the side of the pass that borders the dining room. You raise an eyebrow at his sudden presence, wordlessly asking what he needs as you stir some pasta in the pot in front of you, twisting it around your tongs to plate it. 

"We have a guest requesting to see Lisa." 

Confusion flashes across your face for a moment, but then it sinks in. Your eyes land on the woman from last night, finding her standing near the front door with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips. She waves to Lisa in greeting, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying something out of line. 

You can feel Lisa's gaze trail over to you, but you don't look up. 

"Tell her I'll be there in a minute." She orders Pierre, quickly thanking him as he heads off to do as she asked. 

She wants to say something to you, but she doesn't know exactly what. Her feelings are still jumbled from last night, and she's not too entirely certain on where you stand with one another. 

--

You subconsciously hold your breath as she approaches the girl, getting pulled in for a tight hug as if she's known her for years. Was that the "business" she had to take care of this morning? Who knows. 

They continue their conversation for a few minutes, and you distract yourself by focusing on pumping more food out. 

"Good job, team. Keep it up," you praise them, happy to see everyone working well together. They thank you for the encouragement, and promise to keep their momentum going. 

A few minutes later, as things begin to get a little hectic, you sneak a glance up at Lisa. She locks eyes with you, as if on cue. 

You can see her trying to politely leave, but the woman puts a hand on her forearm, stepping forward to flirtily whisper something in her ear. She eventually manages to get her to back away, and she points at the door. The customer glares at you over Lisa's shoulder, leaving you confused but delighted. Seeing her unhappy is a treat in and of itself. 

As Lisa turns around and starts to walk back to the kitchen, you quickly jump back into action, narrowly avoiding getting caught staring. Lisa has a sneaking suspicion that that's exactly what you were doing, but she doesn't speak on it as she rounds the corner of the pass. 

"Well?" You nonchalantly ask, glancing at her in your peripheral. Your hands arrange a new set of plates on the tray between you, and her fingers brush against yours as she adds a side salad to it. 

"She wanted to finish what she started last night." She informs, pausing before she finishes telling you what happened in order to build suspense and torture you some more. 

"I said no, of course," she assures you, smiling when she notices you sigh in relief. "I've got my eye on someone else now." 

"Yeah?" You ask, turning to look at her with a soft smile. Her change in demeanor makes your heart flutter. 

"Yeah. Amanda's looking pretty good, isn't she?"

"Hey!" You shout, a little too loud for your own good, making Lisa laugh. You apologize to the guests and staff before punching Lisa in the arm, ready to get revenge later. 

"Kidding, babe. You think I'd let you go after last night?" She cocks her head to the side, sounding genuinely confused that you could think such a thing. "Not a chance," she smiles, leaning to the side to kiss your cheek and bump your hip with her own. 

Who would've thought you could end up here with her?

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

~

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

~

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

~

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

[peach-pops]

hai! i love your hc so much and i just done reading the akaashi with karasuno's manager, it's so cute! can you please make it again but with kuroo or tsukishima? thanks a lot 😄🖤

I frickin love Kuroo so this was just so easy to write. Like as I was writing this, I was making myself giddy UGH I wish he was real. ANYWAY I still used the training camp storyline because those episodes just hit differently. Also keep sending requests!

Kuroo’s Crush on the Karasuno Manager 

I always make it a point to say that Kuroo is a huge dork but I firmly believe that when he is interested in someone, he will stop at nothing to make it known how he feels so keep that in mind

When the training camp starts, Kuroo is actually pretty excited because he has friends on the other teams and it just makes the experience more fun than playing against strangers

He knows that Karasuno is coming but he is totally caught off guard when he sees you walk in with the team because the last time Nekoma played against Karasuno, you weren’t a manager so Kuroo is like ???? pretty girl????

Kuroo does a double-take when he sees you and he is not ashamed to stare at you from across the gym. I know in his mind he’s thinking “ what the hell are they putting in Karasuno’s water?” because literally everyone from Karasuno is hot and that’s a fact

You can feel a pair of eyes on you but in a room full of people it’s kinda hard to pinpoint who but when you see Kuroo staring back at you, you almost choke on your water because you think he’s too attractive to even be real

“ Y/N-are you okay?” You feel Daichi pat your back as you nod back quickly and you literally face the opposite direction because you’re so embarrassed

It doesn’t last long because now, you have to get into manager mode since Nekoma and Karasuno are on the court next 

During the game, Kuroo is absolutely killing it I mean this dude is always on his toes but he’s moving faster than ever today because he wants to get your attention 

You’re more focused on your team since you have to take notes but whenever Kuroo makes a point, you both look up at each other and he smiles as if he’s confirming that you saw his shot 

Of course, Nekoma ends up winning and while the Karasuno boys are outside running for losing, Kuroo uses this chance to try and talk to you 

“ I couldn’t help but notice that I caught your attention, like what you see?” 

“ Oh please, don’t let it get to your head. I’m just doing my job Captain.” 

Kuroo feels his confidence boost up when he hears you call him that because you know that dude lets it go straight to his head

“ So now we have nicknames for each other? This is perfect I was already creating a list of what I could call you, how does future wife sound?” 

“ Wow. That was.... terrible. You really need to work on your flirting skills cause this won’t work on other girls.” 

“ Does that mean it’s working on you?” 

You shake your head and laugh as you look off to the side like you’re on the office because bruh, of course, it’s working on you but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction 

He uses the pause in the conversation to introduce himself but right after you introduce yourself, you get called to help the boys with their water

Daichi is totally staring Kuroo down btw 

You say your quick goodbyes but even as your walking away, Kuroo is still standing there with his hands on his hips and a huge smirk on his face because while you’re not giving into him completely, he loves a challenge 

Most of the day, Nekoma and Karasuno are both on their own courts playing matches at different times of the day and it seems like every time you both have a free minute, something always comes up 

Kuroo actually feels super down because he actually wants to have a conversation with you but you’re super busy during dinner 

plus he can’t get a word in around you when the Karasuno boys are guarding you like hawks 

You were feeling so drained from the day so after dinner, you go straight to bed but in the middle of the night you have to use the restroom so you get up and walk over in the dark to the nearest one which is down the hall 

You’re pretty freaked out because it is pretty dark and before bed, the boys were telling scary stories so you were definitely paranoid that someone was going to come up from behind a corner and murder you 

After you finished up in the bathroom, you walked back to the room but you bump into someone and you could feel your soul leave your body and you let out the wimpiest shriek ever 

“ Wha- It’s me!” Kuroo whispers loudly before he lets out a louder laugh,” you are so easy to scare I didn’t even do anything!”

“ I was not scared! I was just startled...there’s a difference. What are you even doing up?” 

Kuroo holds up some money and nods towards the end of the hallway,” Vending machine, you should come with me. I can walk you back to your room after so you don’t get scared again and wake up the whole school.” 

You let out an annoyed huff but you walk side by side with Kuroo as the two of you silently chat about how the training camp is going

Even though there’s hardly enough light, Kuroo still can’t help but stare at you when you’re not looking up at him. 

He knows everything between the two of you is just playful for now but he knows he is already catching feelings and he hasn’t even known you for a full day

Kuroo gets two drinks in the vending machine and hands you one before he sits down against the wall. He uses it to see if you’ll join him or not and luckily you accept his offer and sit down right beside him 

“ You know, we’re gonna beat Karasuno again tomorrow, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“ That’s pretty bold of you to say. You’ve seen how the guys play, they’re starting to get a real rhythm going and I wouldn’t be surprised if we turn things around tomorrow” You smirked as you leaned your head against the wall. 

The thing about Kuroo was that gears were always turning in his head and working overtime. He wasn’t a crazy overthinker by any means but he was always thinking of ideas so he started developing a plan in his head

“ Tell you what, let’s make a bet right here. If Nekoma wins tomorrow, you have to go on a date with me.” 

LOOK AND LISTEN  Kuroo is hardly ever this bold with a girl he likes no matter what anybody says but he knows that there’s a small possibility that could say yes and that’s all he needs to boost his ego 

“ And what if you guys lose?” 

“ Trust me, we won’t lose, shake on it?” 

You look down at Kuroo’s hand and without a second thought, you shake it softly,” Good luck Captain. You’ll need it.” 

TRUST ME Kuroo did not get a wink of sleep because all he could think about that night was where he would take you two on a date because obviously, he knew Nekoma would win, especially now since he had even more motivation than the day before 

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to watch Karasuno and Nekoma’s game because after all, it wasn’t like it was a real tournament but you could feel that the overall vibe on the court gym was different

If you thought Kuroo was playing aggressively yesterday, than oh boy you were in for it when this game rolled through 

Not a single ball went through Kuroo when he was at the front. This boy was DETERMINED to land a date with you 

With every point Nekoma lost, that only fueled Kuroo to do even better than before and it was no surprise that Nekoma took both sets

After the teams shook hands and thanked each other for the game, Kuroo headed straight towards you with the biggest smile on his face

“ So, what do you think?”

“ Mm, I think you’re pretty sweaty to be honest,” you laughed as Kuroo used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead,” but congratulations, you actually weren’t half bad. I’m guessing I owe you a date then?” 

“ Yep, seems like it. Although if you want to go ahead and congratulate me in some other way, I wouldn’t stop you,” Kuroo tapped his cheek with his finger as he leaned his head down for you to kiss his cheek.

OMG IM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM JUST IMAGINE GAHHHH

You rolled your eyes as you felt the eyes of some of the Nekoma and Karasuno players looking towards the two of you. You stood up on your tippy-toes as you pressed a light kiss onto his cheek which earned some oooooos from Nekoma  and curses from Karasuno 

“ KUROO STEP AWAY FROM HER IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!”

“ Aw that’s cute, look at Daichi being protective.” 

“ Um, no,he’s serious. You should really go now.”

[na-na-na-nanna]

Catching Feelings

Part: six

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Wordcount: 5980

Pairing: goblin!Yoongi x reader

Warnings: cursing, drinking, smoking, kissing

Summary: Yoongi, a 700 year old goblin who has grown tired of his eternal excistence and wishes to become human, must gain all the human emotions before he can achive this, but the only way to do so is by kissing the humans who possess them

A/N: this got a lot longer than i planned, so i hope it’s not too boring. Also hope the shift in narrator won’t be too confusing. Anyways I’m a little nervous about this chapter

[20:28]

Yoongi had experienced human parties before, but to be frank it had been quite awhile. The last time was probably back in the Joeson era if he remembered correctly. At that time Jin had dragged him along, and forced him to partake in every human activity imaginable, and so he did. He drank their alcohol, sang their songs and played their games much to everyone else’s amusement. Yoongi didn’t particularly understand why his old friend and the humans he used to surround himself with wanted to dedicate so much of their mortal time doing such silly things, but then again he never really understood much about them to begin with.

“Which one of these say ‘I’m down to do it, but I’m not a slut?’” Yoongi was immediately snapped out of his trip down memory lane as Jungkook waved, what looked to him like, two identical black t-shirts in front of his face.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi answered truthfully.

The younger man was clearly unsatisfied with the lack of help and let out a big sigh before turning his attention to Jin.

“Same question,” He said, and Jin examined the two options that had been laid before him for a second before he let out a short “left one”.

For the next couple of minutes Yoongi just sat on the coach and quietly watched as Jungkook and Jin were bickering with one another over some expensive watch of Jin’s that Jungkook wanted to borrow for the party.

“You never let me borrow any of your stuff” Jungkook whined.

“That’s because they’re my stuff” The older one huffed in response.

“But you have so many, and you never go out,” Jungkook began to argue. “Don’t you think it’s a shame that no one gets to see them?”

“Not my problem,” Jin said without giving an ounce of care for what the boy had just said, and said boy knew he had lost yet another argument with his immortal master.

Jin had changed a lot since Yoongi had last encountered him, he had noticed, and he couldn’t figure out if it was simply just the passing time or if it was living in the human world that was the course of his drastic change of character. The great and beautiful Kim Seokjin, that Yoongi remembered from centuries ago, loved humans and would never pass on an opportunity to be around them. Back then Yoongi had struggled to understand Jin’s fascination with mankind, but had nonetheless always followed his friend's request to indulge in anything the human world had to offer.

It was strange how the tables had turned, and it was now Yoongi that was chasing after humanity while it seemed like Jin had left it behind. This change was truly strange, Yoongi thought, he could have sworn that Jin at some point even had a human…

“The car is ready for you now,” Jin said to the two party goers in his house.

“Sweet!” Jungkook exclaimed “I call shotgun”

[21:02]

The moment Yoongi and Jungkook stepped out of the car, the cold winter air hit them like a titlewave, and Jungkook was regretting his decision to wear the short sleeved shirt. He tried to hide the shiver that was taking over his body as two girls, which were also wearing outfits that did not seem to fit the weather conditions, walked by. It didn't make sense to wear so little clothing this time of year, Yoongi thought, and he wondered what could be the reason why humans choose to expose so much skin despite it being so impractical.

As the two girls passed them, Jungkook sent them a slight head nod followed by a cheesy smile, which immediately sent the girls into a fit of giggles. Once the girls were out of hearing distance Jungkook nudged Yoongi in the side with his elbow and with a smug smile on his face he said “See what I mean? A smile like that will make any girl’s knee weak”. Yoongi nodded as to show he had heard the information given to him, but he was still processing what actually to do with it.

“You should try it”

“Try what?” Yoongi asked.

“Try smiling for once,” Jungkook commanded “Like this” To demonstrate his face morphed into a big warm smile, almost textbook perfect. Yoongi studied his face for a bit before he tried to mimic the expression. He slowly opened his mouth to show off his teeth like Jungkook was doing. It seemed a little awkward, maybe he wasn’t showing enough of the inside of his mouth, maybe he needed to make the smile even bigger. And so he did, putting his gums on full display for anyone to see.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell is that?” Jungkook exclaimed in terror upon seeing the goblin’s miserable attempt at smiling.

“Am I not performing it accordingly?” Yoongi questioned his teacher.

“If your a bloody psychopath, maybe”

“So I am doing it correctly?”

“No that’s not what I meant,” Jungkook said, a bit frustrated. “Maybe you should just stick to not smiling for now. You know, go for the whole dark and quiet mysterious guy type of thing instead. Girls dig that too.” Yoongi didn’t really need the humans to “dig” him. He just needed them to be able to share their emotions with him, but he did like the idea of doing it quietly. He wasn’t so sure about the mysterious part though.

“You just let me do the talking, okay?”

“Okay”

Yoongi barely got to respond, not that he had much to say anyways, before Jungkook was dragging him into the apartment complex where the party was taking place. Even though it was still early in the evening the small apartment was filled to the brim with intoxicated humans who all looked to be enjoying themselves, at least Yoongi thought so. He had observed that humans were a fairly social species and liked to be around each other, even though it meant being packed together in limited spaces like this. This fact was also a mystery for Yoongi, but then again solitude had for the most part of his long life been the only thing he had known.

“Taehyung!!” Jungkook shouted from across the room. “Over here!” Once Jungkook had caught the attention of the man he was calling, said man made it through the crowd of people to where they were standing.

“Hey, good to see you man” the guy said as he pulled Jungkook in for a half hearted side hug. “Who’s your friend?” The guy shifted his focus to Yoongi.

“This is my friend Yoongi,” Jungkook introduced. “He’s new in town. Hope it’s okay I brought him”

“As long as he doesn’t break anything” Taehyung said, a little tense and probably referring to some of the other party attendees. It seemed like Taehyung stock out of norm and didn’t enjoy a lot of other people in a small space.

“Don’t worry. Yoongi is cool” Jungkook answered for Yoongi.

“Well, drinks are in the kitchen. HEY!! What are you? A caveman?” Some guy had now caught Taehyung’s attention. “Use a fucking coaster!”

“Guess you have your hands full,” Jungkook laughed.

“You have no idea,” Taehyung sighed “I’m literally going to kill Jimin after I teach this guy some etiquette” and just like that Taehyung was back in the midst of people slowly disappearing “Come on guys! The table is antique”

[21:43]

Yoongi was sitting alone on the couch next to a couple that were too invested in each other to even notice he was there, while Jungkook had gone to the kitchen to get them something to drink. Yoongi thought his seat on the couch was a good spot for observing the humans and maybe even spot one he himself could kiss, but he found it hard to concentrate due to the couple making out, which kept catching his eye. Maybe this was actually a good opportunity for him to learn about the way humans do kissing. The male was seated on the couch while the female was on his lap with her hands around his neck. The male’s hands were all over her, one minute they were in her hair, the next on her bare thighs or waist. The way the couple kissed was a lot different from the way the TV couples Yoongi had watched as reference did. The couch couple were much more engaged and almost animalistic in their movements and sounds. Yoongi had thought that the kisses he had seen portrayed in dramas were probably pretty accurate, but now he wasn’t too sure. He decided that the couch couple next to him was probably a better representation since they were not actors in a role. The both of them did seem to be very skillful.

“Hey creep!” Jungkook shouted as he returned with a drink in each hand. “Don’t drool on the carpet”

“I wasn’t” Yoogi corrected him as he received one of the drinks from him.

“Then stop perverting on them”

“I was just observing them,” Yoongi told him.

“Is what a pervert would say,” Jungkook joked.

[22:00]

“What about her?” Jungkook pointed at the crowd filled with dancing bodies. “She’s hot”

“I don’t think she’s what I’m looking for” Yoongi dismissed Jungkook’s suggestion.

“Are you for real?” Jungkook exclaimed. “Just look at her,” Yoongi took a closer look at the woman Jungkook was talking about. “She is definitely feeling it.” The woman in question was dancing closely with another guy to the rhythm of the song and seemingly enjoying the way all eyes were on her.

And Yoongi too caught himself staring at her for a bit longer than he did the other humans around him. Could she maybe be the one to make him feel?

“And then he left me!” A loud female voice sobbed from across the room and managed to steal Yoongi’s gaze away from the woman dancing.

Even to Yoongi it was clear that the woman crying was extremely upset and therefore also extremely emotional, Yoongi thought.

“I have to go after him” she cried out to her friend who was trying to console her. She was headed towards the door, and Yoongi couldn’t let an opportunity like this slip through his finger, so without much thought he ran through the crowd determined not to lose sight of the crying girl. This resulted in him taking a few hits as he made his way through the sea of people, but because he was so focused on reaching the girl in time, he didn’t notice who he bummed into.

[22:40]

“Do you think she could have gone home?”

