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starbuckie · 4 years ago

Text

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld

prompt: “we’re divorced?”

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :) this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died.

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England.

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them.

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions.

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.”

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.”

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light.

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel.

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where.

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips.

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice.

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy.

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her.

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity.

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground.

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see.

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.”

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his.

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending.

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky.

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-”

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies.

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’.

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.”

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?”

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?”

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart.

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.”

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.” Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty.

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised.

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.”

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.”

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room.

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!”

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?”

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.”

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed.

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

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courtlyharlequin · 4 years ago

Note

Hey!! I was wondering if i can have a candied rose frappuccino with floyd please. Thanks 😊

Sugar Addict

Warning(s): mild spice, lowkey spicy ending

A/N: I went feral. What is plot? I ended up writing more than expected. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so I apologize for my horrible grammar. Feel free to correct me! I should probably get a beta reader...

Context: This is an AU. Yes, a coffeeshop AU, but some things are different. These characters are aged up and NRC is actually a college.

It was unexplainable, this feeling. Twilight. The sun was setting. Traffic ensued streets as people poured out of work and into their vehicles, all with one destination: home. But for you, home was the last place you wanted to go. You were a student who did not need to fret over something like a job. You had the convenience of asking for a ride or traveling by foot to reach local destinations not far from your oh so prestigious school. At this moment, at twilight, you were experiencing the convenience of the latter. Well, a normal person would not call it a convenience. These days made taking a stroll an absurd pastime. But right now, it was both a convenience and a pastime. The roads were clogged by a massive sea of cars. Your nose crinkled at the stench of gasoline. Choosing to traverse by foot was more pragmatic. You were in a rush as well. Your destination might close any minute now!

From the inside of any of the vehicles on the street, you were akin to a hooligan. A scrambling, mad hooligan. Not only were you running in the opposite direction of where these cars were going, you were also running as your life depended on it. Therefore, you were a crazy person who was running into the city suburbs at a somewhat late hour rather than going home. Mothers in said vehicles shook their heads in dismay, praying their children were safe at home. But, you could not care any less. Night Raven College’s headmaster was very lenient on curfews and was susceptible to bribery if all else fails. But to be fair, your destination was not something to be frowned upon. It was something to laugh at, really. The place you were so desperate to get to was none other than a café.

More specifically, Café Rosé . Cheesy, chessy, yes, you were aware. The café was notorious for their supposed love potion of a latte, but you weren’t coming for that. You wanted to try their Candied Rose Frappuccino. You were a lover of all sweets; You could never live with yourself if you didn’t try it. Of course, this coffee shop was not going anywhere nor was this beverage a limited one. You simply were in the mood for it. It was craving, a whim, a last minute decision.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the café’s exterior walls. With one deep breath, you pushed the rose-tinted glass door open. The chime signaled your entrance. You braced yourself for a barista to question your hazed, flushed state… but it never came. Still heaving, you scanned the shop. You made your way to the counter to check for employees in the back room.

Thud!

“Hey, Shrimpy! Café’s closed,” a voice glowered.

You spun your heel, making eye contact with a barista with a disheveled appearance– his aquamarine hair was slightly unkempt, his tie was unraveled and dangled loosely around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned down to the point where his collar bone was exposed with his sleeves rolled up which furthermore accentuated his lean yet muscular figure. It was all too much to take in. He put his weight onto the nearest table. Ah, the thud came from a chair he just stacked… but nevermind that-!! The moment he moved into that position, he exposed a bit of his cleavage. Hot damn he might be lean at first glance, but he was built like a Greek god. This should be illegal! A barista should not be dressing– let alone be looking– like that. Everyone would suffer from a cardiac arrest from such a heartthrob! You quickly averted your attention to the café’s schedule.

“The business hours sign says you guys close at seven. It’s six fifty-two right now,” you said, holding up your phone.

“Close enough. Get lost.”

He walked over to you suavely, leaning over you and against the door frame to flip the open-closed sign over so that it’s closed side faced the streets. It was meant to be a gesture of mockery and intimidation, but holy hell… you were flustered more than anything. He was tall from afar but up close he was huge!! You even got a better look at his chest. Well defined, if you don’t say so yourself. Wait–

You shoved him back, “Not even for a to-go order?”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it.”

“But you’re not closed yet!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Why?”

“What?”

“I asked you ‘why’?”

“Can’t you just come back tomorrow and let me call it a day? I’m tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I ran all the way here just to get something–”

“Should’ve done it earlier,” he shrugged, returning to his chore.

“Okay. Fine. Is there anyone else here to serve me? Since you’re too ‘tired’?”

“Sorry, Shrimpy, but they all went home.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me something that makes us seem so familiar. I’m not that short anyway...” you huffed.

He snickered, walking behind the register, “Alright then, Shr-im-p-y~! What would you like to order that you just had to come in at the last minute today?”

While you were relieved he gave into serving you a drink, the way he enunciated your unwanted nickname was irksome.

“I’ll have one Candied Rose Frappuccino.”

“Oh thank god it isn’t that latte.”

“You mean the Rosé Latte?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, loudly tapping on the cash register, “Everyone has been flocking here and only ordering that. I’m so tired of making the same order everyday.”

“Sorry, I’m not into hot beverages. Just a person who likes sweets.”

“Cute,” he cooed, handing you your receipt.

You watched as he messily wrote “Shrimpy” onto your cup.

“Can I get your name?” you asked.

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Somehow you’re slowly becoming my favorite barista.”

Partially a lie, partially the truth. He was your favorite because he was so fine. You only wanted his name in case you ever decided to write a review on your bitter first meeting with him or if you came across the manager. Petty, yes, but it annoyed you that much.

“Floyd, Floyd Leech,” he grinned.

You checked the receipt and sat down at the barstools in front of the barista’s worktable, watching him intently as he began to work on your order. Well, half your attention was actually on his hand movements. Your mind was having an internal battle about how shameful you were to fantasize about his back muscles, mentally undressing him. The fact that there were only you two in the coffeehouse did not help either. The silence, at its surface, was calming, but, at its core, it was awkward. With the occasional clinks of utensils and the sound of coffee being brewed and blended into a frappuccino, the lack of noise left your mind to wander.

“Just because he’s good looking does not make up for the fact that he was rude,” you chided yourself.

Floyd cocked his head: “Hey. What are you staring at?”

He looked behind him as if there was actually something of interest. You saw your drink in his hand. He held it close to his chest, withholding it, waiting for your answer.

“Oh? Um.. nothing? I was just zoning out. I’m tired from running all the way here.”

“Shrimpy’s no fun,” he pouted.

“My name is (y/n), not Shrimpy.”

“You’re short, jumpy, and huggable like a shrimp~”

“I am not that short!”

“Oh-!!! You remind me of Goldfish. You both get so mad for some reason,” he laughed.

“Listen here–”

The barista took a swig of your order. He didn’t take the dome-shaped lid out. He didn’t even drink it with a straw. He just… straight up… put his lips on the lid and drank the contents from the rim. You halted your rant, appalled by his audacity.

“You talk too much, Shrimpy.”

In this total silence, someone, if there were someone here, would have heard your sanity and patience snapped.

“Listen here, Floyd Leech. That was awfully rude of you. Actually, from the beginning, you were so rude! From getting into my personal bubble to calling me names when I told you to stop. And now you drink my order? And right in front of me too?! So, so, rude-!!! I just–”

“Wow. What an expansive vocabulary you have,” he glared, twiddling with the collar of his shirt and somehow exposing more of his collarbone.

You leaned over the counter, reaching for your beverage, heat traveling up your cheeks, “I’m not done yet! Just because you’re hot does not mean you can dress like that and automatically get a free pass to do these things! Do you have any idea how distracting that was?? Now–wHAAA!!”

You pounced at him. Your toes hung on the edge of the barstool, your left arm wrapped around Floyd’s neck, and your right arm stretched out in an attempt to reach the drink in Floyd’s hand. Much to your annoyance, he raised it higher than you could ever hope to reach. If he took anymore steps back, you would most likely flop onto the barista’s side of the table face-first. With the drink in his left hand, his weight (and yours) was shifted onto his right arm which conveniently propped itself against the countertop behind him. You wondered what people on the road thought when they saw what was going on inside the café.

It was early evening with a decent amount of cars on the street before the storefront. Nearly twenty minutes since you came into the café and here you are– without your order, curfew approaching steadily, and no sign of getting your frappuccino anytime soon. Instead, you were sprawled across the counter, a test of your flexibility and modesty.

“I didn’t really think Shrimpy was this bold, this naughty,” Floyd chuckled.

Ah shit. Your anger got the best of you. Your verbal filter was removed and all of your thoughts slipped past your conscious and common sense. His sly grin did not help at all. Your close proximity enhanced your blush. The way you clung onto him caused his shirt to slide off his left shoulder and with the position you were in, you had a front seat to all his glory. What a sticky wicket this was.

“I just wanted something sweet to drink,” you panted, fisting his shirt in your petite palms, frustration washing over you.

You were on the verge of tears. Floyd sighed, lowering the cup just a bit, and took a few steps back as he carefully let you slide onto the barista’s side of the counter. However, your beverage was still out of reach.

“You’re such a snowflake,” he mumbled.

You clung to him, still, using him as leverage to reach your order, “Am not. This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me have my coffee!”

“You mean this hell of a sugary confection??”

“Yes? I mean I wouldn’t know because I haven’t even tried it yet,” you grunted, jumping at it like a fish trying to catch the bait.

“Oi, (y/n), can I kiss you?”

That was the first time he used your actual name instead of “Shrimpy” ever since you met. You would rejoice, but the following words were out of the question. His tone made it sound more like a demand than a request of consent.

“Excuse me?!”

“You wanted to try the drink right?”

“Yes, but it’s right there in your hand! So if you would just let me have it, I’ll stop annoying you!”

“The taste is lingering in my mouth. It’s so sweet. I wanna get rid of it…”

“Get some water.”

He squeezed his right arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his face, “But I want to kiss you~!”

“Well, since you drank out of it, if you let me have it, then we can have an indirect kiss!”

The temperature of the coffee shop was just unbearable at this point. And worst of all, this was self-inflicted. You didn’t have to tolerate him. Frankly, you should have left the moment he told you the café was “closed”. You didn’t have to pounce on him and end up in this painstakingly uncomfortable position either. Moreover, you were sweating from embarrassment from your suggestion. An indirect kiss! That was such a childish thing to fret about and here you were, regretting your own words.

“That’s no fun,” Floyd said, taking another sip of your frappuccino.

“Hey–mmpff!!”

Despite how he manhandled you thus far, he kissed you very tenderly. His lips were soft, warm even. As much as you wanted to push him back and scold him for taking away something as precious as your first kiss, you couldn't. Everything just… felt right. Your grip on his shirt loosened. Before, you held them in your palms in anger, a way of intimidation, a sign to show him that you weren’t going to back down even if he was teasing you with no mercy. But now, you held Floyd’s collar to close the space between you two. You were this close to each other, but it wasn’t close enough.

You gasped as he nibbled your lip. Floyd took it upon himself to invite his tongue over to your wet cavern. A sugary substance flooded your taste buds. Ah… he never swallowed your drink.... Not that it mattered. You gulped it in one breath, continuing on with your tango of tongues. If Floyd wasn’t supporting your waist, you might’ve melted away into this temporary bliss. You momentarily broke away from him to catch your breath. The distance between you two was barely five centimeters. He growled lowly, taking two steps forward, pushing you towards the bar. He smashed his lips against yours, a clear sign for you not to do that again. A fire lit in his eyes. Floyd hungrily bit your bottom lip, earning a whimper in response. Without breaking away from your mouth, only turning his head to take you at a different angle, he hoisted you up and set you and the beverage down on the countertop. Now, with both hands free, he cupped your cheeks. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his wrists, drawing away his hands.