“I think that’s very likely,” Jungkook said. “We’ll probably have much better odds at finding another girl crying her eyes out in Tae’s bath room, besides it’s fucking freezing out here”

“You go in,” The older said. “I’m just gonna take a few more rounds around the block”

“Suit yourself, pal,” Jungkook gave Yoongi a pad on his shoulder before he began running towards the building entrance.

Yoongi then began walking again, looking at every bypasser to see if it was the one that he was looking for. He eventually made his way to a convenience store where a young couple were standing closely up against one another.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” the guy said. “I’ll never do it again”

“You promise?” the girl said with teary eyes.

“Yes, I promise” The two of them now began kissing as well, and this time it looked exactly like in the k-dramas. Once again Yoongi was left not knowing how this act between two people was supposed to be performed, but he knew that the girl had stopped crying and it would therefore no longer make sense for him to also lock lips with her.

Yoongi began heading back to the building where the party was, hobing it wasn’t too late for him to find a human to kiss. He was about to cross the road when he noticed a woman walking in his direction. It looked like she was coming right at him, and the closer she got to him, the more apparent the look in her eyes became, a look Yoongi had never seen displayed on any human before.

[17:05]

“Y/N!” The sudden knock on the bathroom door almost caused you to slip in the shower stall out of surprise. You had gone straight to Teahuyng’s apartment after class in order to help him get ready for the night, on the condition that you could shower at his place. “I need you to go to the store with Jimin.” Taehyung's voice came from the other side of the door. You turned off the water which you immediately regretted now that your body was missing the warm embrace it was providing.

“Jimin is a big boy. Why do I need to go with him?” You complained, wishing desperately that you could stay in the shower until you had used all of Taehyung’s hot water.

“Because we both know that this big boy will end up only buying booze and forget all the practical stuff,” Taehyung argued. “Oh and you have the best taste in snacks”

“Aghh fine,” you sighed in defeat. “Just give me 10 minutes and I’ll be out, okay”

[17:26]

Even though you had borrowed Taehyung’s sweats for your quick trip to the store, you still found yourself clinging to Jimin’s left arm in hopes of stealing some of his warmth.

“Why are you only clingy when you gain something from it?” Jimin said with annoyance as you still hung off of him as you entered the store.

“Survival of the fittest, baby” you sent him a teasing smile, which he returned with an eye roll and an attempt to push you off, but you were stubborn and stronger than you looked, and if Jimin didn’t wanted to cause a scene right in the middle of the supermarket, he would have to let you stay right where you were.

As expected Jimin steered the two of you in the direction off the alcohol aisle first thing. You didn’t have much say in which and the amount of bottles Jimin so carefully picked out from the shelves with his free hand.

“This should do it,” Jimin finally said proudly after almost 15 minutes of picking and choosing.

“You do know that Tae only agreed to a small gathering, right?” You asked your friend in disbelief.

“Yes, but what’s the fun in that?” he said with a mischievous grin growing on his face.

“He is going to kill you” you tried to warn him, but Jimin seemed to care more about making this night one to remember (or rather forget) than his potential murder.

You knew there was no point in trying to talk some sense into Jimin so you just shrugged your shoulders and said “Whatever. It’s your funeral”

Once you made your way to the snack aisle of the store, it was now your turn to be in charge of what needed to be selected, which by the way was just as important as the liquor. You knew that the difference between a good party and a great party was the snacks, no doubt about it, so you always took your time when deciding which ones would be the perfect choice for the maybe not so small celebration of Taehyung. Chips was always a safe choice, everyone likes them and they won't leave you full but they’ll still be satisfying nonetheless. Now what flavours to choose? You knew it was always a good idea to have something with a lot of salt, so the sea salt flavoured ones would be the smart choice to go with, but personally you found them so boring. Popcorn was a much better option for a salty snack.

“Jimin, can you grab the popcorn for me?” Jimin did as you commanded and threw the box into the already filled shopping cart. Okay, back to choosing chips flavours. Your personal favourite was sour cream & onion, though controversial, but you had to admit it was hard to find a good dip to go with it. Maybe you should just stick to the classic that was cheetos.

“What do you think? Sour cream & onion or cheetos?” You asked for guidance.

“Uhm Y/N…”

“You’re right. We should just take boht” you said and grabbed the two bags of chips with your left hand from the lower shelf.

“What? No that’s not it” Jimin stammered hesitantly. When you looked up and in the direction of Jimin’s gaze, you understood why. On their way into the aisle, was your fuck buddy, or ex fuck buddy, with his other fuck buddy turned girlfriend holding his hand. You immediately made eye contact with Johnny and suddenly became super aware of the way you were still clinging to Jimin’s side. You tried to distance yourself from him, but it was now Jimin’s turn to not let go of you.

“Hey guys” Jisoo said in a cheerful tone as she and Johnny made their way over to you and Jimin. “Wow That’s some party you’re throwing” she giggled as she noticed the interior of your shopping cart.

“Oh yeah” you said “Taehyung got an internship so we’re celebrating. You should come”

“No we wouldn’t want to tag along” Johnny said for the first time.

“It’s fine, you wouldn’t. Right Jimin?” you looked to your friend for back up.

“Uhm sure,” he said “The more, the merrier”

“Okay, see you there then” Johnny sent you one last awkward smile before he and Jisoo went back to their own shopping.

[17:45]

“Now why would you invite them?” Jimin asked in all seriousness once you left the store.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, trying to sound surprised by his question. “Johnny and Jisoo are cool, and I’m sure you’ve already invited a dosin of people”

“Yeah but they’re not my ex”

“Johnny is not my ex, though” you corrected him.

“You know what I mean,” Jimin said annoyed.

“So if you and I stop messing around, would you want me to not invite you to parties anymore?” you said teasingly.

“Shut up. You would miss me to much”

“In the bedroom or at the parties” you questioned him with a growing grin on your face.

“Both” he said confidently, and rightfully so. “But don’t you think it will be awkward?”

“It’s only awkward if we make it awkward” you told yourself.

“And you’re not the slightest bit jealous?”

“I’ve told you I’m not”

“You’re a fucking ice queen, you know that?” Jimin laughed at your seemingly lack of any human emotions.

“It’s one of my biggest virtues” you smiled at him.

“Except this ice queen is very bothered by the cold,” he joked before pulling you into his space again making sure you were warm.

[19:13]

“Is that what you’re wearing?” It slipped out of Taehyung when you stepped out of the bathroom where you had gotten ready. You looked down at the outfit you had brought with you from home and didn’t see why Taehyung would question it.

“Yeah, why? Anything wrong with it?” You asked.

“No, nothing wrong with it. It’s just a lot,” he clarified. “Or less, I guess” he grinned. You suppose he was right, but you had worn similar outfits in the past. The short skirt, showing of your legs and the skin tight top hugging your curves was nothing new.

“Yeah I know” you said “It’s kinda the whole point”

“Gonna show Johnny exactly what he’s missing” Jimin chimed in. Jimin wasn’t entirely wrong, but you were never going to admit that and it wasn’t like you had planned to run into him at the grocery store.

“No,” you said firmly “I picked this outfit out way before I knew Johnny was gonna be here”

“Johnny’s coming?” Taehyung asked with both a confused and concerned look on his face.

“And Jisoo,” Jimin said.

“Seriously!?” Taehyung whined “I told you guys not to invite friends”

“Whatever grandpa,” Jimin dismissed Taehyung’s words. “So tell me Y/N, if you’re not planning on making Johnny boy jealous, why the outfit then?”

“I always wear things like this” you tried to defend yourself.

“Yes, but not in the middle of winter, you don’t” Namjoon’s rational self joined the conversation that was unfolding. You were taken aback by Namjoon’s sharp optivational skills and searched your brain for a clever comeback or a perfectly rational reason for your decision to wear the revealing outfit, but nothing came to mind.

“I-l” you stammered “I don’t have to tell you anything” you said in defeat, knowing all too well that your friends would never let it go until you in fact told them.

“Let me guess then,” Jimin said with a devil-like expression on his face. “You plan to find Johnny’s replacement tonight” Fuck, you didn’t even realized that was what you were doing when you picked out what to wear. Why did Jimin have to know you better than you knew yourself at times?

Jimin took your silence as a sign that he had been right on the money. “Am I not enough for you?” he said, faux offended. “I’m hurt”

“Will you just shut up!” you exclaimed at his annoying teasing.

[21:26]

Hobi was a saint, that much you knew, and he had made it his life mission to make sure that you were okay, and tonight that meant never leaving your glass empty, especially everytime you would run into Johnny and Jisoo. Hobi would try to steer you in the opposite direction saying either you or he needed a refill. You appreciated your friend’s efforts to spare your feelings, but it really wasn’t necessary, you were fine. You had no reason to be anything but. You didn’t want what Johnny and Jisoo had, and you knew you could never give that to Johnny, so it was a good thing that they had found each other, you truly believed that. You tried to explain this to Hobi, but he still looked at you with pity in his eyes.

“Seriously Hobi, I’m fine” you reassured him “The only thing a feel is sorry for the poor guy trapped next to them on the couch as they make out” you sent Hobi the biggest smile you could plaster on your face to really convince him that everything was just fine. Hobi seemed to finally buy your words as he grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the living room that had become the unofficial dance floor. The amount of people in Taehyung’s small apartment made it difficult to fully unfold on the dancefloor, so you and Hobi opted for a more grinding close up at each other kind of dance.

This was nice, you had fun and was drunk off your ass, something you probably wouldn’t be able to do if you were in Jisoo’s position. You wondered if Jisoo would get jealous if she caught Johnny looking at you like this. You glanced over, and, wow, they were still going at it on the coach. Did they even care that there were others around them? Probably not. That was how it was to be in love. For a second you couldn’t help but think that it could have been you on Johnny’s lap if you had let him get close to you, blissfully unaware of your surroundings. It looked nice though, but no, that was not what you wanted. You liked your freedom and you liked simple, and one thing you knew was that once you gave that part of yourself, things stopped being simple. You liked how things were, and maybe you just needed someone new to remind you of that. That guy in the corner had been staring at you for a while now, not that you could blame him. You tried sneaking in a few glances at him to see if he was your type without being too obvious about it. You couldn’t get a proper look at him, but it didn’t really matter since he had this weird energy around him, which told you everything you needed to know about him.

“What are you doing?” Hobi had noticed the way your dancing now seemed a lot more calculated from only moments prior.

“7 o’clock” you whispered to him.

“What are you talking about?” Hobi asked over the music.

“The guy in the corn…” Wait where did he go? You looked around, your eyes searching through the room when your eyes landed on a moving silhouette who was charting towards you. Oh shit, he had finally gathered his courage and decided to come talk to you. “Okay stay calm,” you told yourself “you’re the ice queen, remember”. You straightened your back and pushed your chest slightly forward ready to show this guy exactly who he was up against.

“Hi, I-“ you were cut off before you could even get to the verb of your planned sentence. The guy had just walked straight past you, and bumping into your shoulder in the process. The fuck! Who did he think he was? Even if you had completely misinterpreted his intentions, the least he could do was apologize for the shoulder injury he had coursed in the collision.

“Man down. I repeat, man down” Jimin was dying of laughter because of the scene that had just unfolded in Taehyung’s living room. Seriously, why did Jimin’s annoying ass had to see you fail so miserably. You knew he would never let this go.

[22:56]

Upon your failure and the intense dancing session with Hoseok, you had lost most of your energy, and your feet and legs felt heavy. It seemed like Johnny and Jisoo had decided to move their make out session to somewhere more private since the couch was now all abbonned, and you saw a unique opportunity to get to sit down.

Like a sack of potatoes you fell into the soft cushions followed by Hobi, and for a brief moment you closed your eyes and leant back, but the moment soon passed as you could feel a pair of concerned eyes on your face. You forced your eyes to open again, and they of course were met with Hoseok’s.

“Are you okay?” he asked for the hundredth time that night.

“Yes, I just need to relax for a bit” you told him truthfully.

A cheeky smile appeared on your friend’s face “I might actually be able to help you with that” You looked at him with confusion painted on your face “Uhm okay that sounds kinda sketchy” Hoseok didn’t seemed to mind your weariness as he began to search the insides of his pockets.

“Tada!!” he cheered excitedly as he held out a neatly rolled blunt in front of your face. “This should do the trick”.

You didn’t normally smoke and the couple of times you had, it had been with Hobi. Both times you had been a giggling mess, which now that you thought about it wouldn’t be too bad. You could also need the relaxed and warm feeling you had experienced the other times you had gotten high.

“Fuck it,” You finally said. “You got a lighter?” But as Hobi fumbled after one, a dark looming figure appeared behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Shit! You jumped in your seat and nearly kicked over the bottles that were placed on the small coffee table.

“Uhm… N-nothing” you managed to stutter even though the evidence of what you were planning was still on full display in the palm of Hoseok’s hand.

“For fuck sake!” Taehyung exclaimed. “Do you want me to lose my depositum?”

“No,” Hoseok chimed in. “But don’t be such a party pooper. She needs this” The death glare Taehyung sent Hobi shut him up immediately.

“I’m so fucking stressed” he whined “But please just go outside” he almost pleaded. You would have felt sorry for him, but then you remembered he had made you go to the store with wet hair, something that was still causing you to shiver.

“But Tete it’s freezing outside” You tried to convince him, but there was no use in trying as he coldly responded with a “Not my problem.” And that was how you found yourself outside on the sidewalk in your miniskirt in the middle of winter trying to get high. Your hands were shaking as you tried to guide the blunt to your lips, which made it way more difficult than it needed to be. This made Hobi, who had just passed it to you, laugh uncontrollably. You found yourself starting to laugh along with him since it kinda dawned on you how ridiculous this whole situation was and how much of a fool you had made of yourself in the span of this night.

“What are you two maniacs laughing at?” Jimin and Namjoon had gone outside as well to get some fresh air, Jimin with some drunk girl under his arm and Namjoon with his red solo cup in hand.

“Y/N she’s,” Hobi said between giggles. “She’s fucking saking”

“Facts!” You yelled.

“You really should have worn something else” Mr. Know-it-all-Namjoon said.

“I know, I know, I’m a dumbass” you admitted.

“Yes you fucking are,” Jimin said “Want to borrow my jacket?” You looked him up and down before making eye contact.

“Won’t your friend be cold?” You referred to the girl haning to his side.

“Mhm…” He looked down at the girl. “You cold, baby girl?”

“No, daddy” she said with a sweet voice, and you couldn’t help but blur out a “Ew” upon hearing her nickname for Jimin.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Jimin teased. “And I bet it’s not entirely because of the cold” You knew he was referring to your brutal rejection in the living room.

“Listen the guy was in a hurry, okay,” you began to defend yourself. “If he wasn’t, he would have been all over me”

“You sure about that?” Hoseok annoyingly joined the conversation.

“Yes, not that it matters anyways. He was fucking rude. Lucky he got away before I could give him a piece of my mind.” You said seriously.

“Guess it’s your lucky day, then” Namjoon said and pointed to somewhere across the streets, and everybody’s heads turned to see what he had meant by his statement. You squeezed your eyes trying to see more clearly who it was standing alone on the other side of the street across from you. Something about the unidentified silhouette somehow drew you in, like a special energy. Wait a minute, it was him! The guy from earlier. Seriously, what were the changes?

“Now’s your chance,” Jimin dared you. Why did he have to know exactly how to get under your skin. You couldn’t stand to lose face once more that evening, so before you knew it you were crossing the street. And to be honest you were ready to go tell this guy exactly who he had been oh so rude to. On your way over you were gearing yourself up and practically fuming when you finally reached your destination, but that all disappeared once you found yourself standing face to face with the stranger and all the things you had planned to say in your head was completely gone the second the stranger had captured you with his gaze. He didn’t say or do anything, just looked at you, awaiting your first move.

“I-I uhm.. You” you stuttered trying to go somewhere with your words, but the man in front of you didn’t let you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked abruptly which caught you off guard.

“What?” Were you hearing this correctly or were you just hearing what you wanted to hear.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked nonchalantly. Was he really being serious, or was he just being a jerk like earlier? Your better judgement told you it was the latter, but you still found your body leaning in closer and closer to the man.

“Okay” you agreed mindlessly as you closed the gap between the two if you as he placed his hand on your cheek and began to move his lips gently over yours. As he did so, you were passively taking everything in, enjoying being kissed on the sidewalk on a winter's night by a stranger who seemed to know exactly how to use his lips. You rested your own hands on his slim waist, slightly tugging at his jacket, while you began to reciprocate his kiss. He tasted so deliciously, it made your head spin, and before you knew it you were eagerly kissing him back with everything you got. His lips parted ever so slightly and you felt both greedy and bold, and seized the opportunity to sneak your tongue passed his lips. He followed your lead perfectly as both of your tongues entangled themselves with one another. The contact with his tongue send a shiver down your spine nonetheless, but weirdly enough ever since you had entered his space, you had stopped shivering from the cold, a first for the night, and now the only thing that made you shiver was the warm bubbly feeling you felt inside every time his tongue would grace yours, making you muffle soft moans against his mouth. His kiss was intoxicating and addictive, and you just couldn’t get enough of it, and to your surprise, you were so desperate for more, but somehow you didn’t care to try and hide the fact. For some reason he had this power over him that made you lose all senses and better judgement.

The kiss was getting sloppier now as you found it hard to control yourself with him, but when he put his hand on your hip, you almost lost it completely as your skin was practically burning under his touch. Who was this guy, seriously? And why did he have the ability to get you this rilled up merely from just kissing? You didn’t care enough to break from his lips to ask, you just drank in every last bit of him, dreading the moment you would have to let go of him. He must be some kind of god of kissing to have you feel this way, since kissing was normally your least favourite part. It was more times than not just something to get out of the way before moving on to something more daring. This was so unlike you.

In a perfect world you wouldn’t have to let go of him, but you had to break from his lips to catch your breath, and as you pulled away from each other a string of saliva was still connecting you. Neither of you said anything, and Yoongi was looking at you like he was trying to solve a code. All of a sudden you felt shy under his intense stare as if you hadn’t just sucked his face.

Yoongi was the first one to break the silence. “Nothing,” he blurted out.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked.

“I felt nothing,” he sounded disappointed. ”Just now”. And just like that you were back to being cold.

You opened your mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out, and much to your surprise he stripped himself of his jacket and placed it over your shoulders. “Here, this is better” he said matter of factly before he turned on his heel and started walking away without another word, leaving you dumbfounded. You would probably have stood like that until the sun came up if you hadn’t been pulled back to reality by the sound of your long forgotten friend’s laughter from across the street. This was really a miserable ending to a just as miserable evening.

Taglist:

@strawberriewithchocolate-blog @salad-bar-but-with-more-options @sugaaddiction @min-yus @tonightletspretend @preciouschimine @ggukkieland @peterparkerspjsuit @simpinforyoongi @loveyoongles @kevinssecretplace4546

[jaskierswolf]

I’ve got a prompt for you! 💜

Ok, I have no idea why I got this idea just now but it opposed into my head and you’re my fave for Modern AUs so I’m passing it onto you! So like modern college au ski trip where Jaskier twists his ankle on the slopes and has to stay behind while everyone else does a moonlight hike or something. Geralt also stays behind and we get some fireside cuddling. Maybe Lam, Eskel, Aiden, and Coen are there to tease or ship it or something when everyone gets back ☺️ Unsure if it’s happening in a cabin or hotel/resort lobby. But yeah. I’m placing it at your feet, do with it what you will 🤗

(geraskier-trashh)

I’m sorry this took so long!! But here you go my darling!!

Ships: Geraskier and Lambden. Also on AO3

Warnings: Minor injury, and sexual references. _______

Geralt was pacing in the lobby of their hotel. It was nearly half past five and Jaskier should have been back by now. They were in different groups for their ski lessons, Geralt being a more advanced skier than his friend. All the other ski school groups has returned over an hour ago. Only Aiden and Jaskier remained uncounted for. The sun had crept behind the snowy peaks of the surrounding mountains. The ski lift had stopped working and yet there was still no sign of Jaskier and Aiden.

Lambert was lounged out on one of the sofas by the bar, tossing a stress ball into the air and catching it again in a never-ending rhythm. “Relax.” Lambert sighed. “They’ll be fine. They probably just decided to après-ski”

Geralt growled at his brother. “No, not tonight. Jask knows that we’re night skiing tonight. He hasn’t shut up about it all week. He’s been looking forward to skiing to together for a change.”

Lambert snorted. “Don’t know why you’re letting him. He’ll slow you down.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “And you’re willingly skiing with a snowboarder.”

Aiden was learning to ski in Jaskier’s intermediate group after lunch but Lambert’s boyfriend’s real skill lay with the snowboard. He tore up the slope when he was on his board and spent most of morning in the snow parks doing tricks and flips off the jumps and rails that could be found there.

Lambert grinned dopily. “The things we do for love, white wolf.”

“How come you aren’t more worried? Your boyfriend is missing too.”

Lambert shrugged and ran a hand through the thick red curls on his head. “Ski school said all the groups were back. You know what Aiden and Jaskier are like when they’re together. I’m surprised they’ve not been arrested yet. Our boyfriends are terrible for each other.”

“Not my boyfriend.” Geralt sighed. No matter how many times Geralt said it, Lambert still insisted on calling Jaskier his boyfriend.

“Their phones probably died.” Lambert suggested, completely ignoring Geralt’s protest.

Geralt shook his head. “Jaskier would never let that happen, besides he has a portable charger.”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “They’ll be fine, Geralt.”

Geralt continued his pacing in the lobby and Lambert restarted his game of catch. The thud of the ball landing in his hand was driving Geralt mad. Every catch was a second passed that Jaskier hadn’t returned. He was having visions of the pair of them being lost off the side of the mountain. The idiots had probably decided to take the lift back up without their instructor and gotten injured as a result. Not even the picturesque hotel could calm his nerves. It was warm and bathed in a soft yellow glow. There were paintings of the ski resort hung on the walls. Some of the paintings showed the resort as Geralt knew it, but there were several of the mountains with luscious green grass. Edelweiss flowers were often found engraved into the wooden frames. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, the warm scent of hot spiced wine filled his nose but it wasn’t enough. He needed the startling blue of Jaskier’s eyes and his gentle chamomile perfume.

The hotel was gorgeous and it was expensive, too expensive but Jaskier’s parents had insisted that Jaskier and his friends had needed a break. The trip had been paid for in full before any of them could protest the cost. The gang insisted on paying for their own drinks though. They refused to let Jaskier’s parents, no matter how rich they were, foot the bill on that one. The hotel overlooked the main slope, a blue run that ran all the way into the village, ending by the bubble lift and a collection of ski rental shops and bars. The best bar for après-ski though was half way up the mountain. Everyone knew that. From their hotel they could often see the drunk skiers and boarders trying to make their way down the hill, at least they could when they weren’t amongst them. Geralt always tried to remain alert enough that he could help Jaskier down. His friend always seemed to forget the steep hill that lay between them and their beds. If it was too bad they would take the snowmobile shuttle back down but Jaskier called him a party pooper when they tried.

From their hotel they could ski in and out of the boot room. It was a luxury Geralt had never known in all his years. He was used to trekking through the snowy villages with his skis on his back, and Jaskier’s too in recent years. The brunet would always whine and pout until Geralt helped to carry his skis. He didn’t mind, not really.

The doors opened letting in an icy breeze. Geralt’s eyes snapped up and the noise of Lambert’s stress ball stopped, bouncing across the tiled floor. Geralt heard the shuffle of fabric but he didn’t look round. Aiden was half carrying a limping Jaskier through the door. Jaskier’s arm was around Aiden’s neck and he had his ski poles in his other hand as a support. Geralt rushed over to help.

“Jaskier!” He growled. “What the fuck happened?”

“We went shopping after skiing. I thought I would be able to buy that painting of the horses you like… as a gift.” Jaskier whined. “But I slipped on some bloody ice. I sprained my ankle. It fucking hurts.”

“Nothing’s broken.” Aiden noted, his soft french accent coming through more strongly like it always did when he got emotional. “We’ve just got back from the hospital.”

Geralt was furious. They’d been all the way to the fucking hospital and no one had said a bloody word.

“Now before you say anything, wolf.” Aiden said sharply. “He landed on his phone and it broke.”

“And yours?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lambert snorted. “As if he charged it last night. He’s a fucking nightmare.” Lambert patted Geralt on the shoulder and then wrapped his arms around Aiden’s waist, burying his face into the snowboarder’s neck. “Hey kitten.”

Geralt hummed and he scooped Jaskier up into his arms. His ankle was clearly hurting him and it would help to take the pressure off of it. Geralt watched his brother for a few seconds, noting the way he melted into Aiden’s embrace, and felt bad. Lambert had been worried…. very worried. He’d just hidden that from Geralt because Geralt had been a fucking mess.

And Jaskier was only his friend.

Friend.

The word felt bitter on his tongue.

How long had it been since he’d thought of Jaskier as a friend? He’d been completely gone on the man for at least a few years now. It had been a completely daft revelation. Jaskier hadn’t been doing anything special or even particularly charming at the time. He’d been asleep on Geralt’s bed after Geralt had gotten back from a pub night with his brothers. The brunet had been drooling all over Geralt’s pillows and wearing one of his shirts as he sprawled like a starfish over the bed, and he’d been snoring.

Geralt had watched his friend sleep for a few minutes before he’d realised the snoring wasn’t even irritating, hell he even found it… cute?

And with that the epiphany had hit him like a truck. He was in love with his best friend.

He’d grabbed a spare pair of boxers from his drawers and gone to sleep in Jaskier’s room. It had taken all his self control not to slid into the single bed next to Jaskier.

He’d been in love with him ever since and stoically ignoring it the best he could. Jaskier was very open in his feelings. If he loved Geralt then Geralt would know. His friend wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Are you alright?” He murmured as he carried Jaskier over to the sofas by the large open fireplace in the lounge area.

Jaskier’s arms were wrapped around his neck and Jaskier snuggled up against his chest. It hurt in some ways. It could be so easily interpreted as something more than it was. Geralt wouldn’t change it for the world. As much as he wished for more, he lived for the calm moments of intimacy that fell between them.

“Yeah.” Jaskier mumbled, his face red from the cold. “It’s sore but I’ll live.”

“You won’t be able to ski tonight.”

Jaskier pouted and groaned. “Geralt! We never get to ski together.”

Geralt chuckled and dumped Jaskier onto the sofa before sliding down next to him. Jaskier shrugged out of his bulky teal ski coat and pulled his snood over his head. His hair messed up completely but Geralt thought it looked endearing. Jaskier dropped the layers on the floor before curling up against Geralt’s chest.

“If it’s alright by the morning then we’ll skip ski school.” He suggested.

“Hmmph.”

“That’s a whole day together.” Geralt draped his arm around Jaskier and pulled him closer.

“It’s more romantic at night.” Jaskier sighed.

Geralt’s heart stammered in his chest and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. “Romantic?”

“I meant… fuck.” Jaskier tried to shuffle away but Geralt grabbed his arm and then brought his hand up to Jaskier’s cheek.

“Romantic?” He asked again, his voice low and unsure in his words.

“Ah well. Freudian slip.” Jaskier bit his lip and his soft blue eyes were looking everywhere except at Geralt.

“Jaskier.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did. Did you want it to be…”

“Yes.” Jaskier answered too quickly. “Of course I do. The whole world knows that, Geralt.” He covered Geralt’s hand with his own and his cheek pressed into Geralt’s palm. “But I know you don’t and that’s alright, dear friend.”

“I don’t?” Geralt asked with a smirk.

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t… Do you?”

Geralt tilted his head and brushed his thumb along Jaskier’s cheek. “I. I do yeah.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. His face flushed even darker than before. Geralt usually would have said the soft glow of the fire was to blame but he was starting to wonder.

“This could. Well, I mean.” Jaskier gestured to the fireplace. “This could also be… romantic?”

Geralt let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against Jaskier’s, his eyes shutting on their own accord. “Yeah?”

“Hmm.” Jaskier agreed and Geralt could feel his warm breath against his skin.

“Careful. “ He murmured. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

“God forbid.” Jaskier laughed and captured Geralt’s lips in a kiss.

Geralt hummed against Jaskier’s lips, still cold from the icy weather outside. Jaskier’s hands slid into Geralt’s hair and Geralt couldn’t resist pushing Jaskier down onto the sofa so his back hit the soft cushions. His lips brushed from Jaskier’s lips along his jaw and he nipped at the soft skin of his swanlike neck.

“Geralt…” Jaskier gasped quietly and a hand squeezed his arse.

Geralt gave a low growled before sucking hard at the pale skin under his lips, biting gently until a dark bruise began to form. Once he was satisfied by the mark he kissed the tender skin before pressing their lips together once more. Jaskier moaned into the kiss and one of his legs wrapped around Geralt’s arse.

“Oi!”

They broke apart, panting and red faced. Jaskier groaned and buried his face against Geralt’s shoulder. “Fuck.” He muttered.

Geralt smirked at Lambert, not caring that they’d been caught. He was too happy to care. “Brother.”

“You have a room.” Lambert snapped. “Use it.”

“Darling, it’s young love. Be nice.” Aiden purred and pressed a kiss to Lambert’s cheek. “We were going to see if you were still coming out skiing tonight but I see you’ve finally got your head out of your arse instead. Have fun boys, be safe. Don’t do anything I would do.”

Geralt laughed. “Isn’t that supposed to be don’t do what you wouldn’t do?”

Aiden winked. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do, white wolf.”

Jaskier finally emerged from Geralt’s shoulder and held his hand out. Aiden high-fived it with a smirk before Lambert dragged his boyfriend away towards the stairs. “We need to get ready kitten.”

“But darling.” Aiden said loudly, making sure everyone in the lobby could hear. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you out of those clothes.”

“Fuck.” Lambert cursed. “Little shit, upstairs.”

“You love me!”

“Fuck knows why. Come on.” Lambert gave him a shove up the stairs.

“Stop acting like you’re the one in charge, wolf.” Aiden sang sweetly. “Everyone knows how much you like to beg for—”

Aiden’s words were cut off by Lambert’s hand over his mouth.

Geralt grinned before turning back to Jaskier. He gently brushed Jaskier’s hair out of his eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “You wanna take this upstairs?” He asked gently.

To his surprise Jaskier shook his head. “Not yet.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am very interested in continuing this upstairs.” Jaskier gently thrust his hips up to make his point. Geralt groaned softly as he felt Jaskier’s erection rub against his. “But I’d like to enjoy the fire a little longer first. It really is rather romantic. A warm fireplace in an alpine hotel with snowy mountains outside.”

“Romantic bastard.” Geralt laughed and bumped their noses together gently.

“Yes, but I am your romantic bastard.” Jaskier paused and licked his lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Geralt sat up, his legs straddling Jaskier’s waist. He rested his hands on Jaskier’s chest. “Mine.” He said softly. “And I’m yours, if you’ll have me?”

Jaskier laughed, his blues eyes crinkling in the corners and Geralt’s heart felt warmer at the sound his melodic laugh. “Of course I’ll have you, you daft idiot.”

Geralt grinned and leant back down to rest his head on Jaskier’s chest. “Hmm.” He replied, hoping Jaskier would understand his words. If anyone could translate then it would be Jaskier, but he was suddenly feeling almost overwhelmed by the emotions in his chest, the happiness. Words just didn’t seem like enough.

Jaskier’s fingers gently combed through his hair and he let his eyes close as he focused on the steady flutter of Jaskier’s heartbeat. “I love you too.” Jaskier murmured. Geralt smiled against Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier heartbeat raced a little faster.

“Mine.” Geralt repeated in a whisper.

“Yours.” Jaskier agreed. __________

Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @awitchersbard  @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @caspertheassholeghost @feraljaskier 

[caught-in-the-filter]

Smutty CS notion: sweet duckling Princess Emma stumbles on Dark Hook and is too intrigued for her own good...there are some things she just won’t tell Queen Snow 😉

Chasing a Shadow (Chasing a High) - Chapter 1

A/N:Thank you so much for the prompt @karlyfr13s! There is never enough Dark Hook Duckling. 😏 I hope you like it! 😘❤️ Huge thank you to @veryverynotgoodwrites for beta-ing and being awesome. ❤️ And thank you to everyone on the CSMM Discord for all your support! ❤️

Rated: E; Words (Ch1): 3856; AO3 tumblr.: Ch1, Ch2

——

Emma knew how to handle herself. As the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, who’d since become the ruling queen and king, she’d been well-trained in several ways by which to defend herself and protect the citizens of their kingdom. She could use a bow and arrow, was very skilled with a sword, and knew how to travel amongst others undetected. Whenever she’d asked to venture into the town, her parents were usually agreeable to it.

They didn’t know, however, about the dark figure in whom she’d taken an interest on her last few visits. Curiosity bubbled inside her while she watched him from afar as he swiftly moved through the crowd, the hood of his cloak concealing his face as he rounded a corner and vanished from her sight.

It became a little game she played with herself—finding him, trying to catch a glimpse of the man beneath the shadows, almost copying his swagger as she followed him. She wanted to know where he disappeared to every day as the sun set.

Her desire for answers made her bolder than she’d ever been, determination fueling her next moves.

Emma tracked the mysterious figure to a seedy street a few towns over, sparsely lined with lamps which mostly remained unlit as the day gave way to nightfall, and she found herself squinting in the darkness as she lost sight of the man again.

“A bit far from home, aren’t we, lass?”

Emma jumped at the sound of the sultry voice and turned to face its source. Her eyes widened as she got a good look at the cloaked man for the first time. Dark wisps of hair covered his forehead, and matching scruff decorated his chin, with equally dark kohl setting off his deep blue eyes and making them look that much more wild. An intriguing scar had long since healed on his cheek, and despite it, she couldn’t explain the sudden ache she felt as she scanned his features. He was rather attractive, she had to admit, save for the threat of the sharp metal hook whose tip he held at her throat as he backed her to a wall, the sudden contact of cold stone taking her by surprise. (In all honesty, though, that intrigued her too, the moonlight dancing across its surface as it sent a chill of some sort coursing through her.)

“What is it, love?” he sneered. “Are you here to make a deal or to try to kill me?” He glanced down at her scabbard and loosened it with his hand, shoving it to the ground with a clatter. “Either way, you’re in so far over your head.”

“Please,” Emma croaked, her throat suddenly dry, though from what she wasn’t quite sure. It wasn’t exactly fear, she knew that much. “Neither. I just—”

“Ahh,” he gave her a devilish grin, “or perhaps you’re after something else entirely.” His hand snuck beneath her bodice and seared her skin as he slid it up her side. “Does the thought of the big, bad Dark One turn you on?” He leaned the curve of his hook against the wall over her shoulder and hovered his face just above where it had been, inhaling sharply along her neck and humming against the shell of her ear, making her legs tremble beneath her as they suddenly grew weak. “Ohh, you don’t know what you’ve just gotten yourself into, then,” he growled, “Princess.”

The Dark One?!

“W-wait—” she pleaded because she knew she should. Panted, really. He already had her breathless as his mouth explored what little skin was left exposed by her modest outfit, while his hand found her laces and worked to reveal more of it to him. “I didn’t know….” She’d heard stories of the Dark One that had made her blood run cold, and she knew the danger he presented.

But the man in front of her didn’t quite fit the description that had been passed along in fairy tales, and all she felt now was heat, pooling low in her belly and blossoming on her cheeks and curling her toes.

“You know who I am?” she questioned, not that her identity was exactly a secret, but she thought she’d done well to evade his observation, though she guessed her current circumstances proved otherwise.

“Aye. Why do you think I led you all this way?” he asked, rucking up her skirts as his fingers brushed the back of her knee, encouraging her to lock her leg behind him as he lifted it and caressed her thigh. “I couldn’t very well take you in the middle of your own town for everyone you know to witness.” His eyebrow raised as he added cheekily, “Unless, of course, you’d like that too.”

“I wouldn’t,” she replied quickly, unamused by his soft chuckle.

“But you’d like me to take you here?” he teased, not waiting for an answer. She gasped into his mouth as he slanted it against hers, his tongue inviting itself between her lips and she found it not unwelcome as it drew forth a moan from deep within her in tandem with his thigh as he nudged her legs further apart and nestled it between them. Without a second thought, she rocked her hips, seeking a friction she didn’t know she needed until each pass both soothed and spurred the throbbing she felt in her core.

“Tell me what you desire, Princess,” he coaxed, breath hot over her lips. “I know you’ve been following me for some time. Tell me what you’ve come to crave, and I shall make it happen.”

“And what would I owe in return?” Emma knew any interaction with the Dark One would have unintended consequences.

“For you, love, I’d make an exception. Consider it my patronage to the crown,” he said with a flourishing bow while keeping his thigh pressed between hers. The timbre of his voice dropped much lower as he pressed his forehead to hers and purred, “With or without magic, you’ll come with no price, I assure you.”