“W-Wait…” you exhaled.

“...did you not like that?” he cocked his head.

“No... No… I liked it… I liked it a lot… I just… S-Slow down…”

Floyd reached for the ends of your hair, twirling with the strand, “Take your time…”

Perhaps it was purely the heat of the moment or lust, but you judged him too soon. In this brief period of time, he was being considerate of you. He traced your figure with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at your bruised lips, bright pink from the dozens of kisses he gave you. You were just as disheveled as he was.

“...More..”

“You sure?”

“I’m thirsty,” you pouted.

Floyd let out a chortle before sipping your coffee, “Alright, then Shrimpy.”

You prepared yourself for yet another rough session. Before he took your lips, he smoothed back his hair, revealing his forehead. The gesture caught you off guard thus you stiffened as he brushed his lips against yours. By gods, it was as if he wasn't even trying to be provocative. Was it possible for someone to be this seductive without actual effort? At this rate, you were going to miss curfew..

“Floyd…” you moaned, intertwining your fingers with his as he pushed you down onto the counter.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry...”

“Floyd… No… T-There’s people watching-!!!”

“So?”

“Does that not bother you?!”

“Not when they’ll know you’re mine~”

You sat up, “I’m a bit too shy for that. A-And I would like for my first time to be private…”

You left the last part trail off in embarrassment, fiddling with his necktie which somehow managed to stay on his person despite everything that just happened.

“Oh? Is Shrimpy a virgin?” he teased.

“So what if I am?!”

“Nothing. Just thought a cute Night Raven College girl like you wouldn’t be since you were really good~”

He earned himself a playful smack on the shoulder to which he responded with a sarcastically scoff. This was so unfair...

“How did you know that I went there?”

“Hmm must be because of the shirt you’re wearing underneath that hoodie,” he said, feigning innocence.

Oh. He’s the perceptive type. You didn’t think much of his ministrations (other than them being tantalizing). It seemed that he took note of every detail about you. At this point, you were crimson as a tomato.

“Also, because I go there as well,” he snickered.

You smacked his shoulder once more.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“Different years, probably.”

“Maybe..”

“Also, I’m always stuck at the Mostro Lounge so you can find me there,” he winked.

“Ahhh! Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me two answers and mixed signals.”

Floyd tilted your head upwards and pecked your lips, holding you as if you were a figure of glass: “What about this is mixed?”

“You were terribly rude before… and you probably just want someone to bed with for the night,” you puffed your cheeks.

How your body was betraying you… Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and the fervor was not going to dissipate anytime soon.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, (y/n).”

He raised your hand and pressed a chaste kiss on each individual knuckle.

Oh god. Your heart couldn’t bear it anymore. The way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue made honey taste like summer– hot, overwhelming, but still something to look forward to.

“Since when?” you exhaled.

“Since your first visit to the Lounge.”

He switched to your other hand, continuing the ritual.

“I’ve only been there once.”

“You were such a cute Shrimpy that I couldn’t forget about you~”

“That can’t be right–”

“You just have to accept it!”

“It doesn’t make up for how you treated me before.”

He placed your hands on his cheek, “Sorry, Shrimpy. The scent you released was too irresistible.”

Instinctively, you sniffed your clothes, “I don’t smell anything.”

“It might be just an eel thing*, then. But just so you know, I’ve been trying to find you for a while now. I’m so happy that I did. You’re mine now, Shrimpy. Your smell is intoxicating,” he cooed, leaning closer to your ear, “It makes me go feral~”

You squealed at his sudden remark, unable to regain your composure. Your words melted into gibberish and murmurs as you buried your face into his chest once more.

“You’re such a creep,” you whined.

“You don’t mean that~”

“I don’t…”

“We should get going before curfew though. Help me clean up, will ya?”

“Okay.”

Floyd planted a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, Shrimpy.”

That nickname wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before, huh.

“I’ll reward you once we get to my room,” he snickered over his shoulder as he left for the back room.

Wait– WHAT?!?!?

“H-Hold on-!!”

“Relax, Shrimpy, ’m not gonna do anything to you… not yet, anyway. I’m just sayin’ in case we don’t make it before curfew. Azul needs me for Mostro Lounge tomorrow, he has no choice, but to let me in. If anyone can convince the headmaster, it’s probably him,” he gave you a thumbs up.

“Good to know. But… I’ve been meaning to ask about Mostro Lounge and this café. If you work for Azul then why work here too?”

“He doesn’t pay me. I’m just helping out of obligation.”

“What? How come?”

“He’s my friend?”

“You sound unsure.”

“You made it sound like I’m gullible,” he laughed, stacking the last of the chairs.

“Well? Shall we go, Shrimpy?”

You took his hand without hesitation. This feeling– it was addicting. You only knew him for a less than a day, but it felt right. It felt meant to be... as if you were soulmates.

Bonus:

“Oya? Floyd, what happened to your back? There’s scratches all over it. Are you alright?”

“ s’nothin’, Jade. I just… had a fun night~”

“Please. You and (y/n) were so loud. Please reserve those kinds of activities for somewhere more private– not a dormitory with thin walls,” Azul chided.

His brother’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question it any further. Jade curtly closed his gym locker and headed out towards the field.

Azul followed in suit with a huff.

* Note: Female moray eels release an odor in order to attract males to mate with them

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #mild spice #god help me

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words-for-holland · 4 years ago

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Christmas Admirers Teaser |T.H.

Pairing: Fratboy!Tom x Reader

Summary: Tom Holland and Y/N have never crossed each other’s paths in the 3 years of their college career. but can a silly letter change all that?

Loosely Inspired by Dash & Lily and every other cheesy Hallmark Christmas Rom-Com Movie out there.

A/N: This wont be a series but this story is going to be really long when it’s done but tbh not sure if Im really like how its coming...Ha...ha.. But I’ll still do a taglist for this when it’s completed so feel free to add yourself if you’d like.

Taglist

Wanna Play a Game?

All it took was one bright red letter and four words to intrigue the most beloved, foreign exchange student of New York University, Tom Holland. If his name sounds familiar to you, then you already know the answer to the question that just popped in your head. Yes, not only was Tom Holland a well renowned actor, he was also a student exploring the wonders of college along with his best friend Harrison. Some say he was only attending to prepare for a role, others say he did it to have his fun with sorority girls, and a very small percentage believed he was actually trying to get his degree in theater. Whatever the reason, college life suited him well, being the head of the Beta Gamma Sigma Fraternity, living the bachelors life with a new girl around his arm every week, but it was all the same...until he found that red letter sticking out of an abandoned shelf in the Potter’s Library.

He remembered it clearly, the day he found it. Tom had reluctantly arrived at the Library assuming his mates would be there to actually study for an exam they had this upcoming week. Lord knows if they didn’t pass this final with at least a C this semester, they would surely relive the nightmares with Professor Gonpu in the next. Yet to no surprise, none of them came and ditched last minute as the pool of messages started to flood his phone.

“Great.” Tom muttered to himself as he took a seat at the far right corner of the library. The area was empty, and as he slouched on the wooden chair and pushed it back, the boy hadn’t realize how close to the empty shelf he was. With a single thud, came a small red letter floating above and gently making its way down to his lap. The inviting words peaked his interest, and while he checked both front and back for a name, the letter should have been addressed to...there was none. He unfolded it and read it to himself.

Do you want a play a game?

You seem like the type of person that has nothing better to do, so let’s make it a little more interesting. I wont tell you who I am, but if I deem you worthy...I just might.

Still with me?

I’ll give you five clues to figure out this location. Everything you need is here in the Library. And...if you even think about using that phone, you might as well put this letter back where you found it. After all.. you’re in a library and it’s got all the information you need. Ready?

Tom looked at it puzzled by the words. “Do people actually do this shit?”, he thought to himself. He continued to read on, examining each clue and the 5 lines next to them.

1. You’ll find your first clue, deals with a tragic romance. He had all the money in the world but never ends up with the one he loves.

“Too easy.” Tom smiled to himself as he quickly looked for The Great Gatsby. He referenced the red letter seeing only 3 spaces for the first clue. “Jay” he whispered to himself, as he triumphantly wrote out the words.

2. Know what else is more shitty than dying and not having the love your life? Writing a depressing poem about the love your life dying. Or as Poe would imagine, a beautiful maiden by the sea.

He smirked at the line, knowing fully well the poem that the mysterious letter was referencing, and quickly headed to the poetry section. Tom scanned the row of books, until the black book with white lettering caught his eye. Flipping through the broken pages, he found exactly what he was looking for. “In this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee.” he muttered the lines, a smile slowly creeping up. Tom writes out the word “Lee” in the 3 lettered blank. “Tragic Romance, how typical.” he says to himself. Though his voice was laced with disinterest, it was Tom’s favorite poem, but he’d never tell anyone that.

It continued on this rhythm of deciphering clues and running around the Library like a chicken without a head to figure out what the letter wanted from Tom. He had been so focused that his plan to study for Gonpu’s final and meeting with the fraternity has completely flown out the window. As of now, Tom’s main priority was to find the answers to the letter’s puzzling challenge. Maybe, if he answered it, he would know who the mysterious writer was.

Then it happened. The last clue was solved, as Tom quickly wrote out the final word, examining his work and trying to make sense of what he found. There were no other instructions left on the letter which only made Tom more puzzled. It wasn’t a name. It wasn’t a thing. It was a place on campus. Jay Lee’s Coffee Lounge, the most serene coffee spot you’ll ever find in NYU. It offered all the essentials needed to focus and complete your work all with a side of great cold brew made in house. People say it’s NYU’s best kept secret, but really it’s because students will rarely go since it’s so out of the way.

He made it to the shop after thirty minutes, and stepped into the calm atmosphere. The smell of gingerbread lattes hit him once he opened the doors, and soft chatter between students filled the air. He looked around the area in hopes to find the person who wrote the letter. Perhaps they were waiting for him, but it was unlikely since Tom wasn’t even sure if the letter was written that same day. For all he knew, he could be wasting his time, and yet....it didnt feel like it. Almost as if he felt he was meant to be here.

“Mate, what are you doing here?!” Tom followed the robust British voice as he whipped his head to the counter. His best friend Harrison, dressed in a Jay Lee’s short sleeved shirt.

“Harrison? You...work here?” He asked voice filled with confusion. Not once did Harrison tell Tom about his side job. In fact it was almost offensive to think the blonde hair bloke would even it hide it from him.

“Yeah...I didn’t really tell anyone because well you know, it’s the last place people would expect a frat to be working in. Reputations and all...What about you? I didn’t think this place was your type of thing.” he asked.

“It’s not...” he paused for a moment, debating on whether to tell Harrison what he found. If it led Tom here, Harrison might know who wrote the letter. He hoped it was girl...God he really hoped it was. “Actually, I was at the library today waiting for you divs --”

“Oh yeah sorry mate.” Harrison looked at Tom apologetically.

“No, its fine really. But I found something interesting, and --”

“Tom, if it’s another blonde wannabe model, I --”

“Bloody hell, Harrison just listen to me. I..” Tom paused for a moment to quickly check his surroundings before pulling up the red paper. “I found this red letter. Made me go on bloody goose chase and led me here. You dont happen to know anything about this do you?”

Harrison took the letter and examined it thoroughly reading the lines word for word and the notes Tom made next to them. He was just as intrigued, but unfortunately shook his head, unsure of the answer to Tom’s question as well. “Sorry, Mate. I have no clue. Never seen anyone here writing out a red letter before.”