Emma knew it was a bad idea, tried to convince herself to push him away, but her hands and hormones betrayed her mind as she pulled him closer, one hand anchored in his hair while the other splayed against his back and travelled lower to grip his ass with a confident playfulness neither of them had expected. She felt the hard bulge rubbing her thigh through his trousers as she continued to ride his leg and cursed without realizing what she was saying.

“My, what a crude vocabulary for a princess,” the Dark One commented, slowly sliding his hand toward the apex of her thighs. “Beneath the yards of intricate fabric, you’re still just a needy little wench, aren’t you?” He sent a jolt along her spine as his fingers passed through her folds and eased between them, working her more gently than his reputation would’ve led her to expect. “You put on airs of piety, in your castle with your guard and your formal address, but your slickness reveals the truth of your primal desire.” He pressed them deeper inside her, adding another and curling them towards himself, and she arched into his touch with a whimper and another string of curses when he continued to repeat the motion. “That’s it, darling. Fuck yourself with my hand. Show me just how desperate you are for me.”

Emma furrowed her brow at his words, unsure of when he’d stilled his hand and let her take over the pace. Her rhythm faltered, and she canted her hips in protest as he removed his hand from her core, only to watch in stunned amazement as he licked her arousal from his fingers one by one, his talented tongue determined to catch every drop.

“Your taste is exquisite, Princess,” he said. “It’s no wonder you stay locked away at most times. If they only knew what they were missing, you’d never be without a caller begging for even the smallest sample of your irresistible sweetness.”

Emma stuttered over unintelligible syllables, biting back words she hadn’t expected to want to say, a vulgar question nagging to be spoken that she wouldn’t dare to voice.

“Yes, love?” The Dark One pressed his chest flush against her, staring into her eyes, his mouth a hair’s breadth away from hers.

“I, umm—” Emma hesitated. The Dark One simply smiled, waiting.

“You’re a bit of an open book, Princess,” he said. “I can read your thoughts, but to get what you want, I need you to say it.”

Not one to back down from a challenge, Emma worked up the courage to ask, “Would—would you like to taste it directly?”

He raised his eyebrow and hummed his assent, his voice a low rumble in his chest as he prodded, “Is that what you would like, love?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then tell me.”

“I want your mouth on me, Dark One,” she pleaded. “I want to feel your tongue inside me.”

“Mmmm, with pleasure,” he growled as he sank to his knees in front of her and ducked beneath her skirts.

The sinful cry that left her lips echoed down the empty street as he made contact with her wet and aching flesh, and Emma was sure someone would hear it and the equally loud moans that followed. Her legs wanted to cave beneath her, instinctively pulling together and pressing tightly around his cheeks as he devoured her, the brush of his scruff burning her skin in the best way. He chuckled without pausing his ministrations and held her thighs apart with the palm of his hand warming one and the flat of his hook cooling the other. She squirmed at the conflicting temperatures, or more likely at the way he licked and sucked in the space between them.

“Still with me, Princess?” he mumbled into her core, muffled by the layers of fabric cinched at her waist that shrouded him. Bracing herself with her arms against the wall, her fingertips dug into the gaps between the stones as he scraped his teeth against her clit and nipped at her sensitive flesh, his tongue plunging inside her as he drank in her arousal.

“Mmhmm,” she sighed unconvincingly, rolling her hips as she chased her high. A building tension overwhelmed her as the Dark One nosed at the swollen bundle of nerves while his tongue relentlessly found a spot that his fingers had only teased. “Oh gods,” she panted, her knuckles turning white as she heavily relied on the wall to keep her upright, losing the support of his hand and hook as they met his mouth in the middle to bring her to the edge.

“You flatter me,” he muttered, the joke lost on her as her head spun dizzily and fell back against the stone, her eyes fluttering closed while her hips bucked into his encouraging grunts as she came hard on his tongue.

The Dark One did well to catch as much of it as he could, opening his mouth beneath her as he thrust his fingers inside her with purpose and let her release pour into it, licking along her folds and sucking on her clit until she at last relaxed into the wall behind her. He lifted her skirts and stood before her once more, looking absolutely wrecked and feral, his chin glistening with her wetness below swollen lips, his hair mussed from static and sweat, his pupils blown wide with a greater hunger they’d yet to sate.

“I so wanted to make you wait for it,” he growled, chest heaving, “to make you wait for your release until I had you on my cock, but you were just too tempting, my dear. I had to taste all of you.”

Emma’s hands reached up to attempt to tame the haphazard locks atop his head but only served to add to the chaos as she clenched fistfuls of it instead when his lips collided with her own. She melted at the heady taste of herself on him and welcomed his full perusal of her mouth. The Dark One moaned eagerly as his tongue teased hers as it had her core, and Emma boldly took his bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled back for just a moment before she rose on her toes to meet him again.

“That’s it, Princess,” he said as they breathed together. “Take what you want.” He nosed along her jaw, nipping at the path until he bit her earlobe. His hook caught on her neckline and he tugged it down, down until he freed her breasts. The cool night air rushed across her newly exposed skin, teasing her nipples until he harshly palmed one breast and thumbed at the stiffening peak as he asked, “What do you want?”

“I want—” she could barely breathe, let alone think enough to speak. But then, she really didn’t need to think at all, only feel, to feel something more and then keep feeling it until she crashed all over again. “I want your cock, Dark One. Give me your cock.”

“Good girl,” he purred into her ear as he unlaced his trousers and lifted her skirts in the crook of his hook. His hand departed from her breast only long enough to align himself with her entrance and press inside with one steady roll of his hips as his teeth sank into her shoulder.

Emma cried out at the pleasurable pain of his bite and the stretch of his cock, clutching at his back for any sort of hold, finding purchase in the material of his cloak.

The Dark One’s fingers returned to their task of kneading her flesh as his tongue worked to soothe the purpling spot onto which his mouth had latched, and he began to move inside her with deep thrusts that left her almost empty before filling her completely each time.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he praised. “Tight and wet and fucking perfect. All for me.”

The small, encouraging sounds she made with every slide echoed the muted slap of his balls against her wet skin, the Dark One’s hungry moans finding their own sort of syncopated rhythm as he kissed along her collarbone and licked at the hollow of her throat before meeting her mouth again.

“Oh, how I’d love to taste every inch of you,” the Dark One groaned against her lips, “to watch your body quiver as I run my tongue all over your skin.” He dipped his head to trail his breath down her chest and suck at her nipple before releasing it with a soft pop. “But alas, we’ve not the time nor is it the place, and there’s a much more pressing matter for us both.”

Emma felt that tension building inside herself again as he devoured her mouth once more, massaged her breasts relentlessly, and slammed into her aching core. His words affected her more than she thought they could, and she writhed against the wall as she moved with him in an effort to bring them both to completion. She could tell he felt it too as the cords in his neck tensed and the force of his hips increased.

“Where do you want it, love?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper this time as the words caught in his throat.

“Ins—inside me,” she choked between whimpers. “I want to feel it inside me, Dark One. Please come inside me.”

“Fuck, Princess, you are a naughty minx.” His thrusts grew rougher, more frantic as he began to lose the last of his resolve. “As you wish, my darling.”

While she thought he was already as impossibly deep as he could go, the Dark One adjusted his angle so that his legs would give him a stronger foundation as he pistoned his hips with abandon. The change sent her reeling, and she struggled to hold on as the corners of her vision blurred from his merciless snaps.

“Are you with me, Princess?” He breathed.

“Mmhmm,” Emma answered as before, though she knew it wasn’t quite true. Her mind travelled to the edge of another blissful plane, and her body was kept from physically falling only by his pinning hers to the wall.

“No, I mean, are you with me, love?” the Dark One clarified. “I’m so fucking close, sweetheart. Are you with me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good.” His hand slid its way up to her throat, taking a loose but firm hold. This time Emma did feel just a touch of fear, wondering how far the darkness would go to get him where he wanted to be, but it soon turned to further desire as the Dark One only tightened his grip enough to make her gasp as she relaxed in a mildly lightheaded haze. “Come for me, Princess. Come right on my cock as I fill you with my seed, you naughty thing.”

It did something to her, the way he continually mixed formalities with such vulgarity in equally sultry tones and with an eloquence that made her wonder for a brief moment why there would be any other way to speak when his speech alone could make her feel so good.

Emma’s legs began to quake beneath her when he passed the curve of his hook over her clit in deliberate circles and reminded her that she didn’t have to rely on just his voice to find her release, for which she was most grateful.

The Dark One stifled their moans of pleasure with a passionate kiss, plunging his tongue as deep as his cock as his hips stuttered and stilled and he spilled himself inside her. Their chests heaved as they rested their foreheads together and panted over each other’s lips, attempting to catch their breaths and waiting for their limbs to feel solidified again before daring to move.

“That was wonderful, darling. And I’ll be expecting some… other reciprocation with this pretty little mouth of yours next time,” the Dark One smirked. With a snap of his fingers, he righted himself, leaving her already missing the feel of his cock as his trousers laced themselves.

“Next time? I thought you said I’d come at no price,” she teased, wrapping her fingers around his hook and running them back and forth along the curve.

“That I did. And I didn’t lie, you’ve nothing to repay me.” He took the time to manually fix her bodice, every brush of his fingers lighting little fires across her skin, his effort with the ties as hot as the rest of their prior interactions. “But you withheld the truth from me of just how good of a fuck you are, Princess. You can’t honestly say this was a one-time thing.”

Emma hummed and placed her other hand on his chest as she challenged, “And what if I do?”

“Then I’d hope you’d kindly get on your knees for me right now, and I would assure you that whatever ungodly hour you arrive home will have been worth it.”

Emma’s gaze flicked from his eyes to his mouth and back as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“As tempting as that sounds,” she said with a smile, genuinely interested in finding out how he tastes and curious to see just how weak she could make the all-powerful Dark One in the process. But she knew she shouldn’t have gone this far to begin with, and fearing the consequences of further pursuit of whatever this was with him, she responded, “I need to get back before my extended absence is noticed, unless you want to deal with the army of guards my parents would send after you if they somehow found out you’ve ‘ruined’ me.”

“‘Ruined’ you?” His eyebrow raised as he scoffed, “Oh love, your innocence was clearly gone long before tonight. We both know you knew what you were after when you followed me here, and you certainly knew what you were doing when you got it.” His voice became darker, almost threatening when he added, “And I can handle the guards.”

“We might know that, but they sure as hell don’t, and I intend to keep it that way.” Emma sighed. “And I know you can handle them, that’s what I’m afraid of. It’s not for your sake but for theirs.” That earned a sarcastically begrudging eye roll from him.

Emma ducked and slipped away from him, picking up her scabbard as she did, and he spun on his heel as he watched her slowly step backward, beyond his reach.

“Goodbye, Dark One,” she said.

“I’m not unwilling to fight for what I want. Don’t think I’m letting you go this easily.”

“I would despair if you did.” Emma took another backward step before turning and taking off in the direction of her castle.

“Goodbye, Princess,” the Dark One called after her, or thought he called, his voice softer than he’d realized or intended as he watched her leave and got lost in the thought of his release still inside her.

It was all Emma could think about too, knowing it was driving him just as mad and grinning to herself at the fact that she could get to him. She could feel the way it dripped down her thighs as she moved. She could feel the way it dried sticky on her skin as she allowed it to remain there longer than she probably should have.

And she could feel it later as she further explored herself when she finally reunited with her bed and imagined what else he might do to her if given the chance, and what she could do to him, the scent of his pleasure mixing with that of her own arousal as they blended on her desperate fingers, which would have to suffice until she could find him again. She bit back moans and struggled to refrain from calling out his infamous moniker as her head fell back with the fresh memory of his mouth on her neck and the promise that she would feel it everywhere else.

Oh yes. Yes.

Yes, she would absolutely have to see him again, somewhere that would allow them a bit more freedom, the potential danger of granting that to him only adding to the thrill of it all.

Recalling his request, she brought her wet fingers to her lips and tested herself to see what she could handle, learning how much could fit and how deeply and for how long before she’d need a break. Just the hint of him on them encouraged her to try more, deeper, longer, as her other hand matched the pace inside her core and her thumb flicked at her clit.

She’d find an excuse for why she’d need to clean her own sheets tomorrow.

As Emma at last relaxed into the mattress, she drifted into dreams of what might be in store for the two of them. There are some things she would never tell her parents, and fucking the Dark One again and again would just have to be one of them.

——

Tag list ❤️: @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @hollyethecurious @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @kmomof4 @qualitycoffeethings @stahlop @teamhook @the-darkdragonfly @thejollyroger-writer @tiganasummertree @xsajx @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert

[searchingwardrobes]

Not the Type - 6/8

Finally! A new update :) Sorry for the delay, but the muse has been fickle as of late. In this chapter, Emma has her first competition of the season, and it's psyching her out. Will Killian be her encouragement, or will she push him away in the midst of it all? This chapter includes another iconic scene from the movie, when Torrance dances around her room to Cliff's song. I wanted to use the actual lyrics to the song, but in looking at it, there were a few lines that bothered me. One literally says "I'd bring you flowers every day just to roll you in the hay." And then there's a constant refrain that says "I'll make you mine." Those lines just don't seem to jive for me with Killian's character when in canon he specifically tells David that he doesn't see Emma as loot and tells Emma that he will win her heart, but not through any trickery. We know he isn't the kind of guy to give a woman flowers in order to manipulate her into sleeping with him. We also know how much agency means to him, so I didn't think telling Emma in song "I'll make you mine" fit either. Anyways, that's a long way of explaining that the lyrics are 99% like the ones in the movie, minus those two parts.

Massive thanks to my beta, @hookedonapirate who takes my confusing sentences and makes them sound purty ;) You’re the best! And thanks also to the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ for putting together this event and being massively supportive and patient. 

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rated: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @kmomof4  @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xhookswenchx @teamhook @let-it-raines @winterbythesea @spartanguard @shireness-says @superchocovian @thesschesthair @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @hookedonapirate @ultraluckycatnd @hollyethecurious @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @bethacaciakay @optomisticgirl @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @ekr032-blog-blog @itsfabianadocarmo @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @xsajx @jennjenn615 @zaharadessert @stahlop @scientificapricot @thislassishooked @kday426 @ultraluckycatnd @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @lassluna​

The room was thick with hair spray, and Emma and the rest of the Storybrooke Knights Cheerleaders were sucking on orange slices. Except for Ruby who was touching up her blood red lipstick in front of one of the mirrors propped up on the classroom’s smart board. 

“I think they’re red enough already, Ruby,” Coach Ava remarked as she sprayed more Aquanet all over her daughter’s hair. MM was having to wear a hair extension so she didn’t look out of place with their “hair” theme, and Coach was paranoid it was going to go flying across the gym floor during their routine. Emma wasn’t sure hairspray worked that way, but she wasn’t about to say so. 

Ruby smacked her lips together with a loud pop. “The redder the better, I say. I want them to see my smile.”

She turned to the rest of the group and flashed a toothy grin. They all laughed, and Belle grimaced. 

“More like a predator about to devour her prey.”

Ruby winked at Belle and growled, resulting in more laughter. Coach Ava rolled her eyes as she capped the hairspray. “Just don’t get it all over your teeth, okay Lucas?”

“No worries, Coach, it’s that long-lasting stuff that isn’t supposed to come off.”

“So why did you need fifty coats?” Tiana quipped.

They were all still laughing when a woman wearing a t-shirt that read, East Maybrook Invitational and holding an ipad poked her head into the classroom. “Storybrooke High in the hole!”

The girls all stood, gathering up their things, tossing orange peels into the trash bins and giving their hair and make up one last glance in the mirror. They followed the woman in the official t-shirt down two hallways to East Maybrook High’s cafeteria where cheer mats had been set up in the same configuration as on the performance floor. The girls took their places as if they were really performing, and marked out the routine while Coach Ava counted out the beats. If something went wrong with the music, they would have to keep going. They only pantomimed doing the stunts, however, not wanting to risk a last minute injury. 

After running through the routine, a nervous silence fell among them. Some girls stretched, others did a few jumps, or even a back handspring. Anything to handle their nervous energy. Emma bounced on the balls of her feet, heart pounding in her chest more than usual. A phone call had followed the letter: someone from the UK cheer staff would be in the stands today. 

And she still hadn’t told her friends about it.

“Storybrooke High on deck!” 

The girls gave each other nervous glances and clasped hands in little groups as they followed the woman out of the cafeteria doors. Emma had Ruby on her left and Mary Margaret on her right, their arms threaded together. For once, Ruby was quiet. 

As they neared the gym, the girls could hear the familiar sounds of competition: loud music, an announcer's voice, shouts as the audience cheered for the cheerleaders for once. It made the adrenaline pump even harder. It usually was at this moment that Emma went into her competitive “zone” where everything around her went fuzzy and her mind became laser focused on the routine and what she had to do. Today, however, she felt like she was on sensory overload, unable to turn off all the sights, sounds, and smells around her. 

Before she could even process everything, Storybrooke was being announced to the crowd. Emma ran out onto the floor with a huge smile, cheers, and fist pumps for the crowd, but it felt like she was outside of herself, watching. She took her place on the floor, standing in prep, her arms straight at her sides and her head down. Her fists were clenched, and she tried to control the nervous tremors coursing through her as she waited for their music to start. 

A synth-pop remix of “Hair” from the Broadway musical started to play, and the Storybrooke Knights whipped their ponytails as they started their back handspring/back tuck peel-offs. Coach Ava always said that the music needed to appeal to every generation represented in the judge’s panel as well as the crowd, and as Emma flawlessly landed her tumbling pass to roaring applause, she saw the two boomer judges smiling and bopping to the music. 

She reprimanded herself for looking at the judges as she jogged across the floor for her next tumbling pass. Nevertheless, she scanned the crowd just before she started her pass, wondering where that UK recruiter was. It was the most difficult pass in the entire routine: a back handspring into an arabian, then a double whip into a full twisting double back. She hesitated, stumbling, before getting started because of her distraction, and by the time she did her second whip, she had a sinking feeling. Sure enough, when she landed her double back, she was way out of bounds. She didn’t need the loud buzzer from the line judge to alert her to the fact. She gritted her teeth in frustration, but then remembered to fake a smile as she got into the dance formation. Her face ached from her forced smile as she swung her hips to the rhythm of “Whip My Hair.”

Emma’s next mistake came in the squad’s first pyramid. It felt like she had a weight attached to her ankle, and she couldn’t lift her leg as high as she normally did to connect to Mary Margaret’s stunt group to her left. She almost lost her balance completely, but Ruby compensated and saved it. Mary Margaret didn’t falter either, thank God. Emma was practically shaking as she went into the twist up stunt - her nemesis in this routine. Kelly Rowland singing “Crown” as Emma popped up, her hand grasping her ponytail, helped her power through, as cheesy as it sounded. 

Despite the mistakes Emma was berating herself for, the crowd was going crazy for the combination of the theme, the music, and the cool tricks. By the end, the entire gymnasium was on its feet with thunderous applause. Emma ended the routine seated on the mat, back to the audience with her head flung back. Since she saw them all upside down, she couldn’t pick out her family or anyone in Kentucky blue. 

Ruby yanked Emma to her feet, screaming loud enough to shatter her eardrums. Mary Margaret and Ariel sandwiched her in a hug, and then they were swept away by the rest of their ecstatic teammates. 

“Amazing job, girls!” Coach Ava praised, gathering them in a big, squirming, awkward group hug. “Mary Margaret didn’t even lose her hair!’’

They all laughed giddily, except for Emma. Her mind was reeling. “I went out of bounds,” she confessed.

Coach Ava waved off her words. “It’s our first competition. It’s normal for there to be kinks to work out. Let’s not worry about that until the next practice, though. For now, let’s just celebrate a solid opening for the season.”

Her teammates seemed to all be in agreement, and so did the judges, awarding The Storybrooke Knights with a third place finish. It wasn’t their best opening - that had been last year’s first place trophy to kick off the season - but making the top three was the goal of every top squad right out of the gate. Even the UK recruiter had congratulated her on a solid routine.

“I could see the nerves a bit,” she told Emma, her smile kind and reassuring, “but the level of tumbling skill you possess is rare. Top five I’ve seen so far, no doubt about it. We’ll definitely be in touch.”

Emma, however, couldn’t shake the feeling of failure that clung to her. 

“I’m blown away, Swan, that was amazing!”

Emma was in Killian’s arms before she could even register that he’d rushed out of the bleachers and onto the floor to greet her. He brushed a kiss to her cheek and deposited a bouquet of white daisies into her arms. 

“It wasn’t amazing,” Emma whispered, staring down at the white flowers. 

“Come now, don’t be modest.” Killian’s grin conveyed giddy pride in her which she found inexplicably annoying. 

“I stepped out of bounds on my big tumbling pass, I almost took down our first pyramid, and I was shaky on every single stunt!”

Killian’s eyes narrowed. “Your team doesn’t seem put out with you.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “They’re being nice. If we hadn’t placed, it would have been a different story. It would have all been my fault.”

“Whatever happened to the whole we win as a team, we fail as a team thing?”

“My team relies on me keeping my head on straight!” Her voice had risen, and she slashed the air with the bouquet of flowers. White petals fluttered to the gym floor. 

Killian cocked his head and studied her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing!”

“It’s something, Swan.” 

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she stepped out of his reach. 

“I just let everyone down, but no one will be straight with me. Why can’t you all just admit I screwed up today?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t think you’re seeing things clearly. I saw an amazingly talented athlete today, Swan. You were amazing.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Of course you’d say that. You’re a high school guy. You’ll say anything you have to to get in a cheerleader’s panties.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “You really think so little of me?”

She tilted her chin. “I’m no fool. Did you think tonight would be the night? Show up to my little competition, compliment me, throw in some flowers, and I’d spread my legs for you?”

Killian backed away, his jaw clenching, nostrils flaring. “I’m going to assume you don’t mean any of that, Emma, so I’m walking away before either of us can say anything we might regret.”

“Fine!” she yelled as he turned and walked toward the gym doors. “Walk away! That’s what every guy does when a girl won’t put out.” She threw the flowers at his retreating form. She watched the white petals swirl through the air and the green stems hit the parquet floor with a soft swish and crinkle of cellophane wrapper. 

“Emma!”

She whirled around to see Ruth standing there, frown upon her face and her brow furrowed. David stood next to her, his arms crossed in disapproval. Nearby a cluster of her teammates stared as if she’d morphed into some mythological creature with two heads. Her face burned as she realized how loudly she’d yelled at her boyfriend. 

Probably ex-boyfriend now. 

Humiliated, she turned and fled, fingers pressed to her flaming cheeks. 

*********************************************

“Go away,” Emma muttered into her pillow.

“What if I were Mom with a plate of brownies?”

Emma grabbed a teddy bear, clutching two tiny red pom poms (a gift from Ruth after last year’s state championship win), and smacked her brother in the head with it. She glared at him through one eye, the rest of her face still smashed into the pillow. 

“I knew it was you because you crashed down on my bed hard enough to catapult me out the window. Ruth’s more subtle.”

David just laughed as he rubbed at his cheek where the bear had met his face. 

“Go away,” she repeated, turning her face fully into the pillow again.

“You left your phone downstairs.”

“So?”

“So, you have like fifty text messages and thirty missed calls.”

Emma rolled over, still clutching her pillow to her chest. “Well, he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“It wasn’t just Killian. Your entire team is worried about you.”

“Because I choked?”

“Because you're delusional,” David shot back with equal parts humor and frustration. “You didn’t choke. You didn’t let any of us down. You didn’t give a lousy performance, or any of a thousand other ridiculous claims you’ve made in the past few hours.”

Emma turned to look at her brother. “I made mistakes, David.”

He shrugged. “Who doesn’t? It was one competition, Emma, not the Olympics. It wasn’t even the state championships or regionals. One. Competition. At some tiny high school in the middle of nowhere, Maine.”

Emma groaned as she pushed herself up to the headboard and let her head drop to David’s shoulder. He put his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Kentucky?”

Emma sighed. When the recruiter had called, she insisted on speaking to Ruth as well. Emma should have known she would spill the beans to her son, especially after Emma acted like a complete lunatic. 

Yes, a delusional lunatic. Her brother wasn’t wrong. 

“I don’t know, it was just . . . a lot to process. And a lot rides on this. I mean, there aren’t any football recruiters looking at you, which means college is gonna be expensive, Mr. Quarterback. If my tuition is taken care of, Ruth can just worry about you.”

“I could get other scholarships.”

“You’re a white, middle class male. You aren't getting any other scholarships.”

He chuckled and poked her in the ribs. “Regardless of all that, Mom just wants what’s best for you. We’ll figure out college and the money and all that, but we’ll do it together. That’s what a family does. Okay?”

This family thing was still new for Emma, so she just nodded in agreement against David’s shoulder. 

“But speaking of Killian,” David said, waving her phone in front of her face, “some of these calls and texts are from him. He sent you a video, too. Then called me and pretty much begged me to get you to watch it, so just give him that much, okay? So he’ll leave me alone?”

Emma rolled her eyes as she took the phone. David could protest all he wanted, but she knew about the little bromance he had with her boyfriend. 

She waited until her brother went downstairs before she sat cross-legged in the center of her bed and pulled up the video from Killian. She gnawed on her bottom lip nervously before pressing “play.” 

And there Killian was, on the tiny screen, smiling like they’d never had a fight. Emma’s lips pulled up into a grin of her own. He was also holding his guitar in his lap and fidgeting.

“Hi, Emma,” he said with a nervous little wave. “You’ve been ignoring all my calls and texts, so I decided to pull out the big guns. I was gonna give this to you as a gift for like Valentine’s Day or something, but  . . . you know . . . desperate times call for desperate measures.”

He cleared his throat and shifted again, and Emma blinked back tears. She’d never seen him at such a loss for words. 

“I wrote you a song,’ he continued, “so, I’ll just shut up and sing it already.”

Emma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as he began to strum his electric. It started 

out as a kind of slow, cheeky punk rock ballad.

Oh, Emma, I don’t get your cheerleading squad, but I love your pom-poms. I'd feed you bon-bons all night.

Then it transitioned into a full on rock song, and Killian began to shred on his guitar. He was really good, and the song had Emma bobbing her head to the music. 

1,2,3,4. Yeah, you got me to feel all those butterflies inside. In your locker I would hide. The truth, it's only you I see, and you're just what I need. I'll bring you flowers all the time in hopes that you’ll be mine. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart.

When he transitioned into the chorus, Emma leapt up from her bed. She propped her phone on her nightstand and began to dance around the room to Killian’s song.

And you're just what I need. And you're just what I need. Not everything works as it seems. Is that so hard to believe? So I went down to the record store. Picked my head up off the floor. The truth, it's only you I see. And you're just what I need. And if it's my world that you fear, let me make this very clear. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart. And you're just what I need.

The chorus repeated a couple more times, and Emma danced around her room like she hadn’t in a long time. She even grabbed an old pair of pom poms she’d gotten as a joke at the squad’s white elephant Christmas party. They were those enormous pom poms cheerleaders used to wave in the long ago days of letter sweaters and megaphones. They made a fun swishing sound as she bounced around the room to Killian’s song. 

A song he’d written for her! A song about her! If she wasn’t so giddy and happy, she would burst into tears. 

When the song ended, Emma collapsed onto her bed, panting from her ridiculous dance party and grinning ear to ear. She rolled over and grabbed her phone. She texted rapidly, her fingers trembling. 

I watched your song. 

Did you like it? 

I LOVED it!

Good. I meant every word. 

I’m sorry. 

I know. 

[rpf-bat]

Rocking Out Just For The Dead

Pairing: Frank Iero x Male!Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama

Summary: Requested by @kpopchangedmylifesstuff. You’re playing Download Festival 2007 with your band, Paramore. My Chemical Romance are headlining the festival. After your set, Frank invites you onto his tour bus, for a friendly battle of Guitar Hero 2. But, when the hanging out turns into something more, your bandmate, Josh Farro, threatens to destroy whatever you and Frank have. 

You found yourself in Donington, England, playing your band’s brand new single, “Misery Business.” Okay - technically, Paramore wasn’t your band. You’d had no part in composing their new album, which would be dropping at the end of the week. But, their rhythm guitarist, Hunter, had recently quit, to go get married. Your longtime friend, Hayley, had called you up, and asked you to fill in for him, and you had jumped at the chance. 

You had done this once before. Paramore’s bassist, Jeremy, had randomly quit in 2005 - right before the start of Warped Tour. You weren’t sure what had caused him to leave, but you played bass and guitar equally well, so Hayley had asked you to join her and the Farro brothers on tour. You had the time of your life that summer. You had been eighteen then, and had felt more than a little star-struck, when you met people in “bigger” bands. 

Now twenty, you thought yourself older and wiser.  You were determined to be a professional this time around. No petty fights with your bandmates. No acting like a fanboy around the guys playing the Main Stage. Download Festival - the final stop on their Europe tour - was going to go off without a hitch, dammit!

Jeremy, now back in the band, stood to the left of you on the stage. Josh, the guitarist, was on your right. You tried your best to keep your guitar playing in sync with them, as Hayley belted out the final chorus:

Whoa, I never meant to brag

But I got him where I want him now.

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now.

But God does it feel so good,

'Cause I got him where I want him now.

And if you could then you know you would.

'Cause God it just feels so...

It just feels so good…

Zach played the final drum beat, bringing the song to a close. The crowd cheered. You took Hayley’s hand, and took a bow. She grinned at you, before addressing the crowd.

“THANK YOU, DONINGTON!” she bellowed into the mic. “YOU’VE BEEN AN AMAZING CROWD! GOOD NIGHT!” 

“It’s not really ‘night’ yet, you know,” you laughed, as you and the rest of the band walked off the stage. The sun hadn’t even set yet. 

“Yeah, I know,” Hayley sighed. “They put us on this super early time slot.” 

“Because nobody knows who we are,” Josh pointed out. 

“Yeah, the headliners get the later time slots, because they’re more famous,” Jeremy nodded. 

“Well, I think the crowd loved us,” Zach smiled optimistically. 

“He’s right,” you agreed. “Hal, I think you really killed it out there!”

“Thanks,” your friend smiled, brushing her sweat-soaked orange hair out of her eyes. “I really appreciate you coming on this tour with us, Y/N. I know it was really short notice.” 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you smiled back. 

“I thought your guitar playing was great tonight, man,” Jeremy complimented you. “A perfect grand finale.” 

“Thanks, dude,” you beamed, as you grabbed a water bottle. These summer shows were way too humid. 

“I don’t know about that,” Josh mumbled, as he wiped his face with a towel. 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” you frowned, setting your water bottle down. 

“I thought your timing was off during ‘Emergency’,” Josh said critically. 

“Oh….I’m sorry,” you frowned. “I tried to keep up with you…..”

“You should’ve tried harder,” Josh snapped, walking away from you, back towards the bus. 

Wow, you blinked. What’s his deal? 

The elder Farro brother had been needlessly rude to you, since the tour began. You honestly had no idea what you had done to get under his skin. But, you knew better, than to pick a fight with him. Zach was his brother, and Hayley was his girlfriend. You were just an outsider - a temporary, touring member of the band. 

“Are you coming back to the bus with us, dude?” Zach asked, snapping you out of the thoughts you had gotten lost in. 

“.....Nah,” you shook your head. “I think I’m gonna, um, walk around for a bit.” 

“Oh,” Hayley frowned. “Okay. See you later, Y/N.” 

You were pretty sure that she hadn’t heard what Josh had said. You saw no reason to tell her. It would just be starting drama. 

She seemed oblivious to a lot of the tension between you and Josh. He was always on his best behavior, when he knew she was paying attention. But, if it came down to it, you doubted she would side with her guy friend, over her boyfriend. 

It doesn’t even matter, you told yourself. This is the last show of the tour. On Monday, I’ll be heading home to Nashville. He won’t be my problem anymore.

You began wandering aimlessly around the festival grounds, with no real destination in mind. 

‘Hey!” a voice called out to you. 

You looked up, and saw a face you recognized - Frank Iero. 

You had met him on Warped Tour, two years ago. His band, My Chemical Romance, had been headliners, playing the main stage. Tonight, they were headlining this festival, too. His band had gotten even more famous after the release of The Black Parade.

“Hey!” you greeted. 

“Remember me?” Frank grinned. “I know it’s been a while.” 

“How could I forget?” you chuckled. Your heart had been racing the first time you met him backstage, but he had just shook hands with you, like the difference between your bands, was no big deal. You’d had to remind yourself that you were there to play a gig, not ask for an autograph. 

 “How have you been, Frank?”, you asked, trying to play it cool. 

“I’ve been good, Y/N,” Frank smiled. “How about you?”

Oh my god, you gulped. He remembers my name. 

“I-I’ve been great,” you stammered, hoping he couldn’t tell you were blushing. 

“I watched your set earlier,” Frank said cheerfully. “You were really good, dude.” 

“I-I was?!” you gasped. “You don’t think I was playing too slow, or….?”

“Huh?” Frank blinked, confused. “No, you were amazing, bro.  Your whole band was.” 

Ha, you thought. Suck it, Josh. 

“Thank you,” you said politely. “I’m probably going to go check out your band’s set, later, too.” 

“We’ve still got a couple hours before we go onstage,” Frank shrugged. “Since your band already played, you’re free for the rest of the day, right?” 

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, willing yourself to stop thinking gay thoughts about his new haircut. How did he get even better-looking after Revenge era? This is not even fair. 

“We have a PlayStation on our bus,” Frank revealed. “I was wondering if you’d like to play some video games with Mikey and I, for a little while?”

“Oh, sure!” you accepted his offer, trying not to sound too eager. You remembered playing a Donkey Kong bongos game with Mikey a couple years back. You’d lost pretty quickly, and he’d gone to find Zach, hoping that the drummer of the group would give him more of a challenge. You were determined to look less lame this time.  

You followed Frank to My Chemical Romance’s tour bus. He opened the door for you, and you followed him in. Mikey sat on the couch, holding a game controller. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Frank greeted. “You remember Y/N, right? From Paramore?” 

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Mikey smiled. “Long time, no see, man!” 

“No kidding,” you laughed. “How have you been, dude?” 

“Pretty good,” Mikey replied. “The new record’s doing pretty well.” 

This was perhaps the understatement of the year. The Black Parade had sold more copies in its first week, than Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, had sold in two years. You weren’t sure if your own band would ever have that level of success. 

“I bought a copy,” you confessed. “The day it came out.”

“Aw, thanks, bro, we appreciate the support,” Mikey smiled, sounding shockingly humble. 

“When’s the new Paramore record coming out?’ Frank asked. 

“June 12th,” you replied. 

“Oh, wow, so in four days,” Frank realized. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But, um, I didn’t help compose it.” You were just a touring member - not a full part of the band, as he was in his. 

“I’m still gonna buy it,” Frank shrugged. 

“Thanks,” you said awkwardly.

“So,” Mikey cleared his throat, “you’re gonna play Guitar Hero 2 with us, right, Y/N?” 

“He just finished playing half an hour of guitar onstage,” Frank laughed. “You think he wants to play more?”

“I don’t mind sharpening my skills some more,” you shrugged. 

“Whoa, you’re dedicated,” Mikey said, impressed. 

Nah, you thought. I just wanna prove that Josh is wrong about my playing being shitty. 

“Here,” Frank said, handing you the guitar-shaped controller. He pulled up the game menu, with the full list of songs. “We can do any track you want.” 

“You’re going to play against me, in two-player mode?” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Frank smirked. “What’s the matter? You scared of a little challenge?” 

“No way,” you smiled slyly. “I bet I can take you.” 

“Oh, wanna bet?” Frank raised an eyebrow. “Name the song. I’ll show you what I’ve got.” 

“How about this one?” you decided, making a selection on the screen. 

“Um, Y/N…..” Mikey’s eyes widened. “That’s ‘Dead’.” 

“So what?” you smirked. 

“So, that’s our song,” Mikey pointed out.

“I know what it is,” you said certainly. 

“Wait, Y/N, are you serious?” Frank stared, mouth open in shock. “Of all the songs in the game, you want to challenge me with that one? The one I fucking wrote?” 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, staring boldly into his hazel eyes. “You scared I’ll beat you at your own game?” 

“As if,” Frank snorted. “I’ll tell you what, Y/N. If you can actually play ‘Dead’, better than the guy who plays it for a living, I’ll give you one of my fuckin’ guitars.” 

“Seriously?” Mikey gaped. “You’d give one of those away?” 

“He’s not gonna win, dude,” Frank said, with an air of certainty. 

“You wanna bet?” you challenged. 

“Okay, it’s a bet,” Frank decided. 

“If I lose, you can have my guitar,” you wagered. Unlike him, you only had one. But, the tour was over, you considered. It wasn’t like you were going to need it again in the immediate future. 