Tom held the letter, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this it? Did he really just waste a whole 3 hours in the library and 30 minutes worth of gas for nothing? “I just dont understand.” he muttered.

“Look if you really think the person that wrote this letter wanted you to be here, why don’t you just write a message in it and post it on the corkboard? Im working the entire week, so I’ll keep an eye on who grabs it and let you know.“

It didnt seem like a half bad plan, Tom nodded in agreement and grabbed a pen from his bag, writing his reply in the empty space, the mysterious writer was so kind enough to leave. He posted it on the corkboard, and turned back to his friend.

“Dont forget.” Tom pleaded.

“I wont mate.”

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

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firefly464 · 4 years ago

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The Gilded Cage - Chapter 3

I felt like you guys could use some nice fluff after yesterday, so we zoomed to get this chapter out. Also, oh my god i have so many ideas im so excited ahahahahah

ALSO!! IMPORTANT NOTICE!!! The first section of Chapter 5 of The Real World has been edited slightly. I recommend you go back and reread it :)

Written in collaboration with @i-have-this-now :D

Thank you @rivys for beta reading, editing, and writing :D

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

“Alright then, Eret. Talk to me.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself. “George, it’s all…” he trailed off, unable to explain exactly what he was thinking. “What… what happened to me?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

George scoffed. “Did you not hear me when I said you got shot? Did you miss that bit?”

Bad hit him lightly on the arm. “George! That’s not how you support a friend through a trying time!”

“What?! I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Eret, here.” Bad moved himself over on the bed to sit right next to Eret. “We found you passed out in the woods with an arrow sticking out of your arm, so we brought you back here and patched you up.”

“You also were nearly frozen to death. Honestly, I think the reason you didn’t bleed out sooner is because the blood froze over or… something.” George shrugged, a little too nonchalant for Eret’s tastes. “I dunno, I’m not a doctor.”

Bad frowned. “That reminds me… Why were you even out there without a coat? It’s the middle of winter!”

“I- what?” Eret asked, caught off guard by the question. Hadn’t it just been mid summer? He shook his head. He was in some sort of fucked up world, why was he surprised by a change in seasons?

Even so, it made sense. It explained why he had passed out in the first place. After all, running through the woods in the dead of winter without anything to protect him from the cold was a surefire way to give himself hypothermia. Thinking back on it, it was surprising that he managed to last as long as he did. Any longer, and he very likely would have died.

George cleared his throat, dragging Eret back to the present. He realized that his friends were looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I uh…” He stammered, trying to come up with a decent excuse. “I didn’t exactly have time to grab a jacket. They were kinda chasing me out…”

George’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Bad’s let out a small gasp of surprise as he realized what Eret meant. He quickly stood, trying to take the heat off his friend. “Well, you don’t need to worry about them now!” he exclaimed, trying to hint to George that now wasn’t the time. “Here, how about we get you situated? Do you want something to drink?”

Eret stared numbly up at him. “Why are you being so… nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Bad stated as though it were fact. “And you deserve it. Come on, I’ll make some cookies, and you can rest while I do that, okay? George, give him your jacket.”

“What?!” He sputtered. “Bad, I’m not giving him my--”

“Give it.” Something in Bad’s eyes must have made George decide to change his mind right then. The man nodded and grabbed a coat from a nearby hanger and chucked it over to Eret.

Almost instinctively, Eret tried to raise his arm to swat away the incoming coat. Pain tore through him, causing him to let out a small gasp.

“Hey, careful! You don’t want to tear your stitches,” Bad said quickly, rushing to check that the stitches were undamaged. “You’re still healing.”

Eret only watched as his friend undid the bandages that wrapped around his bicep, trying not to wince. His eyes widened when he saw the torn skin, slightly swollen around the places where string held it together. It wasn’t red or bloody, in fact, it looked like it was at least a few days old. He frowned.

“How long was I out?” He asked.

“A day, maybe?” Bad held out his hand towards George, not looking away from the wound. “Could you grab some of the gauze I just prepped? I might as well replace it.”

Eret frowned as he watched George walk out of the small, curtained room. He could hear the sounds of shuffling in what he assumed to be the kitchen.

“A day…?” He asked, glancing down at the scar on his arm. The faint, red line looked several days old, with only a minimal amount of swelling around it. There was no way it had only been a day. Injuries just didn’t heal that quickly. “How is it healing so fast?”

“We tried our best to close the wound as quickly as possible. It would have been better if we had been able to get to you sooner, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” Bad sighed. “It didn’t help that you were half frozen to death, so we needed to take care of that first before we could even begin thinking about your arm -- hey George! Grab some regen pots while you’re out there please!”

“Splash potions or normal?” George called from beyond the curtains.

“Normal. We’ve already taken care of most of the outer damage. Now it’s just a matter of getting back all that blood he lost”

Eret sat in confusion, his gaze darting back and forth between the shadow creature in front of him, and the curtain. “That uh… That doesn’t explain how this looks a week old.”

“Well, your buddy Bad knows a thing or two about healing people,” the demon chuckled. “I soaked the bandages in healing potions so that your wound would close up safely.”

Eret stared at the scar on his arm in wonder. “Holy shit, Bad, that’s genius.”

“Language!”

He looked down, having the courtesy to at least look somewhat ashamed “Sorry…”

“It’s alright, you muffin,” Bad laughed. “Didn’t I tell you guys to use this technique already? You know it’s really not healthy to just drink health potions, right? Have you not been taking care of yourself?”

Eret grimaced. “Well, it wasn’t exactly… common in L’Manberg, per se?”

Bad’s face fell. “Don’t tell me. Did Wilbur forget? I know I told him how to!”

“I honestly have no clue,” Eret shrugged. It wasn’t technically a lie, he really didn’t know, but the reason why was entirely different than the implication.

Bad nodded, pride shining on his face. “Well, Eret, I can guarantee you that as long as you stay here with us, we’ll take good care of you.”

~~~

Eret woke slowly and peacefully, a surprise to everyone in the community house. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of a knocking in the doorway, and was startled to see Bad tapping his knuckle against the wall, a plate in his other hand.

“Heya, sleepy-head!”

“What are you--” Eret sat up and rearranged his pillows to support his aching back. “What are you doing?”

The demon grinned. “I’m bringing you cookies, what does it look like?” He sat the plate he was holding down on Eret’s nightstand with a clink.

Eret stared, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Lots of reasons!” Bad replied, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket. “I figured you weren’t feeling too great, so I wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up!”

“Oh.”

“Plus, cookies taste better than potions, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and put the regeneration potion into the cookies.”

“Oh.”

“You have to make sure you eat all of them, okay? Doctor’s orders! I made sure to keep it a small batch so you wouldn’t get stuffed.”

“Oh...” Eret could only stare at the six perfectly round cookies sitting on the plate next to him. This was real, physical proof that somebody here cared about him -- really cared.

Why?

Eret couldn’t think of a good reason why anyone here should care about him. He had betrayed L’Manburg, or so everyone in this world thought. He was untrustworthy. He could turn on his friends at any moment. It would have been in Bad’s best interest to leave him freezing out in the snow, to leave him to die, but he hadn’t. Bad had done the opposite. So--

“Why?” he muttered.

The demon furrowed his brow. “Why what? What do you mean?”

“Why do you…” Eret stared down at his hands, unsure of what exactly he felt. “Why do you care? You have no reason to, I-- I’m a traitor. For all you know, I could turn on you, I could stab you in the back, I could...” he trailed off, not daring to finish his sentence.

A small scoff sounded from the open curtain. “Please, you wouldn’t do that.”

Eret glanced up. George was once more standing in the makeshift doorway, his arms crossed in front of him. “You’ve already invested way too much into this, you wouldn’t just throw it away. Besides, I like to think of it as a double agent. Sounds much cooler than being a traitor.”

Bad turned and faced George with a disappointed frown. “George.”

“What?” The man glanced around nervously. “I’m not wrong.”

Bad sighed and faced Eret once more. “Well, I guess…” He trailed off, seemingly deciding what words fit his answer best. “I think that everyone deserves to have someone that cares about them. And I already cared about you before I found you in the snow.”

“Besides, we all knew what would happen once you pressed that button,” George added, a soft smile on his face. “We all accepted it, and we knew what would happen. You weren’t the only one in the final control room. We’re in this together.”

He could only watch as Bad took a seat on the side of his bed.“You’re our friend, Eret. You still deserve love, and a warm bed, and some nice cookies, no matter what you’ve done. And I want to be able to give that to you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

Eret blinked hard, trying to clear away the tears that threatened to spill over. “Do you mean that?”

A warm smile crossed his face. “Of course! Besides, I may have not approved of your plan, but I still vowed to stay neutral. I knew that this was going to happen, and I’m here to help you through it.”

Eret gave up. The dams he had put up broke, and tears began to stream down his face. He tackled his friend and held him in a tight hug, not daring to let him go. It was slightly strange, considering the fact that his friend was some sort of shadowy-demon monster, but it didn’t matter. The hug was still filled with warmth and love.

It was enough to make a traitor cry.

He could feel a second pair of arms wrap around them as George nestled his head in the space between the other two’s bodies and let out a content sigh. Their tangle of limbs was slightly awkward, but none of them cared. Both George and Bad were too focused on trying to support their friend, and Eret wasn’t focused at all.

Bad rubbed Eret’s back, trying to comfort him as much as he possibly could. Eret’s throat was too tight for him to say what he meant just then, but he hoped that this embrace said it for him.

Thank you.

~~~

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#this chapter is so self-indulgent #i just wanted fluff #thats it #thats the only reason this chapter exists #eret #the_eret #badboyhalo #georgenotfound #dreamsmp #dream smp #dream team #dreamteam #bbh #mcyt #The Gilded Cage #Split Realities #mcyt au #my writing #the real world

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

Text

The Freedom of Being Yours

This was a commission done for the wonderful @creativecilla Im so excited that its finally done and I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for commissioning me and putting up with all my questions lol.

Pairing: Reds/Blossick (Brick x Blossom)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Word Count: 7.8k (this was meant to be a 1k fit but I couldn’t resist!)

Angst/Fluff

Note: thank you to my betas for all their help: @over-under-through1 and @avesthetea

---

On November 17, 1898, early in the morning, a baby girl was born. A soft tuft of red hair rested on her temple and instead of a shrill cry, only a smile was on her small little lips. The only word to define the pink-eyed darling was perfection. There was nothing that could dull the light that sparkled in her eyes.

At the beginning of the year, where she would turn five, everything had been fine. She got to sit and play with her two younger sisters and listen to them babble about nothing as the small creek in the back of their house flowed softly over the rocks.

Life was delicate and sweet. Her mother and father would adore her with presents and toys and even the occasional jewel, yet they often found her perched under a tree or hidden at the creek with a book, much too big for anyone her age to be reading.

Blossom had thought about the stories of travel and adventure. It was freeing and delightful and she had once believed that she and her sisters would live those same lives, of their own deciding. She wanted to see the world and not the same backdrop of her tiny town. Her life would be filled with all sorts of adventures.

But she had been wrong.

Instead of playing outside, she was forced into the study with books that didn’t spark her imagination like the ones before. Her mother was keen on her looking her best and forced her ginger hair into a tightly pulled ponytail or braid and her father wanted her to be enlightened but only because she was the oldest and he didn’t have the luxury of a son.

Just a little before her fifth birthday, she had taught herself to read high literature and how to write complex sentences and even beat out her father in a game of chess. She had also learned from a young age that she would not have the freedom of her sisters, a hard pill to swallow for such a young girl.