“It’s a deal,” Frank nodded, extending his hand to you. You shook on it. 

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Mikey said warily, as he handed Frank the second controller. 

“What level do you want to play on?” Frank asked. 

“Expert, of course,” you grinned. “We’re professionals.” 

“Alright,” Frank grinned. “Just don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“You’ll be the one crying when you have to give up your guitar, Iero,” you bantered, feeling cocky. You played Guitar Hero with Jeremy and Josh all the time, and you never lost. It always seemed to drive Josh fucking crazy. 

He hit START, and an animated guitarist in a top hat waddled onto the screen. You heard Gerard’s vocals begin the song with a scream. 

And if your heart stops beating

I'll be here wondering

Did you get what you deserve?

The ending of your life

And if you get to heaven

I'll be here waiting, babe

Did you get what you deserve?

You focused on the fret buttons on your controller. Your Rock Meter started at yellow, but the dial quickly went up to green. You didn’t miss any notes, but, of course, neither did Frank. 

And if your life won’t wait, then your heart can’t take this….

You glanced at Frank. He waggled his eyes at you suggestively. You reddened. If he was trying to throw you off your game, he was succeeding. You told yourself sternly to focus. Then, the chorus kicked in. 

Have you heard the news that you're dead?

No one ever had much nice to say

I think they never liked you anyway

Oh, take me from the hospital bed

Wouldn't it be grand? It ain't exactly what you planned

And wouldn't it be great if we were dead?

“Fuck!” you swore. You’d forgotten how fast this part was. Frank’s fingers were, of course, dancing over the “strings” with no problem. You knew you had to catch up to him. 

You noticed your Star Power meter was almost full, so you waited for just the right moment. 

Tongue-tied and, oh, so squeamish

You never fell in love

Did you get what you deserve?

The ending of your life

And if you get to heaven

I'll be here waiting, babe

Did you get what you deserve?

Just before the second chorus kicked in, you titled the neck of your guitar upwards, activating your Star Power. This meant you would get a quadruple bonus for whatever points you earned. You gave it your all on the chorus, and watched your score go up and up. 

“Whoa!” Frank gasped, seemingly thrown off. To your surprise, he missed a note. 

“Oh, man,” Mikey groaned, from his spectator spot on the couch. 

It was still a pretty close match, when you got to the bridge. But, by the time you got to the outro, Frank seemed to be sweating. As Gerard’s prerecorded voice sang his final “la-la-la”s, the outcome became certain to you. 

If life ain’t just a joke, then, why am I dead?

Oh, dead!

PLAYER ONE WINS!, read the screen, in bright, flashing letters. You realized, panting, that you were player one. 

“I….I did it?” you gasped. 

“Holy shit,” Frank gasped, dropping his controller in shock. “He actually won.” 

He sank down onto the couch, like he couldn’t believe it. 

“Are you….mad?” you frowned, wondering if you should have talked less trash. 

“No, that was amazing!” Frank praised you. “I wasn’t expecting that at all.” 

Despite your bravado, you hadn’t really been expecting to win, either. Whatever confidence you’d lost when Josh critiqued you, had been regained tenfold. Mikey gave you a slow clap. 

“Well, a bet’s a bet,” Frank said finally, standing up, and walking to the other end of the bus. 

“Where are you going?” you blinked. 

“Getting this for you,” Frank smiled, handing you a gorgeous, white Epiphone guitar.

“Frank, you don’t have to….” you gasped. 

“No, I’m a man of my word,” Frank insisted. “I’ll even help you carry it back to your bus.” 

“You serious?” you asked, incredulous. 

“Hey, man, you earned it,” Frank shrugged. He put the guitar in its case, and then put the case on his back. “Let’s go.” 

“Thanks for hanging out with us, Y/N,” Mikey waved. “That showdown was pretty fun to watch.” 

“See ya, Mikey,” you waved back. “Thanks for having me.” 

You still couldn’t believe this had happened. They seemed so much cooler than you.

Frank was quiet at first, as you walked back to the Paramore bus. You felt awkward, unsure what to say to him. 

“So,” he asked, “do you think that your bandmates are gonna be impressed, when they see the guitar you won?” 

“I’m sure Hayley will,” you replied. “Josh….maybe not.”

“Why not?” Frank asked. “He’s the lead guitarist of your band. Wouldn’t that make him more impressed?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I feel like he’s never impressed with anything I do.” 

“What’s his beef with you?” Frank asked, looking annoyed on your behalf. 

“I’m not sure,” you confessed. “Maybe it’s because he’s super Christian.”

“And you’re…..not Christian?” Frank guessed. 

“And I’m gay,” you confessed. 

“.....Oh.” Frank stopped in his tracks for a minute, seemingly taken aback by this. 

Your face went red. Fuck. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that out loud. 

“Do you, umm…..do you mind that?” you asked nervously. 

“Pfft,” Frank scoffed. “Dude. You think I ‘mind’ gay guys? Have you missed the part, where I’ve spent half this tour, making out with Gerard, in front of thousands of people?” 

“Are you and Gerard…..together?” you asked uncertainly. 

“Oh, no,” Frank shook his head quickly. “I’m totally single.” 

Your heart began to beat more quickly, as you noticed he said I’m single - not I’m straight. Were you reading him wrong? You wondered if you had the balls to make a move. 

This is the last night of the tour, you told yourself. If I don’t say something right now, I won’t get another chance. 

“Frank….”, you said, taking a deep breath, and telling yourself to man up. “I, um, I think you’re really cute.” 

“Really?” Frank said, stepping closer to you. You felt the hot metal door of the bus against your back. “Y/N, I think you’re pretty cute, too.” 

“Y-you do?” you breathed, your cheeks going hot as he leaned in. Was this real life? Or had the June heat made you start hallucinating?

“I do,” Frank smirked. “How about you give me my guitar back, and I give you a kiss instead?”

“Sounds like we have a deal,” you purred, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a kiss hotter than the summer sun. He responded, eagerly, pressing you harder up against the door as his tongue found its way into your mouth. You moaned….

But, just then, you were launched violently forward, as the door swung open behind you. You and Frank hit the ground, as Josh came storming out of the bus. 

“You guys are disgusting!” he growled. 

“Dude, what’s your problem?!” Frank demanded, getting up, and brushing the dirt off his pants. He gave you his hand, and helped you up out of the grass. 

“My problem is the display of perversion, that you two are putting on, in front of God and everybody!” Josh cried. “Do you have to do that in front of my bus?!” 

“You think we’re perverts?” you gasped, shocked and hurt by his words. 

“All gay men are perverts,” Josh sneered. “What kind of image are you setting for the band? A lot of our fans are Christian. They won’t buy our new record, if they see you behaving like this, Y/N!” 

“Not every Christian is a homophobic piece of shit like you,” Frank snapped, putting himself between you and the irate guitarist. 

“What did you just call me, you nancy boy?!” Josh hissed, and threw a punch in Frank’s direction. 

Frank caught the punch in his hand. “I called you a piece of shit!” he repeated, before throwing a punch of his own. Unlike Josh’s, it connected, sending your homophobic bandmate down into the dirt. 

“You’re gonna pay for that, Iero!” Josh yelled, wiping the blood from his nose. He tried to get up, but never made it off the ground, as Frank kicked him in the ribs. 

“Frank, stop!” you cried. “That’s enough!” 

“No, it’s not!” Frank said angrily. “You said it yourself, right, Y/N? This guy has been being a dick to you all summer, just because of your sexuality! That’s bullshit!” 

He aimed another kick in Josh’s direction. You were surprised, how defensive Frank had become of you, despite knowing you for such a short time. 

“What the hell is going on here?!” cried a familiar voice. You turned, and saw Zach approaching the bus, with Hayley close behind him. 

“Hal and I leave for two seconds to go get snacks, and some asshole starts beating up my brother?!” Zach gasped. 

“Josh, oh my god, are you okay?” Hayley gasped, running over to check out her boyfriend’s nosebleed. 

“He’s not an asshole,” you explained. “Guys, this is Frank, from My Chemical Romance.” 

“I don’t care what band he’s from,” Zach said angrily. “Why is he kicking Josh?”  

“Because Josh called me a pervert,” you explained. 

“A pervert?” Hayley repeated. “Why would he say something like that?” 

“I said it, because this freak had his tongue down Y/N’s throat!” Josh explained. 

“Wait, what?” Hayley blinked. 

“We, um, yeah, we were kissing,” you admitted, embarrassed. 

“You, um…..you like to kiss guys?” Zach asked awkwardly. 

“Um, yeah,” you said, feeling uncomfortable. You had never come out to him. You knew he was a devout Christian, too, and had assumed he would hold the same views as his brother.

“That doesn’t make you a pervert,” Zach said, surprising you. 

“But, what will the fans think?!” Josh demanded. 

“Some of our fans are gay, too,” Hayley pointed out. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. I can’t believe you would call Y/N names, just for something like that.”

“Yeah, Josh, I’m really disappointed in you,” Zach frowned. You were stunned. You never expected him to take your side. 

“You don’t think that what he and Frank are doing is a sin?” Josh asked. 

“I think God loves everyone,” Zach said plainly. “And only He can judge Y/N. I’m not going to.” 

“You guys can’t be serious!” Josh gaped. 

“I’m seriously reconsidering your position in this band,” Hayley said, narrowing her eyes. “And in this relationship.” 

“What? Babe….come on,” Josh pleaded. “Y-you wouldn’t dump me, and fire me, just because of this stupid fruit…..”

“Call him a fruit one more time,” Frank snarled. “See what happens, pal.” 

“Frank, it’s okay,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I have my band on my side now, and that makes….all the difference.” 

You were touched by their support. You had stayed silent this whole time, because you didn’t think you would have it. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry that my brother treated you like this,” Zach said quietly. “I want you to know, I support you, and your boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you shook your head. “We just kissed for the first time today, and….” 

“I could be your boyfriend,” Frank said softly. “If you want me to.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Do you want me to?” Frank asked, smirking at you. 

“I….I’m supposed to be going home to Tennessee soon,” you hesitated. “And you live in New Jersey, so….”

“I’m in the most famous band in the world,” Frank said smugly. “I have a private jet that can take me wherever you are.” 

“......Oh,” you blushed. 

“So,” Frank repeated, leaning in closer again, “do you want me to be your boyfriend, Y/N?”

“....Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I do.”

You pulled him into another kiss, not caring that the rest of your band was watching. Or how much it pissed Josh off. The tour was ending, but your once-in-a-lifetime romance was just beginning. 

[a-smile-hides]

WARPAINT - I.R.

WARNINGS: long fic, description of battles, blood, wounds, death, some time jumps, I had a bit of a block during this …

This was actually requested, so thank you for that! Sorry for the wait. I kind of got carried away with this. My first draft was not so long, but then I realised I kind of wanted a stronger reader and now… well this happened. Hope you enjoy!! xxx

The request: Hello! I wasn't sure if requests were open or not, but I had this idea were the reader is not a shield maiden and prefers doing other things, and shes not exactly that well-built. Maybe there's an attack on kattagat and she's one of the people who were taken? But she fights her way out and goes back to kattagat when ivar was planning a rescue mission (nobody thinks she could fight) but she can because of some reason in the past and she was forced to? I'm literally just throwing ideas.

---

“Correct me if I am wrong, but the Christians that you just defeated have invited you and your brothers – and only you three – to come to their palace to talk about peace?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve. “You honestly can’t believe that Ivar.”

Ivar sighed. His back was turned towards you as he tightened the straps of his gloves.

“Ivar… Do you?”

Ivar threw his head back, looking up to the sky above him. The sky was bright blue. A couple of birds flew over, following the largest one in their group to their next adventure. Behind him a couple of men sat together whispering and pointing at the exchange in front of them, wondering aloud what or who made you qualified to step up and talk to one of their leaders. “Of course not. It is not me who has turned into a fool.”

His words made you bite your lip. Merely a few hours after the army had returned victorious, a petit man dressed in beautiful red robes decorated with golden leaves had fearfully entered the camp. Stuttering and barely looking into anyone’s eyes, the man proclaimed his lord acknowledged their triumph and had asked the three leaders to come to the castle at sunset. In that way they could discuss the outcome of this victory. This lord, the prince of this dying land, clearly did not want to lose any time.

Ubbe, wanting to take this opportunity of peace, had immediately accepted the offer to which the messenger nodded and ran away, looking like a dog with its tail between his legs. Ivar had been furious and confused by his brother’s naïve decision. But he could not ignore the fact that a part of him was curious to what this prince wanted to offer in exchange for “peace”. This soil was rich, and he knew this land held unknown treasures. Its only flaw was the leadership. And so, he wanted to follow his brothers to this castle. Yet, he knew how foolish they would be if they did not bring their most trusted warriors to the castle.

“You are going no matter what I say?” The question came out as a statement. You didn’t need any answer. The silence that followed and the slight second his movements halted were enough. Slowly, he turned around. A sly grin concealed the doubts he had.

“Do I suspect some concern?”

You licked your lips, shifting your weight to one leg. “I am only worried about my place in this camp. You know they don’t like me here, Ivar. Without you, they might come up with something to get rid of me.” You said laughing airily, your head subtlety nodding in the direction of the men behind you whose eyes were still locked on you two. And although you said it with a small grin, your words held a certain truth. And he knew it too.

Ivar nodded his head. “I would like to see them try.” He whispered, narrowing his eyes.

You could hold back you laugh. Ivar pressed his lips together at the sound, hiding his smile as he watched you. And then, the mood changed. That airy, light feeling disappeared. Everything became serious, while the two of you just stared at each other.

“Be careful?” You asked him again. Your voice was small, barely audible.

Ivar looked up at you and extended his hand, mentioning you to come closer. In a few steps you stood in front of him, patiently waiting for his answer. Tenderly, he grabbed your hand. His thumb brushed over your skin, while his other hand followed the curve of your hip. His brilliant blue eyes stared right up at you. The corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards.

Ivar breathed in deeply, leading your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips on your hand.

With that you got his silent promise.

***

A fire crackled in the background as the sun began her descent. The dry ground felt cool against your feet. The birds chirped loudly as they flew over the camp. From behind you, you heard someone howl as his friend emptied his cup in one big gulp. The music that was played by some of Sigurd friends amused the crowd. And slowly but surely more and more people joined the drinking game going on around the fire.

The mood was light and happy. Every last man or woman that decided to come along this raid was cheerful because of the recent victory on those pathetic Christians. Ivar had used his tactics and bright mind to conceive a master plan. Ubbe had led them forward with his skills as a warrior and Hvitserk gave the men the support they needed in the middle of the fight. The army, for once, was not big in numbers, but with those three it hardly was necessary.

No one knew who came up with the idea to organize this raid. But not a single soul cared. Since Ragnar’s disappearance, those voyages had been put to a halt and many men and women longed for this opportunity. An opportunity to raid and find treasures and make their families proud. An opportunity to get access to Valhalla.

Now that the three brothers had left to negotiate, the camp had decided to feast. No one was worried for their safety. Even if they had been gone for longer than the few hours they anticipated. The road to the battlefield had been long and tiring. Who knew how far this castle lay?

A fine grin formed on your lips as the sounds filled your ears. With your back turned towards them all as you let your body sway to the rhythm of the music. With both hands you lifted your skirt up, keeping it out of the dust’s range you kicked up as your movements got bigger. The music swelled up and you closed your eyes.

Your mind had been clouded by worries and possible disastrous outcomes for the sons of Ragnar, but now for the very first time since they left, you could let go of those dark thoughts.

Getting lost in the story the tune told you, you did not notice the girl that joined your side. She had come along this raid with her mother, a gifted healer. It was clear she had inherited this knowledge, and therefore wished to accompany her mother on this voyage. Her big eyes were focused on you as she tried her best to imitate your moves. Many times, she almost tripped over her own feet.

With your eyes closed, you kept twirling and dancing to the music. Lost to the world around you and the crowd that watched with amused eyes to the show going on in front of them. Some men catcalled while others were completely obvious to the dance. As the music slowed down, you took a moment to catch your breath. Only now you noticed the people that had their gaze pointed at you.

“Is it true?”

The high voice of the young girl next to you made you snap out of your daze, looking at her with your eyebrow raised.

The young girl grinned; her eyes glimmered with mischief. “Is it true you dance for the brothers like this every evening? They say you do it for Ivar whenever he demands it.”

Her innocent question made you snort; her innocence could not stop the irritation from building up inside of you. It was not the first time someone had asked you this.

Unlike other children, who helped their parents in their line of work, you often hung around the brothers. Acting as a shadow and sneaking up on them. This continued until you came of age, and Hvitserk saw you disappear into the woods with your father. He dragged a heavy cart with him, knives, axes and ropes thrown into it, while you carried a large basket with food in it. At first it did not worry him, but when you did not return for five days, questions arose amongst the brothers. When the day of your return arrived, the men were confused, but happy to see you. Only Ivar had been reluctant, focussing more on the scars and bruises that covered your body. It was only after you had shaken your head at him and asked Sigurd to play your favourite song once again that he warmed up, trying his best to hide his smile as you danced to the music his brother played.

Many wondered why you always danced until your feet got raw. Swaying your hips and twirling around in circles until the sun set in the evening. Many thought it was the effect of plants that you were not supposed to eat or the consequence of your mysterious disappearing in the woods. You learned fast that everything that was not done by most people, was considered odd.

This could be the reason why the youngest prince let you walk beside him. He too was considered as someone odd, someone unusual. Although you were not a shieldmaiden, nor a woman with a famous background, a connection was shared.

Ivar often said to be irritated by your presence and loudly proclaimed that when he was around his brothers. He would hide his smile, only giving it when he knew no one else was around. Sometimes he would utter out a sneaky comment as you passed them, making Hvitserk snicker and Sigurd roll his eyes. Yet never would he allow another to say those out loud. The ones who dared to mock you in his presence usually ended up with a nasty cut on their forehead.

“Y/N, you’re ignoring my question.” The healer’s daughter sang out.

This time you laughed out heartily. “People believe what they want to believe. I must say that I don’t know wh-“

Your voice died as you looked to your left, where the road lay on which Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk had departed. Appearing at the horizon was a horse, soon followed by four others. Their riders hitting the animals to make them run faster. Squinting your eyes at the moving figures, you saw how each of them seemed to be shouting, one even raising their sword high in the air. The metal reflected some of the sunlight and made turn your head. The sight only made your heart miss a beat. Behind you, although hard to see due to the evening sun, you could make out the silhouettes of the men that slowly stepped out of the woods.