♥♥

As the candles became lit on her fifth birthday, everything changed. She was allowed a very small group of friends, yet she hadn’t recognized the boy coming over to her table. He said nothing as he set the pretty pink present down with everything but amusement. His frown was consistent throughout the night and although most noticed his attitude, Blossom couldn’t help but stare at his eyes.

They were the shade of a freshly cut ruby and just as stone cold. Through the blank stares of all the attendants, his was by far the most interesting. They rivaled and complemented the majestic pink of her own iris’s.

He hadn’t said anything to her until he found her sitting away from the party, hidden behind the house with a book open. He thought she had been weird, what little girl missed her own party? He should have turned around but he found himself standing in front of her, toes almost touching.

“You can read?” He blurted out and the soft color of pink graced his presence.

Blossom looked up and her eyebrows drew in. “Taught myself.” She spoke proudly and was slightly surprised when he sat down next to her. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and held her eye roll. “Because it's my party.”

The boy shrugged. “Fair enough. It’s Brick.”

“Brick.” She whispered to herself. “Why did you come out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?”

He glanced towards the creek. “Shouldn’t the birthday girl be entertaining her guests?”

She closed her book before getting up and smoothing out her light pink dress. “I suppose.” He got up and followed her to the house.

Before they reached the porch, they could hear the commotion from inside and Brick noticed the annoyance on Blossom’s face but chose not to say anything. Even with their young age, they both knew not to speak up and out.

As they walked through the entrance of the house, Brick spotted a chess set in a smaller room off to the side. He gently tugged on her sleeve making her turn as he nodded towards the board.

“You play?” He asked and she only smirked and picked up a piece.

“I'm the best.” She challenged, and soon they were engaged in a long game of chess, ignoring the rest of the party.

Her eyes sparkled as she picked up a piece, her shoulder straightened as she looked into his eyes.

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked and for the first time that night, his lips turned up into a small smile as he reset the board.

♥♥

The older Blossom got, the tougher her parents were. The yelling and the scolding had become so much that when it occurred, she had learned to take it with a stoic face and never let her lips quiver even as she was breaking inside.

The demands to be perfect in every aspect had led her to be a sufficient dancer, baker, and everything else a lady was meant to do. From the time the sun rose to its setting, she was given a constant stream of scolding which left little time with her sisters

She had thought that she had become a master of hiding her emotions when she had turned fifteen. Her mind was taken over by books and knowledge she found rather useless. The friends she had were more of annoyances as she kept to herself most of the time. If she wasn’t using the same three books to escape her life, she was down by the creek or walking along the rose gardens of her family's estate.

It wasn’t until a random visit by Brick's family got her attention. She came down the stairs and saw him standing there, his brothers already out in the back paying her sisters attention. It had been a few years since she saw him at a summer party, they had played chess for most of it but other than that, their friendship was surface level at best.

“Brick.” She said as kindly as she possibly could praying that he didn’t notice the redness around her eyes and the flush of her cheeks.

He gave her a slight nod. “Blossom.”

She noticed that he had grown taller, just a few inches over her and that puberty was treating him well. Even though he looked slightly unrecognizable, those eyes of crimson were still the same.

Without another word spoken between them, they followed their parents to the living room that had a grand fireplace. She took her seat next to her mother on the couch, just opposite of Brick who rested in an armchair near his father. A chill ran down her spine as she knew what they would be discussing. Brick tried to catch her eye, maybe to go for a game of chess or to the book room but she avoided him just as her mother spoke up.

“I think now is as good as anytime to discuss this.” Her mother said and Brick’s parents agreed.

“Blossom, Brick. After her eighteen birthday, you will be married by spring.” Blossom’s father said sternly.

She felt her body go rigid as the words flooded her mind. Slowly her eyes made their way to Brick’s. He was also frozen and his lips were pulled into a tight line. She could see the way his fists clenched the chair and her soul nearly left her body when he met her gaze.

She tried searching his face for any form of emotion. Anger, sadness, whatever he was feeling, he wasn’t going to show it. But for some reason, her heart sank when he stood and nodded before excusing himself and leaving the room.

Blossom’s mother turned towards her. “You should go.” She said coldly before turning back towards the others. She stood with silence and left.

She found him in the kitchen. A glass of water in his hand and him looking out the window. It was clear as day that he was angry and upset. She couldn’t blame him. Every aspect of their lives had been planned out and she was a fool to expect that she would marry for love.

His shoulder became tense as she stood next to him, taking a glass for herself. They were silent, what could you say? It was a hard pill to swallow at their age and it seemed as if the threads of their personal freedoms were being cut faster and faster.

As much as Blossom abided by her parents wishes, she knew deep down, this was where lines were drawn. She took a deep breath as she looked out the window. She saw her little sister, Bubbles, running after a dragonfly while Buttercup pushed Brick’s brother down. Brick’s blonde brother watched Bubbles spin and laugh and smiled with her.

Blossom watched and her own smile came to her face. The image of her little sisters marrying someone they loved and cherished, melted her heart but reality came back to her as she glanced towards Brick.

“You’re free to go.” She whispered, his head snapping towards her and meeting the pink eyes.

“What?” He asked.

“I won’t force you to be mine. No matter our parents wishes, you are free to do as you please.”

He let out a dry laugh. “You know that’s not possible.”

“Maybe not.” She felt her tears coming but pushed them down. “We can be, or well, we will be married but you do not have to give your heart over to me, I won’t be angry.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”

Blossom looked away and back to her sisters. “You are free to do as you please. Court any lady you seem fit. My parents might hold you by a chain but I won’t. All I ask is that by the time we are to be wed, nothing is shown to the public to cause a scene or you find a way out.”

Brick thought about it before finishing his drink. “Same to you.” He extended his hand to her and she nodded before shaking it and sealing their deal.

He eyed the front room. “Game of chess?” He smirked.

“Don’t get mad when I beat you.” She matched his expression before passing him and heading to set up their board.

♥♥

As months rolled on, Brick was at Blossom’s estate more and more. Their parents were so content with them being together that parties would be hosted almost every other week, and when Blossom turned sixteen, they had announced the engagement.

They each were given a ring that would be exchanged at the wedding. She stayed up that night, tossing and turning in her bed as she held the box. The golden band that was meant for him was stunning to the random eye but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Unlike the pristine gold, it looked like a rusted chain one would put on a prisoner. It didn’t scream beauty or wealth to her but mocked her like a dog left in the rain. She had thought about going into town and meeting with other potential suitors, maybe even rekindling a few friendships from her younger years, but the further she fantasized about falling in love, the more pain was brought to her heart.

The days after her sixteenth birthday had left her with nothing but a hollow heart and false realities. It became very clear that she would hurt herself more in the process of finding her heart than to sit quietly. She closed the ring box and put it into her desk and wiped away her bitter tears.

There was no point in wishing on stars if they all died and fell from the sky.

----

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked as she placed the final piece on the chess board.

Brick only scoffed before rearranging the pieces, another game after another. Chess and checkers was a small escape from their harsh reality. He made a move and then she did hers. Back and fourth is how it went. By the fourth game, they had an even score and her eyes would find the window again.

She didn’t know if Brick had started looking around for other girls in secret but she didn’t bother to ask, it didn’t matter anyways. As he made a move, she studied his face. He was handsome no doubt and extremely smart too. One of the only people to match her in everything and there was a sense of comfort in knowing she could quote something from a book and he would match it without hesitation. She knew he wouldn’t have a problem finding a partner to keep him company, it would be better that way.

“Bet the creek is cold.” He said randomly and brought her from the wild thoughts.

Her eyes met his and she only placed her piece down gently. “I wouldn’t know.” She quipped. She had never once let herself go into the small river, she could only imagine the uproar her mother would have if she found her doing something fun.

Brick looked towards the clock before standing. “Our parents are still in town for another two hours, even if they leave now.” She hadn’t understood what he was asking before he held his hand out.

Her eyes widened at the thought of her disobeying her parents orders and yet her fingers wrapped around his and soon she was running behind him towards the hidden creek on the east side of the house. The wind wrapped through her long hair and she felt like she could breathe clearer than ever before.

Giggles escaped her lips as he jumped down from the path and onto the small bank before turning and kicking off his shoes. She looked around to see an easier way to get down. Her dress would cause problems if she were to jump and she was scared of hurting herself.

Brick saw the hesitation in her and stepped forward with his arms stretched out.

“Blossoms just jump.” He said before widening his stance to show he would catch her.

Her eyes widened at the statement. “No, I can’t.” Her voice shook and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on. I promise I’ll catch you.”

She gulped. “Promise” And when he nodded, she believed him. His small smile gave her ease and Blossom took off her flats before tossing them down next to his.

She took a breath before letting her feet come off the ground. Right as a small scream left her lips, she felt a sensation she had never encountered before. This idea and embodiment of immunity came over her as she leapt. She felt like nothing bad could ever happen as she fell into his arms with ease.

A strange embrace of warmth she never quite experienced rushed through her as he tightened his hold on her, carrying her like a precious flower.

“Hey.” He whispered, his voice never being this soft as her eyes opened to see the swirl of red closer than before. Her breath had caught in her throat as he had a smile on. He rarely smiled but when he did, she thought it was the most enchanting thing she had ever seen. “See? Caught you.”

A laugh came out as he began to walk and she buried her face into his neck, praying that he didn’t drop her. “Don’t let me go.” She warned him and she felt the vibration of his laugh.

“Relax. Open your eyes.” He whispered in her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was him looking at her. The sun glowed behind him like some sort of halo and her breath caught in her throat when he gave her a smile. She hadn’t realized just how many freckles kissed his skin in the summer sun and she blinked and brought herself back from getting lost in his eyes.

She gazed at the surroundings and saw that his feet had disappeared into the shallow water. Slowly she stretched her legs out until she felt the cool water kiss the tips of her toes. It had shocked her slightly as she forced her foot into the water to stand with him, his arm still around her waist as she held the rim of her dress to not let it get soaked.

“It's cold.” She giggled and she took a step and felt the slippy feeling of the rocks below her. Slowly she walked out of his grasp and carefully went further.

“Don’t slip.” He called from behind as he followed.

Blossom smiled to herself as she looked at the water and saw small fish swimming around. She had never known what flowers grew along the bank or how the breeze was stronger down here.

Her eyes found the clouds rolling above them and she took a step before she felt her foot slid up and found herself falling backwards.

“Ahh-” She let out before she felt the familiar pair of arms holding her up just above the water.

“Told ya to be careful Pink.” He smirked and she only rolled her eyes as he lifted her up and carried her towards the bank.

“I could walk ya know.” She protested but his grip tightened as he stepped over a few small logs and set her onto the sand.

“You would fall again.” He laughed before it fell into the normal frown. “We should head back before our parents return.

The sensation of immunity had faded as she grabbed her shoes and followed him back towards the house which felt colder than the water. That night she laid awake in her bed. The ceiling texture mimicked the way the ripples on the water’s surface and she hugged her blanket to her chest as she kept the memory of joy in secret. It was the first thing her parents couldn’t take from her.

♥♥

After that moment at the creek, the pair began to sneak off more and more as their parents went to town. The chess board was left untouched as they ran towards the river or found hidden garden spots.

It was liberating even if it was as simple as blowing the fuzz off a dandelion. They would run and twirl in the fields, playing like two small children on a summer's day before they fixed their hair and returned to their chess board, keeping their outings a secret.

She learned about his dreams and his deepest fears. Sailing the world and snakes, to be exact. She showed him how to braid his hair and when he wasn’t looking, she would place small flowers in between the strands.

For some reason every time she saw his family arriving at the gates or her own going to his estate, she felt ecstatic. Maybe it was because he was the only one in her world who understood her but even through the sarcastic statements or small taunts, she enjoyed spending time with him more and more.

♥♥

Another year passes by and then another. And before the new set of snow could fall, it was her eighteenth birthday.

She stood in her mirror, still looking at the crack she made all that time ago. She pushed away any thoughts that damn crack dared to resurface and care more about fixing her hair. Pulling her long waves into a ponytail, she wrapped her red ribbon around it. Out of all the jewels and fancy items, this simple silk was her most prized possession. A reminder of her happier days when she was little.

Her pink gove fit her like a perfect chiffon glove and she had to admit that she looked beautiful. She never took much pride in her vanity but on occasion, she would spoil herself with an indulging complement.

A deep breath was taken as she left her room and walked slowly to the stairs where a house full of guests awaited. As soon as her foot hit the bottom of the stairs, a round of applause filled the room and it took her a second to realize that they were clapping for her. Pink dusted her cheeks as she gave a small curtsity and was pulled in every which way to be congratulated on another year of life.

Like her other parties, she barely knew the people there and most were well above her age. She took herself to the ballroom where many guests had already taken up the floor and were spinning and laughing as the music played.

A tap was on her shoulder and she felt relieved knowing that he was here but her heart sank as it was someone she hardly recalled.

“Blossom.” He smiled politely and held out his hand.

Her smile was pulled into a thin line as she took his hand, her mother taught her never to decline a dance. He pulled her closer than what she had liked and smiled at her again.

“Jared.” She said through gritted teeth as she did her best not to groan. She remembered him from random encounterings at other parties. Loud and obnoxious and arrogant, yet he didn’t have the brains to back any of it up. He liked to bother Blossom on occasion and unfortunately, now was the time.

His hand rested on her back, lower than what should have been acceptable. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they danced.

“Ya know Blossom, I heard about your engagement.Congrats”

“That was announced years ago.’ She said sharply. As they danced, she saw Brick across the room. He was dancing with some girl she hadn’t seen.

The girl laughed loudly as she pulled him closer and Blossom couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or not, but after the third eye roll, she predicted the latter. Something inside her felt odd as she watched her move her hand to his neck and whisper something.

In a flash, as if he knew, Brick turned his head and their eyes locked. She watched as his eyes narrowed slightly before Jared took her ungiven attention.

Jared chuckled. “And yet he’s dancing with another woman.” He leaned in so that only she could hear what he said next. “You still have a few months until the wedding and no one has seen you two being all that close.” He smirked. “I’d doubt he’d mind.” And she felt his hand travel lower.

Blossom gasped and pushed herself off of him. “Are you out of your mind?” She sneered before lifting her hand and bringing it to his cheek. The sound echoing across the room for everyone to hear and suddenly all eyes were on her and the boy holding his cheek. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I offer you a good time and this is what I get?” Jared scoffed.

Blossom huffed before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She glanced to the side to see Brick next to her. He looked angry and annoyed.

“I suggest you apologize to her.” Brick stated.

Jared’s eyes widened in fear. “Look man I didn’t mean anything towards your girl.” he held his hands up in defense.

Brick took a step forward. He was clearly a few inches taller and a bead of sweat formed on Jareds forehead. He looked down on the now shaking boy. “The fact that you think I would be entitled to her is foolish. No matter her status or anything personal, you don’t just force yourself on a woman or anyone for that matter. So I would be on my knees begging for forgiveness.” He took him by the collar. “And if you ever disrespect my future wife again, I’ll throw you to the wolves.”

Jared’s face turned a sickly white color as Brick removed his hands from him and took a step towards Blossom.

“My apologies Blossom.” Jared looked at his feet.

A smile came onto Blossom’s face. “Get out.” She hissed before turning and holding her head up high. She passed a butler. “The party is done.”

“Of course Miss.” The butler said as he started to escort the guests to the front of the house.

Blossom passed her parents without an explanation and headed outside where the sun had begun to set. All she wanted to do was clear her head as she rested against a random wall. She brought her hand up to her hair and let the long waves fall around her shoulders. Tears threatened to spill but she didn’t want any of that.

“I never got a dance.”

Blossom looked to see Brick standing there.

“What?” She questioned. “Oh. Sorry.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t worry. Sorry your party got cut short but nice punch.”

She forced a smile while staring at her hand. “Thanks, he deserved it.”

“Without a doubt.”

She saw that his elastic was around his wrist and his hair was down and out of place. Without thinking, she took it and began to braid his hair. He didn’t say anything but let her do as she pleased. She got to the end and saw the small bush of white daisies and grabbed one, plopping it into his hair and standing back in front of him.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

A cooler breeze came by making her hold her arms. “Um, thanks for standing up for me.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He shrugged and saw the saw she shivered slightly. He took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. “But I guess you could make it up with a dance?” He held out his hand and she took it.

“I didn’t think you wanted one.” She said lightly She went back to the girl who had kept him occupied all night. She was gorgeous no doubt and even from across the room, Blossom could tell she was drowning in wealth.

Brick narrowed his eyes before he caught on. Realization flooded his face as he spun Blossom. “You mean Princess.” He sounded disgusted to say the least.

“I guess. Friend of yours?”

“A fling in the past if you could even call it that.”

“Oh.” Her voice just above a whisper. “She seems nice.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, Blossom coming back from the spin and her chest flush against his. “I wouldn’t call bragging about her dad's money nice. More of an air head that got lucky to be born into money. She can’t even play chess.”

“But she’s pretty.” She mumbled.

Brick moved his hand from her upper back to her lower back and leaned until his lips touched her ear. “Beauty isn’t everything, I prefer depth.” Suddenly she was spun and her back to his chest. “But I think your beauty beats all.”

Her cheeks heated up and she brushed away the compliment. “Depth can get you in trouble.” She responded just as she faced him again. “Pretty things can give you money...freedom too.”

He lifted her arm and she spun under him. He then closed their gap before dipping her gracefully. “Sometimes freedom is right where you are.” He spoke sincerely and when she came back up, he was barely a inch away. His eyes had softened and the way his lips turned into a smile made her heart beat rapidly.

The way he looked at her, was almost canny to the day at the creek. Something within her was pulling her closer to him like a magnet and she couldn’t bear to stop herself.

“I’d never let another man talk to you like that, I promise.” He said softly.

And then she did the unthinkable and kissed him. It was a magnifying spark that coursed through her body and broke down whatever wall she had been holding. But when she realized what she had done, an uncertain silence froze over them and saw the way his eyes widened in what she could only sense as fear.

“I-I’m sorry-” She tried to say but was cut off by his lips coming to hers again. Her hands fell to his shoulders, one cupping his cheek as he pulled her closer. His lips were soft and it was like time had stopped in that moment. Everything bad that had happened in the past, melted away like the snow bringing in a spring she never knew she craved.

His lips were soft and left a cold longing feeling as he pulled away, nose brushing hers. “You never have to apologize, I am yours.”

The tears she was going to shed in anger had turned to pure bliss but as she was about to confess her heart to him, the door opened and she heard the loud shouting of her mother.

Fear sunk in as she watched her mother come from the corner. “Blossom.” She said with spitfire and Brick’s hold tightened on her. “You two are done.” She snapped.

“What?” Blossom shook in his hold.

“Jared’s father said he wouldn’t press charges in exchange for Blossom’s hand.” She smiled wickedly. “I’m sorry Brick, you’re a nice boy but sometimes life isn’t fair and plus, he has more money. The wedding is off.” Her mother spat and left leaving Blossom and Brick with mouths hanging open in shock.

Brick held her. “Blossom?”

“I can’t marry him.” She shook her head.

When his eyes met hers, his heart broke. The bright pink he had grown fond of over the years had seen to fade. It was replaced by a stone cold gaze that only broke on occasion.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “You won’t. I promise.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Blossom!” Her mother's voice called. “Come here!”

They looked towards the call and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She started to walk. “But for the record, you made the darkest corners of this house feel bright.”

Brick stood in the garden frozen as she left. His own eyes betraying him as tears danced on his waterline. He heard his own name being called behind him. He returned to his parents side, still feeling the spark of the kiss lingering on his lips.

♥♥

She closed the door to her room before she turned until her back was pressed against the wood. Slowly she slid down and hugged her knees to her chest. The tears that came came from an emotion she had never experienced before. As if all the breath in her lungs was gone, she sobbed.

She lost count of the amount of times she had sat with no light but moons and sobbed. The pain her parents had caused her. The insults and ridicule, all of it would be gone by the time the sun would kiss the horizon but this, this cold chill that made her feel hopeless. It was far worse than their taunts.

The way Brick had stared at her. His eyes slightly wide as if he was shocked by how she looked. His expression when he saw her had changed over the years and she wished she had noticed sooner.

But now it is gone. Her parents made sure of that. It was all a game. Her parents had laid out their chess board, counting their moves and every time she felt like she had a chance, she was forced back into her corner as they picked up the piece and moved it themselves.

But for that split second that she looked into his eyes, the game had stopped. The old grandfather clock that hung on the wall had silenced its ticking and she, for however long she got to gaze into those crimson eyes, saw freedom.

And now it is gone. The small gleam of light she saw within him had been extinguished before it had a chance to grow into a blooming fire.

“Blossom?” A voice called behind her.

She picked up her head and whimpered.

“Blossy?” Another voice said again and she brought her hand to her eyes as she stood with shaking legs and opened the door. Bubbles and Buttercup stood with concerning looks before walking in and shutting the door.

“Blossy-” Bubbles hugged her tight. “Why are you crying?” She asked with her own sadness.

The last thing Blossom wanted was her sisters to be upset, so she shook her head and forced a smile that they didn’t buy at all. “I’m okay.”

“Clearly not. What happened?” Buttercup asked as they sat Blossom on the bed. “The party ended all of a sudden and no one knows why. Was it because of Brick?”

“No!” Blossom reassured her. “It wasn’t his doing.”

“Oh, then why are you upset? Did he not want to be with you?” Bubbles hugged her.

Blossom hugged her back. “No. He did. And I wanted to marry him too.”

“But?” Buttercup asked.

Blossom took a deep breath. “Mother decided that another man would be better for me, one that I don’t love. It’s a hard pill to swallow but I’ll be okay.” She tried to be strong.

“That’s not fair!” Bubbles weeped. “Blossy you deserve to be happy.”

Buttercups fists tightened at her side. “It's not.” She got off the bed. “Come on Bubbles, Blossoms had enough tears for the night.”

Blossom gave her little sisters a smile as they left.

♥♥

The next week was spent with Blossom walking slower than she noticed to her parents office. Her face was almost permanently puffy from the tears she had shed for the few days and neither of her parents had given any care. She was sitting at her mother's desk, silent and still. There was no reason to scream and run, hope had been lost.

“Look at that.” her mother quipped as she passed a piece of golden paper to her.

She picked it up and her blood ran cold.

‘An invitation to Princess and Brick’s wedding, how lovely.” Her mother smiled.

Blossom could see it now. The couple saying their vows and dancing the night away and she wondered if he had the choice to run away, would he? She had learned that Princess was an heir to more money this town had seen and quite beautiful too.

“She’ll make him happy.” Blossom lied knowing that she shouldn’t discredit his feelings. Afterall depth was what he liked most. “I wonder what’s that like?”

“What?”

“Happiness.” Blossom said. Her mother met her eyes. “Are you a happy mother?”

“Happiness comes in many forms.”

“And yet the only time I’ve seen you smile, is when it comes from the suffering of me or my sisters. You were given the sweetest little girls who offer nothing but unconditional love but instead of basking in their own light, you chose to block it out. I hope that when they are old enough, they never have to face the same life as mine.”