The girl beside you noticed your worried gaze and followed it to the tree line. Her cheeky smile disappeared immediately once she too noticed the men storming at your camp. All of them carrying various weapons.

The young girl screamed out, making the musicians stop playing and everyone look up. Frightened the girl ran in the direction of her mother’s tent, while you shouted out at the top of your lungs.

“Ambush!”

***

“Does he really think he can bribe us with a bit of land, now?”

Ivar’s soft but menacing words made every Christian man in the large palace room look up alarmed. They did not know what he was saying, because suddenly he had changed to his own language, but his tone had changed drastically. During this whole ordeal, the young man had not spoken much. Only asking a couple of questions on a light and airy tone. Now it seemed as if his patience had reached its end.

“Do not forget that we are in another country, Ivar”

“Ubbe, this kingdom is dying. You are the one forgetting we destroyed them on the battlefield. We should just raid and move on. Maybe we can send word to our home. To little Sigurd. He could stand in as our man here?” He grinned, “Then at least he does something useful.”

Hvitserk lowered his head as Ubbe sighed out.

The prince coughed, snapping the men out of their argument. This man, the only living member of the royal family, had been sitting on his throne uncomfortably ever since the Viking brothers had arrived. He had invited them over in hopes of finding a truce. Some form of agreement so that he and every last resident in his land could come out of this alive. But so far, none of his offers had pleased all the brothers.

“We could take the land, Ivar. The best that is out there. We can demand it from him.” Hvitserk urged, a wide grin on his face. Ubbe nodded at him, patting him on the back. The prince grinned at the interaction.

Ivar rolled his eyes. Something did not feel right. The land was theirs to take. This prince knew it too. He did not get why his brothers suddenly became too soft to continue.

Ivar’s suspicion only grew when a slim man dressed in the same red and golden robes as the messenger that directed them here entered the room. His gaze was only pointed at his lord, trying his best to avoid the heathens that he feared. Bowing for a second, the man stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but then closed it as he finally locked eyes with the three men sitting in front of him. Those heathens knew his language. Leaning forward, he quickly whispered something in the prince’s ear which made him sit up straight. The prince nodded his head at his messenger, thanking him and letting him leave.

For the first time, he stepped off his throne and walked towards the three brothers. He took a moment, nodding to himself as if he were encouraging himself to continue. “Good news, my informant just told me the council has agreed to come together and talk about this arrangement.” The prince stretched his arms out wide, a hopeful smile on his face. Ubbe and Hvitserk nodded their head at him, while Ivar looked away. “This all on the condition that you spare the people and myself and do not attempt another attack on my kingdom.”

***

Blood covered the dusty ground as the large group of men fought their way through the camp. Each of them entering the tents to drag the ones that tried to hide in them outside, claiming their most valuable belongings as their own. Laughing wickedly, each of them left the tent ravished behind them, setting them on fire once all the goods had been taken out of it. Women thrashed around in their holds as men of different ages fought bravely against the marching forces.

It became clear very early that this was a planned attack. A strategical set in a game of vengeance. The clearing had been chosen carefully by the three brothers. It was large enough so anyone who had joined this raiding party could place their tent where they wanted to. It provided a good view on any upcoming forces. And enough scouts were present in the forest, carefully placed there to warn everyone if an attack may happen.

And yet, no signal was sent. Those Christian men snuck up on the camp as if someone had opened the door for them.

As you hid in the tent, you watched with sorrowful eyes how the girl that admired you earlier sat beside her mother. Her little body shook in fear, while tears kept rolling over her rosy cheeks. In the chaos of the attack, you had pulled them with you inside a tent. Your hideout was fragile. Nothing more than a piece of cloth. But at least it was something. A place to think of a better plan.

Two shieldmaidens had followed you inside. One tried her best to look outside, while the other tried to mend her broken bow.

Outside, the screams of anguish and the shouts of war became less prominent, making you think the Christian forces were retreating or at least, that the fight was ending. The shieldmaiden at the opening of the tent seemed to share your thoughts, lifting her hand in a silent demand for the girl to calm down.

Her brows were furrowed as she slowly pushed away the material that closed your hideout. Her eyes scanned the area, but seemed not to find any enemy.

“I can’t see anyone. We cannot stay here. The girl will betray us with her cries.” She whispered out. Her eyes going from her fellow shieldmaiden to the mother.

“She is a child!” The woman whisper-shouted, pressing her whimpering daughter against her chest.

“If she is a child than why is she even here?” The other shieldmaiden snapped back. “The camp is not a sacred place free of any harm.”

The mother scowled at the woman, running her hand over her daughter’s head in a comforting way. “I’ve come along raids many times. Not once have I-“

Her angry words were silenced by the gasp her daughter lets out. Frightened for the safety of her girl, the women grabbed her tightly. But her daughter had not been harmed. Her finger shakily pointed forward as her eyes filled themselves with tears.

The shieldmaiden that was looking out the tent, lay now dead on the floor. Her throat pierced by an arrow.

“Audhilde” Her fellow shieldmaiden whispered out, her hands clenched into fists. Without thinking you jumped up, grabbing the axe the fallen shieldmaiden had taken with her.

In the moment it took you to grab the axe, a second arrow entered the tent, missing you by an inch. The feeling of the arrow zooming past your face made you choke on your breath. Looking to the left you saw two men fight with each other, one of them holding a crossbow in his hands.

Sniffing, the other shieldmaiden took a seat next to you. Her eyes were clouded by the anger rising inside of her. With harsh movements, she lined up her arrow.

“What are you playing at?” She hissed, as you held her back.

Remaining silent, you stared straight into the fiery eyes of the shieldmaiden next to you, while your hand kept pushing the bow down. The woman in front of you frowned, opening her mouth, but was silenced when you placed your finger on your lip. Slowly, you crawled backwards, pulling the woman with you to hide behind the fabric.

Nodding your head towards the small mirror that was placed on the box next to the healer and her child, you made the shieldmaiden aware of the danger right outside the tent. In the reflection you could make out a man. He walked hastily around the tent in front of your hideout, before deciding that the one on its right was the one he needed. A second soldier joined him, and together they entered the tent.

You tilted your head, frowning at their odd behaviour. As you took a better look at them, your confusion only grew. They seemed to be in a rush. As if they were the ones being hunted, as if they were struck with fear and wanted this to end as fast as possible.

The shieldmaiden next to you grew tired of waiting inside the tent. Waiting was just the same as giving up, she thought. Pushing you aside, she took a seat next to the entrance. With the tip of her arrow she carefully pulled back the material of the tent, giving herself more room to get a good look at the outside world.  

“Why haven’t they burned ours yet?” You wondered out loud.

The shieldmaiden snorted, looking over her shoulder briefly. “Why should I care?”

“Look around you. They are not walking around as men that believe in their cause. Only a few seem proud to fight for their lord. We are losing this. We are being slaughtered. And still, most of them seem so scared of what may come after them…”

Your words made the woman in front of you think for a second, before she shook her head and lined up her arrow once more.

“Try to get out as fast as you can. Run to the forest. Take ‘whiny’ and her mother with you. I will take care of those fuckers outside.” She groaned, before she shot her first arrow and launched herself out of the tent.

The shake of your head went not unnoticed by the mother, who looked at you confused. Her insides boiling with anger due to the shieldmaiden abandoning her and her only child in the middles of an ambush with a woman who seemed unfit to protect them.

“Pure suicide. This is going way too fast. Attacking now that the three brothers are not here ...” You mumbled out. The words coming out fast and quiet, crumbling the little hope the woman had. Not only did that shieldmaiden leave her alone with a seemingly unfit person, but now that person was mad too. “They planned this all!”

The conclusion made you snap back to the reality around you. The frightened girl shaking in her mother’s arms, the sounds of swords clashing just outside your tent, yells of terror in the distance. You looked down, the axe lying comfortably in your hand. With a small nod to the mother you told her to get up. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, lifting her daughter up. Her eyes immediately went to the entrance of the tent, but you held her back.

“Go out there and you’ll die.”

The words made her halt. She wanted to scream back at you, but the confident glare on your face made her bite her tongue. “Where do we go then?”

Not answering her, you stepped forward slightly, bending down to get a look of the frightening world outside the tent. Outside the shieldmaiden who had carelessly run out of her hideout was fighting against one of the soldiers. Her face was covered in the blood of her opponents. Skilfully, she kept the man at bay with a sword she had taken from the ground. But beyond her knowing, a second man slowly made his way towards them. The grin on his face was vicious. He was one of the few who enjoyed this all. Collecting all of your power to restrain yourself, you watched how he snuck up on the shieldmaiden and sliced her shoulder with his sword. Turning around before you saw her end, you tried to see if you could find another way to escape.

There was no way you could fight your way out of here. Even if you wanted to, the possibility of stepping outside this tent and be met with the same fate as that woman was too high. Nevertheless, staying in this tent was no option either.

Blinking at the weapon in your hand, an idea struck you. Without hesitation you walked straight towards the back of the tent, followed by the mother and her daughter. With brute force, your pushed away everything that kept you from reaching the fabric of the tent. A couple of boxes, the mirror, some candles, they all landed harshly on the ground. The mother watched perplexed as her daughter escaped her grip and helped you. Your lips curved upward as you looked into her eyes. Raising your eyebrows, you lifted up the axe in the air.

“We’re making us a way out of here…”

With the axe, you sliced the fabric of the tent, ripping it apart. Careful not to end up like the death shieldmaiden inside the tent, you opened the gab slowly, searching for any possible foe.

“Everything’s clear. When I say go, run. Run and do not stop until you’re deep into the woods.”

Not waiting for an answer, you walked around the tent, straight towards the boxes you carelessly threw through the tent. There had to be something in here for them to protect themselves with. The mother narrowed her eyes at your plan, the concern for her daughter made her be on edge. But her daughter nodded determined.

You smiled as you stumbled across a knife. Nodding your head at yourself, you walked up to the mother.

Her confusion did not disappear once you presented her with the knife, but without hesitation she took it from you. “How do you know all of this?”

Not containing the sinister laugh that escaped your lips, you grinned back at the mother.

“My dad wished for a son.” You muttered out, raising your eyebrows at her.

Before you could step outside to get one final look, you heard a low chuckle behind you. Turning around, your eyes widened as they made contact with the men that had attacked the shieldmaiden only a few moments ago.

“Three little birds in a cage.”

“Now!”

In a flinch the mother and her daughter ran out of the tent. The young girl screamed and cried while she held the hand of her mother, her tearful eyes glued on you until she disappeared out of your sight.

The man grunted, irritated by their escape. However, he still had one little bird left. Slowly, as a fox sneaking up on his prey, he walked towards you. Confident in his skills. You licked your lips. Chuckling, the man took a step forward, the sword in his hand raised high above his head. Without thinking, you ducked underneath his swing, sidestepping to avoid him completely. With all the power you could muster up, you sliced the axe across his back. The man hollered, pressing his hand against the wound. As he took sight of the blood on his hand the man simply laughed at you, muttering under his breath. There was no sign that this man was one of those weak one-God lovers Ivar used to tell you about.

The man’s eyes had become very dark. And with a load roar he ran towards you, making you duck to avoid his dangerous move. The man, not expecting this, could not hold himself back and thrashed through the tent and the opening you just made, falling down on his face as he flew through the gab. Not wasting the moment, you ran after him, pushing him down with your foot and hitting him with the stump side of your axe so you could knock him out. As fierce as you may be now, a shieldmaiden was not what you were at heart.

“Heathen!”

The word made your blood run cold. A couple of men had spotted you. Running towards you at full speed, their swords raised high in the air. Turning around and deciding that your time acting as a hero was over, you tried to make a run for it, sprinting to the trees.

With each step the tree line came closer. And with that, your freedom. An escape from the terrible fate of being captured by the enemy. Behind you, tents were still burning. Christian soldiers and Viking warriors lay dead on the bloody floor. Those that had started their escape too late either trashing in the hold of those Christians or hiding in the few tents that were still untouched.

Another step. The trees were so close. Two men ran in front of you. Both carrying their wounded friend, trying their best to get him to safety. Grunting as they carried him forward, completely ignoring his pleas to leave him behind.

Another step. With a quick look behind your shoulder, you noticed that those Christian soldiers had stopped following you. Instead, there was only one remaining. Standing lonesome, next to a tent that was lightened on fire. Not slowing down, you kept running.

And then.

Pain.

A sharp cry passed your lips as the piercing, throbbing pain in your shoulder knocked you off your feet. Falling down on your stomach, you tried your best to look at your right shoulder, where an arrow had pierced your flesh. Moving felt almost impossible, the pain keeping you down on the ground. Leaving you vulnerable. An easy prey for the Christian soldier that walked up to you, grinning wickedly while playing with the bow in his hand.

---

Thank you for reading xxx

Tags: @fairyofvoid​

[gascon-en-exil]

I'm up through Chapter 9 on my first, Morality-aligned playthrough.

The story so far: From both demos it's pretty easy to build a lot of points in the desired conviction if you're only going for one of them, so up to a point manipulating the story splits was very easy. The Chapter 7 vote is now Morality (protect Roland) vs. Utility (surrender Roland), instead of the former being Liberty as in the first demo, which makes more sense although it does lead to the odd situation of Roland himself initially wanting to vote against his own conviction. This led into voting to believe Silvio in Chapter 8 and then foiling his attempt at a Red Wedding, but then I actually lost the Chapter 9 vote because it's Liberty vs. Utility and I didn't have enough points to convince anyone of anything. I'd wanted to go the Utility of route on engaging in the illicit salt trade, but that got narrowly outvoted sending the story to Hyzante to expose Sorsley's illegal trade. I just finished the fight against his retainer, who ambushes the party on the way to the Hyzantian capital.

Impressions on the story: Actually quite good so far, with much of the promised political complexities. Nobody comes out of this looking perfect, not even Roland's family or the ambitious (and amusingly voiced) early plot sacrifice Dragan. As I'm aiming to go down what is effectively Roland's route I'm pleased to see him going through a decent amount of development. He has to deal with the deaths of his father, brother, and master in short order before going on the run and then later fake his own death to get Aesfrost to back off. I assume that last bit is also to help the plot converge again for Chapter 9 since I know it does that, although I'm curious to see how effectively that's pulled off considering there are four separate versions of the previous chapter. This is also, I presume, why Avlora kills Landroi if your army doesn't.

I assume that Silvio is going to die at some point, but I think it'd be funny if he didn't. He's entertainingly slimy, and I have to appreciate a man so into wine that grapes are his house sigil.

Side characters: I have the blacksmith Jens, Julio from the first demo, and the barrel robot singing and dancing automaton Decimal. Jens and Decimal were much puzzled over when they were datamined, the first because one of his starting abilities is building a ladder (yes, really) and the second because...it's a barrel robot, which is just about on the same level of random weirdness as some of Chrono Cross's recruitable cast, or maybe like a less developed fantasy version of Robo from Chrono Trigger. So far I've found Jens more useful (and funny) for his spring trap and net skills, although his ladders came in very handy for the Liberty version of Chapter 9. Decimal's attacking abilities are random in a sense, but extremely broken if you can use them just right as they cover a massive range and attack all enemies with certain HP or TP values. Using it is dumb but oddly fun.

Gameplay: TS is indeed more visual novel than tactical game, but when you do get around to combat it's quite fun and engaging. There's a good sense of character progression despite it being fairly linear, and the rhythm of gameplay keeps all the exploration and voting segments in between from feeling repetitive. Even playing on Very Easy the enemies aren't complete pushovers, and the battles have a lot of variety in terrain and to a lesser extent objectives.

[aomineavenue]

You felt awful, to say the least, you wanted so much to celebrate with your team and show how supportive you were, but all you could plaster on was a small fake little smile as you flicker your gaze over to the other side of the court. The sight was almost heartbreaking.

You never really liked attending such events, if you were going, to be honest. You owned such a soft little heart, always sympathizing the fallen team, whether they were the rival or not. It happens to any sports event, actually. Not just volleyball. You were surrounded by hardworking athletes your whole life, always striving their best to achieve the top, and it crushed your heart to see someone’s hard work crashing down. It’s was your top reason to avoid attending sports events.

You couldn’t blame Ennoshita for persuading you. Actually, you would have said yes to anyone, except for Aiko, because let’s be honest, you, in a cheerleader outfit? The thought seemed ridiculous, you barely had an ounce of rhythm in your body.

Your gaze lands on a familiar tall freshman, and your eyes filled nothing but worry. You wanted to reach out, you knew how he had worked hard for the past couple of weeks since you barely saw him and how he had trouble cooperating with anyone else but was it really okay for you to do so, so soon?

“You should go talk to him,” Ennoshita’s voice cuts your trance, and you couldn’t help but feel startled. Spinning around, your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the team before you, offering you an encouraging smile. Of course, as soon as he appeared, you didn’t keep it to yourself about knowing his identity. Plus, it wasn’t as if you knew how he trained or how much he had improved since you last saw him play, so it wasn’t really much help. All you could offer to them was that he was easily rattled and commented that if Tanaka wanted to do so, he could easily get on the player’s nerves.

Of course, though. Tanaka did just that earlier in the game.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, a frown etching on your lips but before you could protest any further, you were being dragged by the wrists across the court by none other than Tanaka and Nishinoya.

“Just talk to him, silly.” Noya teases with a playful smile, “Your cousin actually looks like he wants to talk to you, too.”

“I—what?” you splutter, your eyes meeting Kentarō’s who looks like his usual terrifying-self. Before you could berate the two who had dragged you, they had fled in fear of the freshmen that stood before you. A sigh escapes your lips, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, nodding his head solemnly, “As okay as I’ll ever be.”

“Tch,” you start, extending your index finger towards his direction as if you were lecturing your tall cousin, “If you would have dropped your stubborn little attitude, you may have actually did a better job, you know.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “Ah, so you were rooting for me despite being the rival, aye? Which reminds me, what are you doing being a manager? I thought you hated attending events like these, and now you’re more than just the audience, you’re a manager?”

“None of your business,” you retort, crossing your arms across your chest. “Of course I would be rooting for you, I know how hard you’ve been working but that doesn’t mean I would want your team to win over ours.”