“You live in this gorgeous house-”

“With no heart or warmth. Vacant like a ghost town. How could you be proud of something so grand, yet broken at the seams? I am thankful for the upbringing on the fairer side of this society but I wish I had the love others have. Sometimes I wonder if a golden spoon is really worth more than a hug.”

Her mother stared coldly. “Do you think happiness gets you far in this world? Do you think that I spent years building up my reputation to be disrespected by my daughter?”

“There is no disrespect because I don’t see you as my mother and I would rather die tomorrow knowing I was in the presence of someone I love then spend the rest of my years, trapped to a man who could care less about my heart.” Blossom stood and grabbed the invitation and stood.

A cold dark laugh came from her mother. “Life isn’t a fairytale. You think that anyone would want to marry you out of love? Even if you are smart enough to know that, he’s going to wed by the end of the week. You have no money, and nothing to offer. What good would it be to beg?” Her mother stood and came towards her, arms stretched out. “Darling, just make life easier for everyone.”

Blossom took a step back. Her shoulder straightened up and she held her head high. “Thats where you’re wrong, mother. I can offer him my heart, something only I can give.”

“Love can’t give you everything.” She spat.

Blossom shook her head and offered a sympathetic smile. “I wish you knew that love can give you freedom and joy even with despair around.” She turned and began walking, her mother not bothering to follow or stop her.

♥♥

Blossom stared at her ceiling, a small white daisy in her hand as she tried to think of what to do. She hardly heard her door open and the shuffle of two sets of shoes.

“Bubbles, Buttercup? It's late, you should be in bed.”

“Shhh. Be quiet.” Bubbles smiled.

“You should go to him.” Buttercup said and Bubbles handed her a bag.

“He loves you and you love him Blossy!”

Blossom sighed. “I can’t just stop his wedding.”

Buttercup laughed. “Sure you can. Go in there and confess your love for him.”

Bubbles nodded. “Or you should meet him before. Run away with him, far from this place.”

Blossom looked between her sisters before they hugged her.

“We will be fine, please just go.”

“Okay.” Blossom agreed.

♥♥

Brick stood in the mirror. His suit was pristine and fit for any king and although he looked fine, deep down he was full of dread.

The moment Blossom’s parents called off their engagement, his own parents wasted no time looking for a suitor. Out of some convenience, Princess hadn’t been engaged and her father was loaded beyond belief that when the opportunity presented itself, his family jumped on it.

He didn’t know if he could ever truly love Princess and she probably wouldn’t love him but he knew there were worse things in life that could happen. Except for the heartbreak that came with the ring. His own brothers couldn’t get through to him and he felt hopeless. How do you go from loving someone, to never seeing them again?

There was a knock on his door and it made him shiver.

“Come in.” He said and the door opened just as soft as the knock.

He turned around to see Blossom standing there. A content look on her face as she looked him over, the desperation clear in her eyes. “You look nice.” She said and he could tell her voice was on the verge of breaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“To see you, one last time.” She said. She walked towards him and adjusted his skewed tie. “Or maybe not.” Her hands rested on his chest.

“Maybe not?”

She gazed at him with glassy eyes. “When they announced our engagement, I thought I lost any hope of freedom I had left. I thought that you would resent me for being chained to you and that's why I told you that you could leave. And I tried to tell myself not to fall in love because it wouldn’t be fair or it would hurt too much.” She stepped back. “But when I cried myself to sleep or stared at the moon until the sun came up, I realized that in those moments I tried to stop, I was falling faster than I anticipated.”

Brick watched as she took something from her bag. “I think I did too.”

She giggled at that. “When I read all those books about true love and how you see stars in the other person's eyes, I look at you and I see happiness and bliss.” Tears dripped down her cheeks slowly. “Even in the darkest corners of my house, I found indulgence and light with you.” Blossom said.

Brick brought his hand to her cheek, wiping the tears away. “I have spent years pondering these feelings. Wondering what else my parents could take from me. They could take my spirit and my time. Steal my childhood of playing in the creek or chasing the fireflies but Miss Blossom.” He took her hand. “They might have thought that forcing you upon as my wife without a moment of thought would be the cruelest thing they could do, but taking you away was pure anguish.”

Brick shook his head with a dry laugh. “It was the creek, when we had escaped for just a short while. When you stood on that ledge and jumped into my arms, I don’t know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes sparkled when you stepped in the water and everything after that-” He stopped to gather his thoughts but she placed her hand on his arm.

“I know it’s selfish of me to ask you this as there is another waiting for you hand downstairs. Although I can’t give you the same welah or land she may be able to provide. I give you my heart and my faith. Every fragment of my being is dedicated to you and all I can ask is if you could accept that of me? If you could choose to follow your heart and give me the honor of loving you for who you are, would you?” She asked as she held out the small box that contained the golden band that was meant for him.

He looked up at her, pure adoration on his face as he kissed her hand. “I give my heart to you. The most suitable woman for me is not one with money or a legacy for her parents to uphold. But a kind and innocent lady who has a mind full of knowledge and dreams. On your command, I will take you far from this place, away from the criticism of our family and give you a life where you can run free and have every opinion of your very own. I promise that you will never spend another cold night wondering what lies beyond the paths of the forest and I promise you that I will love you, not because I am forced but because I choose to.”

“I choose you too.” She sobbed as he took her by the waist and kissed her.

He felt her smile against his lips and that same magnetic spark that came the first time they had kissed returned in an instant. Their kiss was more magical than the first snowfall of the season or that of a shooting star.

They pulled away and she saw the way his eyes looked brighter than they ever had before, like a new life had instantly sparked. He took her hand and threw off his tie.

“Come on, I know a place we can go.” He said with a giant smile.

Without gestation she followed him, leaving her past behind and welcoming the new warmth of her life. They ran from the back of the church to his parked car down by the field and he helped her in and kissed her again and again.

‘I love you.” She whispered in between his lips capturing hers.

“I love you more, Blossom.”

As the key sparked the car to life, and they drove to who knows where, she glanced at him and saw not only freedom, happiness and bliss but a man who loved her for every aspect of her being. Something no one could ever take from her again.

“Say Princess is going to be really pissed.” He laughed.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “I told Jared that there was a hot rich girl at the church.”

Brick chuckled and slid his arm around Blossom’s shoulder. “That solves that problem.”

♥♥

Three months later

“Checkmate.” Blossom smiled proudly as she took the final piece. Normal Brick would scoff or playfully pout but instead the competitive side wasn’t showing.

He stared at her longingly as she began to set up a new game.

“It’s almost like you let me win.” She glared. “Is something wrong?”

Brick chuckled and shook his head. “No. everything is perfect.” He stood and walked over to her side of the table and kneeled down and took her hands away from the chess board.

“Brick?”

“You’ve always been better at chess then me. Even if we tied, I knew your strategy was beyond compare. However, no matter how many times you take my pawns or steal my queen, I already won.”

“You already won?” She questioned with a laugh.

She watched him reach into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Its golden latch was opened to reveal a pink pearl ring. A gasp escaped her lips as he took out the ring.

“Blossom, there's not enough words or love stories to perfectly say how I feel about you. All I know is that I love you, on our own terms and see you as someone greater than the world knows. If you will do my honor, Blossom, will you marry me?” He asked.

“Of course.” She cried out and slipped the ring onto her finger as she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. He smiled against her lips and lifted her up, carrying her to the small couch in their small home.

It wasn’t grand or had a ballroom. There was no elegant garden or parties thrown. Instead it was cozy and full of a loveable warmth. It rivaled everything they were taught, yet it gave them a happiness only the lucky could have.

“Hey.” She whispered. “I found something the other day.” She jumped up and grabbed his hand. He followed her to the backyard that seemed to stretch for miles.

The sun was high in the sky as they walked along the dirt path through some trees. Bushes of daisies and roses grew wild along the path and they stopped at the edge.

He looked down and his smile grew bigger. “A creek.”

She playfully hit his shoulder. “Just like old times.”

Brick found his way down to the bank, kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt to the ground. He looked up at the ledge where Blossom was standing with sunbeams shining behind her. His arms extended and without thinking twice, she jumped and landed securely.

“Don’t slip” She mocked as he carried them to the water.

Brick laughed at her tone and gently set her down. His hands around her waist as they stared at each other. Pink and red complimented against the shallow water of the creek. He kissed her cheek and pulled the red ribbon, making the long trails of her hair blow free in the summer breeze.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you more.” She responded and kissed him, her ring sparkling underneath the light.

She had spent all of her childhood reading books with the grand fairy tail ending. The ones every little girl dreamed of. For the longest time, she had stopped believe that they could be true. But as she stared into the eyes of the person she loved and cherished most, it was as if the stars had alined and the book she never thought would be written, was now opening with a brand new chapter of love and hope.

♥♥

I hope you enjoyed!!

asks/requests/commissions open!

#blossick #blossick fic #ppg x rrb #blossom ppg #brick ppg #ppg x rrb #thepowerpuffgirls #thepowerpuffgirlsfic #ppg fanfic #ppg fit #reds #angst #thewritingstar #thewritingstarcommissions #fanfic commissions

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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 5 years ago

Text

ok, if i don’t write this im gonna lose my mind -cue dmx ‘party up’-

here is a ridiculously detailed analysis of why i am bordering on near certainty of caryl endgame, and how everything that’s been set up from the start of s9 (yes, even c@rzekiel and d@nnie) has been leading up to this

spoilers and long-winded analysis under the cut

let’s take this step-by-step, okay? starting with:

The Titles:

i have said this about a million times now, but the very first indication of caryl came from the new opening credits, where mmb’s name was very strategically placed above the graphic of daryl’s crossbow, what’s meant to symbolize henry’s pike, and a bunch of cherokee roses. it was foreshadowing, not only of henry’s death, but also how her relationship with daryl was going to unfold, and, bear with me here, the downfall of c@rzekiel. speaking of which, let’s go there

C@rzekiel:

i have also rambled about this, too, but the way that kang designed this relationship between zeke and carol was so brilliant, because it was never supposed to be real, but you weren’t able to fully see how until the whole story was laid out before us. (which goes with my belief that kang tells stories over long, connected archs, and not just “you know what would be fun to toss in here rn for some drama?”

carol

1. denied zeke’s proposal

2. never once told him she loved him

3. explicitly told those saviors she could have done without her ring (a line that had absolutely no need to be in there)

4. continuously rejected the title of queen

5. regularly visited daryl in the woods

6. said herself that all it was, was a fairytale. something i’ll delve into more when i talk about carol’s ptsd

but let me touch on how daryl plays into this. we know she regularly went out into the woods to be with daryl, and she did it because he was her tether back to reality. she was living a fantasy life, and knew deep down that it wasn’t real, but had to do it, for henry’s sake, and for the sake of her mental health, because at the time of the relationship, she had not remotely begun to deal with any of her grief

the first scene we get with her and zeke is directly after daryl saves zeke’s life, which is telling. and the first time we hear her talk about her feelings about zeke’s proposal she turned down it’s with daryl, and let us not forget that the script notes stated that daryl was experiencing jealousy about it. he never asked her not to, though, because he thought she was happy, and that was more important to him than her being with him. he was willing to give her up if it meant she was happy, like what kind of angst trope suffering is that?? -chefs kiss-

and we can’t forget that zeke canonically views daryl as a threat to his marriage (i mean, rightfully so). he literally tells daryl to back off his wife so that he can fix their marriage, because he knows carol is starting to go back to him

next!

flowers:

flowers have been being used as symbolism between these two across the past two seasons a bunch. flowers are in mmb’s title card. the first scene of carol/daryl in the time jump shows them seeing flowers. daryl brings carol a flower on the dinner tray. one of the upcoming episodes is “look at the flowers”. obviously the cherokee rose scene is iconic between them, and flowers to carol represent this weird dichotomy. on the one hand, they represent daryl comforting her and giving her hope, and on the other hand, they represent her downfall mentally from the grove. interesting that one of the threads throughout this current season is carol grappling between trying to stay grounded with daryl, and her losing herself to her grief

speaking of grief!

Carol’s PTSD:

people have bitched that kang is just telling carol’s same storyline all over again, to which i’m like, tf show are you watching?? here’s what kang has done. gimple dealt with carol by literally just locking her away in a house to mull over how terrible she is a person, while never once actually dealing with her grief, and then handed that over to kang as a boiling slop of diarrhea, and somehow kang managed to take that, perform alchemy, and turn it into delicious loving carol juice.

she had henry killed off to parallel sophia, yes, that’s true, but the /reason/ she did that is because she’s righting the wrongs that were done to carol by essentially rewriting her storyline the way it should have gone. carol has lost So Much. more than most, i think, and kang is like, “that would fuck someone up pretty fucking bad, i think, so let’s see her actually have to grapple with that.” kang stays true to the carol gimple created, in that her instinct is to run away (think boat), but she’s using daryl as a means of forcing her to confront her demons. the two of them, at any given time, are running away from their struggles, but daryl is finally at a place of stability, and so he’s taking carol by the hand and saying, “no. i’m not letting you do this again. you have to stay,” and carol does, because she loves him, but consequently she’s having to actually feel it (something she explicitly stated she “can’t let herself do”), and is now experiencing the consequences of it, and poor daryl is stuck trying to handle it. his entire plotline this season has revolved around trying to help carol heal her wounds so that they can finally be together the way they should have been ten years ago.

they should be together, and daryl shouldn’t be with anyone else? glad you asked, because that brings us to:

D@nnie:

i actually think that kang never meant to make daryl/connie a ship, bc nothing in season 9 really indicated anything more than a mutual respect, and part of me truly believes that she saw the reaction to the two of them, and was like, “you know what? i can work with this.”

carol is pushing daryl towards connie because she wants to take alpha down and knows she might go down with her and she needs to know daryl won’t be alone. that’s it. period. end of sentence.

but okay, let’s extrapolate. she asks him if he’s interested in connie, and daryl very, very bluntly says no. you can’t tell me that his answer was meant to be evasive. he delivered that line like straight up “no.” no room for debate about his feelings. if they wanted to leave room for doubt they would have had norman redo his delivery, because it is too obvious. he is shutting it down completely. and carol is like, “why not?” and /that’s/ when daryl gets evasive. very “don’t worry about it, why are you worrying about it, i’m not in love with you, shut up.”

fucking kills me, guys.

now the current spoilers about carol telling daryl to get angry at her for (supposedly/probably) killing connie furthers this belief that she wants daryl to pull away from her. because he’s her tether, she loves him, and as long as he still wants her around she can’t leave. she wants him to hate her, and daryl refuses. he’s pissed as all get out about what she did, sure, but he doesn’t hate her. also, the idea that daryl going back to try and save connie and magna means he’s in love with connie is absolutely baffling. have you met daryl? his instinct is to save people at all costs. he wouldn’t leave his friends stuck in a fucking cave, are you serious? just because connie is a woman doesn’t mean daryl wants to fuck her. he’s allowed to care about his friends.

but anyway, the point here is that every “d@nnie” spoiler has been music to my ears, bc not once has it been actually shippy. that first episode with the asl book and them together? it was supposed to juxtapose zeke and carol, and how carol and daryl immediately forgot about connie and zeke in order to be with each other. every other thing with connie has either been very cute and platonic, or has been carol trying to push her on daryl. -chefs kiss- my dudes, you’re worrying about nothing

Misc bc I’m Late for Work:

here are just a handful of other indicators that caryl is on the horizon

-the dream where she dreams she’s MARRIED TO DARYL, and the scenes where she wakes up in bed and looks over and he’s not there. why set that up if the end result isn’t going to be them together in bed?

-the bracelet/the acorns and what they symbolize

-the use of “we” (”we don’t sleep” “it was like that for us before all of this” “since when have we never been enough?” etc)

-their parallels to alpha/beta (see my other long-winded text post on that one)

-ten years worth of history between them!!! that kang understands and references (carol’s claustrophobic, look at the flowers, etc)

so anyway, i don’t have time to tie this up with a nice bow bc i really have to get to work, but this is all to say that i am very very confident about the caryl endgame. i think it’s being drawn out bc kang needs to right the wrongs done by gimple first, but that caryl is where she’s eventually headed. every spoiler has been 100% caryl positive to me. i am zen af, and i think you should be too.

i’ll add to this if i think of anything i missed, but here you go. caryl is endgame and they gon fuck

the end,

-diz

#caryl #caryl spoilers #twd s10 spoilers #dunlap tp

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mssjynx · 5 years ago

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Hi! I’ve been reading a bunch of your stuff lately and was wondering if i could request #24 (nsfw) with either Ohmcat, Ohmtoonz, Minicat, or Daithi de Wildcat

alpha / beta / omega au

daithi de wildcat drabble

24. You keep glaring at me and I have to confront you about it.

warning: nsfw

a/n; this is my first smut for ddw!!! i dont know how im writing them!! i dont know if this worked!!! be honest and let me know what you think :)

hope you enjoy! i hope they were both in character

The party was shit. The alcohol wasn’t good and the food tasted bland. The smell of weed and cigarette smoke polluted every corner of the house and Tyler really did just want to go home. He was buzzed on shitty vodka, having thrown back a few shots with Marcel before the alpha had gotten caught up dancing with Scott.

Now Tyler was sat on the couch with a beta whose name he didn’t remember practically sitting on him and chattering away in his ear. He could barely listen though she didn’t seem discouraged. He could guess she was high off her mind and, honestly, he was glad that at least she was enjoying the night.

Bored, as he had been for the past hour, he cast his attention around the room, snorting to himself when he noticed a very drunk Brian swinging a very sober Brock around in a hazardous dance. When he flicked his attention over his shoulder, he met bright blue eyes with surprise, not expecting to find them staring right back at him.

What only furthered Tyler’s confusion was the anger hiding in that glare. Daithi had his arms folded, eyes sharp and irritated as he glared Tyler down for a few more seconds before turning back to Anthony and Evan. The beta didn’t look back at Tyler, but the American could see he was still angry, foot tapping on the floorboards and fingers clenched in fists at his sides.

What he had done to deserve such anger, he could only wonder, and he settled back into the couch. Ten minutes later, as the girl he sat with pulled him to his feet and tugged him towards the dancefloor, he noticed Daithi again, brows furrowed and a displeased frown twisting his mouth. He kept Tyler’s eyes for only a minute before turning away and Tyler couldn’t help his own irritation flaring. He hadn’t done anything to piss Daithi off, he didn’t deserve to be a target of the Irishman’s anger at all.

With a determination to fix this problem, the alpha placed a hand on the girl’s back and dipped to speak into her ear as he pointed to the dancefloor. Ryan looked extremely out of place where he swayed, not one for the centre of attention or drinking or dancing. “Go dance with him, I gotta sort something out,” he explained and was relieved when she clapped her hands with a giggle.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, she pranced off in the direction of the omega and Tyler laughed to himself as the nervous man got an armful of a pretty high beta. Lingering to watch for only a moment before he swung his head around, he met those icy eyes and this time, locked them down.

“What’s got you lookin’ so pissed?” he demanded as he stalked up to the Irishman. It was mildly dissatisfying when he found that the both of them were pretty much the same height and there was no intimidation or reluctance in those bright eyes.

Still, nothing infuriated him more than the way Daithi folded his arms over his chest and turned his head away. “Nuthin’,” he snapped, voice thick with his accent; a giveaway that the beta had had his own fair share of alcohol that night.

“You’ve always been a shit liar,” he responded, falling back against the wall to stand beside his friend. “What’s wrong?” He wasn’t a sensitive guy, anyone who knew him knew that.

“‘M fine,” he replied and Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m dating the Queen,” he snarked back, huffing a sigh and grimacing at the fresh scent of weed. “It smells like shit in here.” Daithi let out a hoarse laugh, nodding in agreement. Then, with the sudden need to pee, he pushed off the wall. “I’m going upstairs,” he declared and stepped over to the doorway. When he heard no movement behind him, he turned back and frowned at where Daithi still leaned against the wall. “You comin’?”

Surprise rose those thick brows before he was pushing off the wall and following Tyler out into the hall and to the staircase.

“Where’re we goin’?” Daithi slurred and Tyler snickered when he stumbled on the stairs. “Fock off,” was the quiet snap he received.

“Need to piss,” Tyler explained. “Do you wanna stay down there?” He turned as he asked the question, meeting Daithi’s glance. At the short shake of his head, he smiled and felt a tickle of relief in his chest when the beta returned the grin. “Exactly.”

They popped each door open, dawdling their way down the hall until they came across the nice clean bathroom. Daithi shuffled to the mirror, frowning at his reflection as Tyler turned to the toilet and flicked the lid up. In silence, they relieved themselves, switching places and rinsing their mouths out in the sink.

“So what was ‘er name?” Daithi asked as they stepped into the bedroom beside the bathroom. Bland; Tyler assumed it was a guest room.

Tyler flopped down onto the bed and sighed happily. “Who?” he asked, brain feeling fuzzy from the few drinks that were still coursing through his body.

“T’e girl you were with,” he said, and Tyler turned to where his friend sat on the desk chair. He didn’t meet Tyler’s eyes and confusion flickered through the alpha’s thoughts.

The girl. On the couch, stunk of weed, chattering in his ear. He snickered, reliving the image of Ryan awkwardly catching the girl as she tried to spin into his arms. “Don’t remember,” he admitted as he yawned. “She was probably too high to tell me.”

All Daithi replied with was a short, “Hmph,” as he continued to spin around on the chair.

Tyler flopped onto his side instead, watching his friend spin, kicking the carpet to push him around. “What, you think she was cute or somethin’? What’s got your panties in a twist?” he asked and Daithi only glanced at him for a moment before he was turning his attention to the ceiling.

“No,” the Irishman declared. “She looked annoying.”

“Oh?” Tyler muttered, frowning at both the Irishman and himself. What else could have pissed the Irishman off? In his drunken state, it really was too difficult for him to consider it and he gave away a huff of defeat. “Why’re you pissed then?” he asked straight up and frowned further when Daithi didn’t meet his eyes at all.

“I told ye, I ain’t pissed,” the Irishman snapped, but the anger could be heard in his defensiveness and without the stench of weed around them, Tyler could scent the irritation. “I couldn’ care less about who ye take a fancy to,” he continued, stopping the chair and glaring at the wall.

For a long few minutes, the two remained in their silence as Tyler turned those words over in his brain a few times. “I couldn’ care less about who ye take a fancy to.” Why did Daithi sound like he was lying through his teeth? But why would Daithi actually care about who Tyler took interest in if he wasn’t telling the truth?

It felt too silly to think about for the drunk alpha and a laugh bubbled out of his throat. “You jealous or some shit?” he laughed, cracking a grin as he met Daithi’s eyes. “You wanna come sit on my lap?” The words were teasing as he giggled but no smile pulled at the beta’s mouth. He gave the alpha a pointed glare before turning to face the blank computer screen on the desk behind him.

Tyler’s grin fell.

“I was kidding,” he said. “What, do you actually like me or some shit?”