His lips curl up to a grin as he brings a hand up to lightly tap your nose, “It’s probably because of a boy, isn’t it? Who’s the unlucky fellow? No, more like, who has bewitched my cousin that got her to do this job? Let me guess, it’s that Ennoshita guy you’ve been going on and on and—”

You cut him off with a punch to the shoulder, scowling playfully at him before a laugh escapes both of your lips. You hadn’t exactly brought up the fact that you became a manager for a volleyball team, but he did know of your former relationship with Ennoshita, so it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about. This was just how the two of you interacted, and of course, your mere presence had made him slightly better. He knew he could always count on you. The sight of you earlier was a shock for him and vice versa. He didn’t expect you to attend, much less as a manager, and he hadn’t really mentioned joining the team, so of course, you were just as surprised.

Stepping forward, you wrap an arm around his hip for a side hug and leaned your head on his shoulder (or rather arm, because let’s be honest, he’s rather tall) “Hey, I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, I know—”

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Both attentions flicker to the intruder of the conversation you were both having, your brow arching in curiosity at the sight of Aobajohsai’s Captain, the one you’ve come to know as Oikawa earlier today before the game started, “Sorry?”

Despite your voice, he completely ignores you, which, of course, baffles you as he always seemed to want to capture your attention, but you shrug it off, thinking that maybe the lost had obviously made his rather annoying, yet charming, personality disappear.

“Hey…” you trail off, a small frown evident on your lips as you extract yourself from Kentarō’s side, “That was a great—”

“Mad dog,” he interrupts you, avoiding your gaze at all times, “Let’s go, we’re heading back.” He flickers his gaze over your shoulders and you could visibly see his shoulders tense before spinning around to face the exit, “We don’t associate ourselves with the enemy.”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process what had just happened. As Kentarō bids farewell after mumbling an apology for his Captain’s rude behaviour, you turn around to face your group of friends. Tilting your head slightly, your brows furrow in confusion. Did Oikawa see them approaching? Probably.

Needless to say, for the remainder of the day, you were confused as hell.

Break My Heart | smau!; love and lose.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Summary: Everyone, well almost everyone, here knows how much of a flirt Aobajohsai High’s Volleyball Captain is, right? He’s got the skills, and most definitely, his looks, and he knows it. Never settling down, so what happens when he meets his match?

Status: ongoing | series masterlist

↩ first goodbye | love and lose | i’m indecisive ↪

funfacts!:

↳ Y/N and Kentarou Kyoutani, they are cousins always joint to the hip despite Y/N being a year older. Their fathers are brothers and they always were present in each other’s lives. They live in the same neighbourhood and went to the same schools until they reached High School. Kentarou actually considered attending Karasuno as well but decided against it because he took the Volleyball teams into consideration.

↳ Y/N always supported Kentarou in anything he did. That’s why he’s pretty much protective of his older cousin, not that people thought of that. His relatives and close family friends always mentioned that he looked older than Y/N, and it wasn’t just because of the height difference.

↳ When the team asked how Y/N knew him, she simply said, “He’s my cousin.” and they almost had a heart attack. Of course, they tried to get more information from their manager in hopes to find a weakness.

↳ When Aobajohsai got into the bus for their ride back home, needless to say, all Oikawa did was hide from Kentarou because apparently, “Nobody talks about my cousin that way.”

↳ For the rest of the bus ride, Kentarou glared at Oikawa and all the Captain could do was cower while his friends teased him to lighten everyone’s mood.

[fy-enhypen]

“I don’t want to define music in one word” - Heeseung

HEESEUNG was comfortable with handling a basketball. Most of the time the ball went in, just as it was supposed to. Once, when he missed and the ball bounced off the rim, HEESEUNG kept shooting over and over until it went in. At last, two points. Shooting over and over and hitting the wall until he succeeds? Well, HEESEUNG’s attitude toward the stage is the same. On I-LAND, your older brother said that he’s proud of you now, thinking back to how you used to be this average cute but a little immature kid who liked playing games with friends and didn’t like to study.

HEESEUNG: That time he was talking about, that was when I was really immature. I’m not exaggerating when I say that everything’s changed. This might be a bit off-topic, but I have this one good old friend who I would hang out with and goof around with all the time. It was all really childish, but I’m way more mature now. (laughs) But I do think I should keep growing up more than I am now.

I saw that, when you were doing the group photoshoot, the staff asked you to move to NI-KI’s side, and you asked him first if that was okay before moving.

HEESEUNG: Yes, I did say that. It happened so quickly, I’m surprised you caught it. (laughs)

You didn’t hesitate to help other contestants with their dancing on I-LAND even though you were competing against one another. SUNOO said you’re an “angel.” (laughs)

HEESEUNG: I could try and take all the credit for that, but that’s not really how it was. (laughs) I think that was possible because I-LAND had more challenges emphasizing teamwork than other survival shows. But that aside, I still wanted to help them. When I first became a Big Hit trainee, I practiced really hard for six months and became one of the better performers among the new recruits. I guess it’s probably because I had a lot of opportunities to be the leader from that time on.

Did you have much experience singing or dancing before you became a trainee?

HEESEUNG: I’m still not that good at dancing, but I was absolutely hopeless at the beginning. (laughs) I was really, really bad. It was so bad that my friends would make fun of me for not being able to do even basic moves. They’d say, “Seriously, how did you ever get casted?” But Big Hit’s training regimen is really good. (laughs and stretches arms out diagonally) This is called “arm stretching.” It’s a basic move. This is all I did for a year. And then more than a year of following the rhythm. I focused on basic, repetitive moves like that, then I took baby steps with a dance foundations class, and then with endless practice I finally got a lot better.

You can give hope to hopeless dancers. (laughs) I know that you were always very interested in singing.

HEESEUNG: I dreamed of becoming a singer since I was six, but I totally lacked confidence. Singers need to be able to sing in front of people without feeling nervous, but the most I could do until high school was sing with two or three really close friends at a karaoke. And then my dad suggested I take the entrance exam for an art high school, but I was too nervous during the test to sing anything. I was about to head home thinking I’d better study or choose a different career path when suddenly a casting agent spotted me. I was really lucky.

HEESEUNG: I was heavily influenced by YEONJUN from TOMORROW X TOGETHER when I came to Big Hit. Up until then, I had a sense of pride. I thought, well, I’m pretty good at singing, right? But after I saw YEONJUN, I realized I was totally fooling myself. (laughs) I felt like YEONJUN is the kid who gets perfect in every subject and I’m the one who gets, about 80 in one class and goes around bragging about it. So I thought there’s no room for feeling “not confident or some other nonsense like that” (laughs) I need to really up my game if I want to be a singer. From then on, I tried to really show off everything I’ve got on stage, which is different from how I used to be.

In the “October 2020 by ENHYPEN” video, you set a goal to practice vocals for one and a half to two hours every day. Even with your busy schedule, you’ve been close to 70~80% successful with that goal.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) It’s easy to achieve your goals when it’s something you like to do. I usually put my all into things I like, but I don’t have much motivation to do things I’m not into. I think that’s a strength and also a weakness. To use studying as an example: I lost interest in studying when I was in middle school, so I didn’t put much effort into most subjects, but I liked English because I liked to listen to pop songs. There was a foreign language high school near me that accepted students only based on their English grades and mine were good enough to get in.

All your practice really shows on your debut album, BORDER: DAY ONE. I was impressed by how you expressed each song differently.

HEESEUNG: The lead single, “Given-Taken,” is about facing a new world, and ENHYPEN just debuted as a team, so I wanted to convey a passionate start of a race. You could say it’s mellow since it opens with a harp, but I used all my energy to emphasize the tone. In “Let Me In (20 CUBE),” there’s the lyrics: “Can you open your window / Been looking everywhere for my Nemo.” It would sound kind of weird if I sang, “Open up!” forcefully like that.(laughs) So I recorded my vocals in a way that best conveys the meaning and doesn’t break the mood.

It looks like you have specific ideas about the performances and your music. On I-LAND you recorded the “-note” video diary, and you reflected on various aspects of your performance. It was very impressive the way you could go back and analyze it like that.

HEESEUNG: If you debut, you become a professional. I don’t look like a pro in my performances yet, but I think you become more professional by making deliberate efforts. I think I need to be able to express myself inside and out, so I’m trying to do all different kinds of training.

You mentioned several times that you want to write your own songs this year. Have you written any?

HEESEUNG: When I was in sixth grade, I took a music composition class using a sequencer program my dad recommended, called Cakewalk. I started to write songs again after I became a trainee. There’s a song I worked on until I got into I-LAND, and also some songs I wrote and recorded the lyrics over some existing beats. But we’ve been so busy preparing for the debut. I really regret that I haven’t been able to show off my work. Anyway, I’m going to keep trying to write songs for ENGENE whenever I get time. I just hope they’ll be patient with me.

You said “Merry and the Witch’s Flower” by Yerin Baek is your favorite song. What kind of songs do you usually listen to?

HEESEUNG: As far as genre goes, I’m really into alternative R&B. I also like songs that are dreamy and chill. I listened to a lot of songs by Yerin Baek, Anderson Paak and Eric Bellinger lately. I usually listen to the newest releases to see what people like these days, but I also listen to old hits by 2Pac and the Notorious B.I.G.

In BE:LIFT LAB’s “Training Camp,” you said your personal motivation is the high goals you set for yourself.

HEESEUNG: If I were to say that I want to be at 100, I’m currently at a 30 or 40. I’m absolutely serious. I think I need to try a lot harder if I’m going to reach my full potential. I want to be more than just a set of skills, or an amazing person; I want to make sure I don’t lose myself. The more time you spend on your work, the less time there is to invest in yourself. And if your work takes over your identity, I think you might even find it easy to lose your own sense of self. I want to be the kind of person who can grow while staying devoted to my work.

It reminds me of your performance of “Chamber 5.” Even though I-LAND is a survival program and you could have chosen a song that would have been more advantageous to you, you took on a new challenge solely for self-improvement.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) I was in way over my head. I seriously never tried even a single playful song like “Chamber 5” before in my life. But, obviously, you can’t go back to the past. Anyway, that was my choice. I was preparing for a job where you have to be ready to handle all different kinds of concepts. I took that as a fact and just practiced. And also, I had the magnificent teacher, Mr. SUNOO, right there with me. (laughs) So it was good in the end.

Maybe it’s thanks to that experience that the way you turn around and wink in the “Let Me In (20 CUBE)” performance suits you so well.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) That kind of stuff just comes to me naturally now—basically showing people how charming I am. Was it a bit awkward? (laughs) Songs like “10 Months” are in-your-face cutesy. It was hard at first, but after thinking about my own style the answer came to me. I look mature compared to the other members, so I figured that was the solution to the problem of how to express my charm. Now I am Lee HEESEUNG, a man of endless allure. (laughs)

Before a leader was selected for ENHYPEN, your name kept coming up in the polls under headings like, “the first person you’ll turn to when you’re having a hard time,” or, “the person who won’t hesitate to take difficult tasks for others.”

HEESEUNG: I’m good at listening to other people’s problems. That sounded like bragging. (laughs) If I see someone struggling with something I can fix or help them with, it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch. I don’t go around thinking I always need to help with everything, but I unconsciously act that way.

You’re the oldest member of the group. I can tell the other members trust you, and rely on you. As their oldest teammate, how do you want to be there for them?

HEESEUNG: I hope they don’t think of me as being more important than them just because I’m the oldest. In middle school, high school, clubs, and places like that, I realized that opening up to someone your senior isn’t always easy. So when we became a team, I thought I should be a cute, approachable guy (laughs) and create an atmosphere where they can speak openly with me. Everybody feels comfortable talking to that kind of person.

It seems like you already are. You all looked really close when the others were touching your head without hesitation on V LIVE and saying it looks like the full moon. (laughs)

HEESEUNG: (laughs) Yes, I’m … not thrilled that happened. (laughs) Everyone in the group has their own strong, unique personality, but still, we all try to trust and respect one another, and we set clear boundaries. And as we spend more time together, we share more personal stories, which helps us grow closer.

In “-note,” you thank the people around you and judge your own practice progress objectively while finding the positive aspects. I was impressed.

HEESEUNG: Even though they didn’t show it on the show much, I felt tremendous pressure being in a leadership position. There was so much to deal with. A lot of that was hard, of course, but I believe that people become the things they say they are, so I chose to be thankful and stay positive. If I say it like I believe it, my thinking will change and then I can overcome any difficulty. For artists, fans are important, skills are important, and talent is important, if you want to draw people in. Everything is important, really. I think it’s most important to have a healthy mind if you want to really nail all those things.

What does music mean to you?

HEESEUNG: That’s the hardest question. (laughs) I don’t want to define music in one word. I don’t think there should be just one correct answer to what music is. Because there’s no answer, all kinds of different music gets made, and many different people can be on stage. As soon as there is an answer, music will lose its charm.

[bearpillowmonster]

Neo: The World Ends With You

I'm invested in the original game and its characters, I'm invested in this game and its characters. I've had a lot of time for the original game to marinate and I can say that I enjoy pretty much every character and their arc and while I don't exactly feel the same with this one, that's not disappointing to me and this was my most anticipated game of 2021 so I mean that. This is a sequel, I expected as much and it didn't let me down, it's even better than I thought.

This is a NONSPOILER review because I think it's best experienced by actually experiencing it so I'll keep a lot of character, story, and even gameplay details out other than how the very VERY beginning of the game starts out with Rindo and Fret.

Let me give credit where credit is due, Rindo is voiced by Paul Castro Jr. who is a new voice actor and I was honestly impressed by his voice more than anyone else in the game, I love his voice and while Rindo has some pretty big shoes to fill as the main, I think he does it. Rindo seems to act pretty accordingly to the situation he's put in. He's not as edgy as Neku but he has enough push to him to where he would be considered the "negative" of the group but I would rather call it "rational" because he brings up some valid points, stuff that I myself was asking. Putting yourself in his shoes, that seems pretty accurate.

Fret on the other hand is a bit of the opposite, an optimist if you will. He's not really a "bad" character, just in comparison to the others, he's not my favorite. I think that there needs to be someone in his position who tries to uplift the team, but he's just a little annoying about it sometimes. Also get ready to hear "Galaxy Brain, ACTIVATE!!" literally hundreds of times, as much as he talks, you'd think he'd add more variety.

IMPROVEMENTS:

I'm not going to complain about certain gameplay elements or limitations that carried over from the last game except one. The camera. It's fixed to where you have no control over it in the city areas and therefore can't get a proper look at everything, whether that works in its favor, I'm not sure because you get used to it but it's just a small peeve you start out with.

The combat is pretty loyal to the first game which is surprising. I personally didn't like the original gameplay because it was so limited on the DS, a lot of room for error, but having it on console expands the system and lets you use buttons rather than mashing a touch screen, improving on almost, if not all, gameplay fronts. However, because it's based on a game from 2007, the system may seem a little outdated to some, it's really up to you, it made a fan out of me, making it more fun.

I played the original in bites, not because of lack of enjoyment but because I felt like it was a game I could only get into for so long at a time but with this game it's the complete opposite. Maybe it was the DS hardware that hampered the original but I say it's a decent success on this game's part. I also felt that Persona 5 seemed a bit formulaic in its story context and gameplay layout with each castle but this game, while having patterns, it changes before you get the chance to really catch on. I could predict P5 but I couldn't predict this, each day was a mystery, I knew you'd fight people but I didn't always know who or when which is crazy considering that P5 had all the choices!

A small improvement that I'll suggest for combat is having short rhythm based moves or even QTEs, like how in the original Shiki had the directional pad moves which were annoying but still varied from the rest of the gameplay. There are definitely new things that you can do, but there are a few aspects worth complaining about. You can unlock certain abilities and once you enable them, you can't disable them. The only one that it personally applies with is the ability to enable individual health bars for enemies, rather than an overall one. Which sounds good but-

I personally don't like that it's always floating above their heads, if it was on the side screen, that'd be one thing but constantly above their heads? No deal. I actually had to go back and load up an old save to get rid of it. But with unlocking certain abilities comes with quality of life aspects so if you're not in love with the gameplay at first, give it a little bit because you might be able to unlock whatever piece you're missing.

There's also "soundsurfing" that adds to your groove meter that you can use when running around and it said that you press (in my case "X" on PS4) to the beat of the song which is a cool concept but it really isn't clear how to use it because I try matching the beat and I get nothing and have more success just button mashing. The groove meter can drop when it's not supposed to, like when you literally can't attack during the buffering of a special or switching between battles in a chain (The "Get Ready" screen) And if you're in a proper boss battle, you HAVE to fight, it's like a trainer battle in Pokémon which is especially annoying when you accidentally press "retry". It has no reason to be there when I already know that I'm not prepared for the boss and can't back out.

Do the trailers spoil it?

Originally, I only saw the first and or second trailer and knew I wanted it so there was no reason to see any more but it was kind of overwhelming with all the characters they were showing off in just a single trailer. I don't think they needed to go that far but I understand why they did. I understand why they showed a lot of things that they did but I think it's a bit easier to SWALLOW when it's introduced in-game. I even found myself doing all the side-quests and being engaged in the side-stuff in-game. But I knew about people pointing out spoilers so after I finished it, I went back and looked at the other trailers and OH BOY. The final trailer shows some stuff and I'm SO glad I didn't watch it. They straight up show some out of context death scenes as well as different alliances and betrayals, not to mention parts of the freaking ending. The launch trailer is no better, it's just like that trailer but cut down. You may not have context but you can draw some hefty conclusions and that alone makes me question, why? I'm not sure if there are many reveals that they DIDN'T tease, it's like they went out of their way to hit every single one. Whether it's Square or Nintendo, they need to figure out how to cut a trailer, heck, hire me, I at least have the editing skills and know what's interesting enough to show and what's too spoilery not to show, come on!

Is it newcomer friendly?

I heard a lot of things like "it drops you in without mercy so pay very close attention" (in terms of story, that is) so only people who played the original game will be able to get it. But I beg to differ, I think it does a pretty good job of filling you in while putting you in the shoes of a new player (both in the game and out) AND keeping the mystery of whatever happened since the last game coming in small pieces. Most of the dialogue text boxes are voice acted so it's not really a slog to read. To prove my point further, the premise starts out very similar so it should be easy to clue in what exactly happened in the last game. Of course you're going to get more enjoyment out of it if you played the original but I don't think you'd be totally lost if you started with this one and played to right before the ending because then it kinda has to do stuff without preface, so you're going to be confused by much of the emotional weight that it carries. But it still gives you plenty of time to catch up on the original, whether through the game, videos, or lore, this game has you ask the questions, so fill in the blank. It has a nice length to it so you'll have until the ending to figure it out. Also, Final Remix teased stuff that this game makes clarity on but I wouldn't call FR mandatory. (Except maybe no numbers on the hand? Maybe even I missed something there.)