Perhaps being blunt wasn’t exactly the right route to take while handling this as Daithi’s shoulders tensed. “Fock off, I don’t,” he spat and Tyler couldn’t ignore the uptick of his heartbeat if he tried.

He gaped at the back of the beta’s head, eyes wide and mouth agape. Daithi was actually jealous of that girl? He wanted to be the one cuddled up to Tyler, flirting and taunting? Did he want to kiss Tyler? Did Tyler want to kiss Daithi?

He couldn’t help flicking his tongue out to lick his lips at the thought, his stomach flipping in a weird way. The immediate “no way” didn’t come to mind like he thought it would and the drunk haze that occupied his mind made it seem far less of an internal crisis as it should have been. He simply pushed himself to sit upright and exhaled.

“Daithi, c’mere,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

Slowly, the beta turned and glanced over his shoulder. He wore a suspicious look in his eye and didn’t turn the chair as he glared. “Why?” he demanded and Tyler snorted.

He lifted a hand and beckoned at the Irishman. “Come on, fuckhead. C’mere,” he repeated and smiled at the sigh that the beta released. He swivelled himself around and slowly wheeled himself to the bedside.

“Whot?” he asked, brows still furrowed.

Closer, it was easier to see the pink that flushed Daithi’s face, the guarded look in his eye. His eyes were less blurry and the nerves on Daithi’s face only made the beta look cuter (in a weird, unusual way).

Without thinking into it, he let the weird urge that flipped his stomach and buzzed his nerves take over. He reached up, not too fast as to scare Daithi off, but quick enough that he was able to catch a hold of the beta’s shirt before he could back off.

Letting the contact linger between them for a moment, just to make sure the beta wasn’t going to freak out on him, he then pulled Daithi forward, sitting up in preparation.

“Nogla,” he scolded when the beta leant back slightly. “Get your ass-”

With a grunt, the beta pushed off the chair and clambered onto the mattress, situating himself above the alpha’s lap. Close. A hand on Tyler’s shoulder. His own hand on Daithi’s thigh. He felt the world spin around them and all he needed was to catch the flash of uncertainty in those pretty blue eyes before he made a decision.

He yanked at his shirt, yanking him close, and flinched when Daithi’s lips crushed against his. The dull pain of contact didn’t linger though as Tyler caught the Irishman’s jaw and fit their mouths together properly.

And honestly, it was weird. Daithi’s lips were chapped, he was big and clumsy on Tyler’s lap and he seemed uncertain with every touch. But Tyler could feel the fire beneath the beta’s skin and the craving to break it free was overpowering. He pulled back, watching Daithi blink dazedly.

“Daithi, kiss me,” he commanded. “Properly.”

Then he pulled Daithi down to sit on him and sealed their mouths together once again. Two seconds. Slight adjustments. Daithi’s hands tightened on his shoulders and his mouth melted against Tyler’s in a way that had heat and excitement erupting in his lower belly. Their mouths moved together with a lack of experience, but from fleeting kisses Tyler had shared in the past with girls he’d met in clubs or out on dates, he knew well enough to lead Daithi on.

With warm cheeks, he licked lightly at the beta’s top lip and couldn’t stop himself from moaning when Daithi arched his hips forward in response. Fuck, was all the alpha could think as the seam of Daithi’s lips parted and before Tyler could comprehend any of it, Daithi was sucking lightly on his tongue and sighing into his mouth.

He arched his own hips up, only a subtle motion to grind his arousal up against Daithi’s, but the action only reminded him how many boundaries lay between them. His hands slid around to the underside of Daithi’s thighs, slipping up to his butt which he squeezed out of curiosity.

The breathless moan Daithi pressed into his mouth was far too erotic and something primal took control of Tyler as he locked up. Holding Daithi against him, he rolled to the side and pressed the beta down into the mattress. Hips caught between Daithi’s legs, mouth still locked on the beta’s, he growled and nipped at the beta’s bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Daithi breathed as they drew back for air, but Tyler didn’t wait for a critique, diving back in and licking into Daithi’s mouth. He braced himself on one arm, his other holding the beta’s thigh upright to give him more space between Daithi’s legs. Everything felt right when he rocked his hips down, grinding his arousal into the Irishman’s heat and gripping his thigh hard enough to bruise.

When the beta could no longer breathe, he tipped his head back and Tyler didn’t chase his mouth despite how much he craved to. He let Daithi breathe and instead lost all of his focus to the expanse of pale skin revealed before him. Another grind of the hips, a breathless whine from Daithi; he dropped his head to the slope of the beta’s neck and locked his lips onto the skin.

“Oh hell,” Daithi murmured, hand sliding up the back of Tyler’s neck to grasp his hair as the alpha began sucking hard, deliberate marks into the beta’s throat. His hips didn’t stop their grinding as he rocked his arousal against Daithi, dragging as many different sounds from the beta as he could. The pleasure surrounded them in a hazy, stinking up the room so much better than the weed downstairs.

Tyler forgot all about the party. He forgot all about the girl.

All he had space for in his mind was Daithi’s body beneath him and the heat that seemed to devour them. “Tyler, ye’re gonna leave a mark,” Daithi groaned as Tyler bit as skin he’d been teasing with his tongue. The alpha only grinned, sucking it between his teeth and lavishing it with his tongue. “Fock-” The beta’s gasping curses were the best encouragement Tyler could receive as he worked his way down Daithi’s throat.

It wasn’t long before the need and the heat was getting to his head and he was bucking his hips down to meet Daithi’s grinds, putting torturously not-enough pressure on either of their arousals.

The second thin fingers started grabbing at Tyler’s shirt, he pulled up off the beta and yanked his shirt up over his head. By the time he’d wrestled his belt off and shoved his jeans and boxers down his thighs, Daithi was on his back, jeans on the floor and shirt thrown behind him. His cock was swollen, bent up to rest against his stomach where it leaked precum.

Tyler felt his mouth watering as the fresh scent of arousal and Daithi filled his nose. “Fuck, you smell amazing,” he couldn’t help but growl, taking Daithi in his hand and sliding his fingers over his length.

He watched as Daithi’s eyelashes fluttered, eyes rolling back as he fell to the mattress. He didn’t seem strong enough to hold himself up as his thighs shook where they bent either side of Tyler’s hips. Pressing in to occupy that space again, Tyler was glad for his large hands as he slid his own cock alongside Nogla’s and took both of them in his hand.

Immediately, Daithi was gasping, teeth burying in his bottom lip as he bucked up into the contact. “Yes, yeah, that’s good-” He choked on the words as Tyler flicked his wrist. The burn was a little much without lubrication and he hummed in thought for a moment. Without a care for modesty, he spat into his palm before smearing the little beads of precum leaking from their arousals down their cocks.

It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do, he decided as he dipped down and caught Daithi’s bottom lip between his teeth. Settling over him, he flicked his wrist again and felt the beta’s pleasured sigh wash over his mouth.

“Fuck,” he murmured, before slipping his tongue into Tyler’s mouth as the alpha jerked them both off. It was impossible to keep his hips still as the cold touch of his hand drove pleasure through the both of them. Daithi’s hips stuttered with every pump and Tyler could hardly stop the moans and growls that threatened his throat.

He kissed Daithi deeply, rolling his hips and moving his hand hard and fast. His own climax was tense in his guts and he could feel the taut muscles of Daithi’s thighs growing tighter around his waist as the beta sought out his end also.

“Fuck, Tyler- Don’t- Don’t stop,” the beta whimpered, mouth and body pliant as Tyler kissed him and ground against him.

His only response was a somewhat animalistic growl as he thrust his hips forward and slid his thumb and finger along the very sensitive skin beneath the tip of their cocks. Daithi spilled first, bucked up and moaning into Tyler’s mouth as the alpha chased his own release and came onto the beta’s stomach.

Every tense muscle in his body released and he made an effort to at least flop to the mattress beside Daithi instead of outright squashing him down into the mattress. But almost instantly, the beta was curling into him and pressing his red face into the alpha’s neck.

Tyler couldn’t help his flustered blush as they both lay together panting.

“Holy fock,” was all Daithi managed to say and when he managed to draw himself back and meet Tyler’s eyes, there was no mistaking the little glimmer of happiness and pleasure that hid there. Tyler only scoffed, reaching up for the beta’s bruised neck and pulling him forward into a kiss.

It was softer; modest and sweet as they enjoyed the laziness of the moment and the bass of the music from the floor below. By the time they pulled away, Tyler was feeling light-headed and Daithi was grinning widely.

“Wanna come home with me?” the alpha asked and Daithi’s grin was enough of an answer that he could ask for.

And if in the cab home, Tyler had to kiss Daithi to keep him quiet while he worked his hand into the beta’s pants, then no one but he and Daithi needed to know about it.

#anon #daithi de wildcat #banana bus squad #bbs #fic #fanfic #drabble #alpha/beta/omega #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #abo #omegaverse #alpha! tyler #beta! daithi #sm/ut #ns/fw

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years ago

Text

For Science 4/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 9.6k (im sorry its so long!!)

Warnings/Themes: definitely probably nsfw but purposefully not that many again. drunk jungkook being angry and then clingy, idiot kook, making out? ANGST?? Hoseok being the slimiest being on the face of the earth,

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I would like to thank @b-angst-tan for beta reading this series as it is so far. I also would like to tag @m-icdrop , @jiminslye & @ephemeral-mindset to let you know that i finally got my shit together and posted lmao. hopefully i didnt leave anyone out who wanted to be tagged. if i did im very sorry and if you want to be tagged for subsequent posts, just DM me and let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7

You wonder if maybe you should have chosen something more weather appropriate as the chill of the still early air nips at your stockinged ankles. It was a hard choice: The fleece-lined sweatpants with the dried tide pod stuck at the hip or something cute and feminine so you could play catch-up with whatever nice thing Yoori was wearing. The sight of Yoori in a slightly similar outfit of an elegant pea coat and demure pleated skirt convinces you that you made the right decision. But while your anxiety about picking the right clothes wanes, a sudden wave of exhaustion hits you. Normally you would be able to rest on a Saturday after 90 minutes of contorting yourself into endurance-testing positions, but today you had no time to untangle mentally—only physically—as you rushed through a shower to give yourself enough time to run to your apartment to grab a change of clothes.

Yoori looks up from her phone and sees you approaching her where she stands by a Starbuck’s storefront. A large grin splits her face, revealing a pair of adorable dimples on each cheek. You’re not expecting her to shove her phone into her coat pocket so she can run over to you and crush you in her arms.

“Hi, how are you!”

“Oh, uh, I’m good. How are you settling in?” Her grasp is fairly constricting , but you try not to appear shaken as you spit her hair out your mouth.

“I’m doing fine. I leased my apartment while I was away so, I’m still at the hotel until that contract ends. But that’s only for a few more weeks. After that I’ll move back in and really be at home. You smell lovely by the way. What scent is that?”

“Thanks,” you blink, “It’s just soap.”

“Mm, what kind of soap?”

“The dollar store kind.” She nods with a smile. “Um, where are we going?”

“Just to this little place up on Main Street. It’s called La Lune, have you heard of it?”

“Of course I have. They’re notorious for only ever being un-booked twice a year! And even then it’s just because they’re taking breaks so the owner can fly to her house in Paris.”

Yoori plays with the sleeve of her coat. “I suppose it does have a bit of a reputation. I must have just gotten lucky with their date book.”

“Don’t you need an appointment to get in?”

“Yes,” Yoori trails off.

“Will we be able to even get in? I-I didn’t call ahead to make a reservation since you said you’d take care of the plans for today.”

“They said they have an extra spot open for us today since they’re training a new technician.”

You don’t push because you know what they say about looking gift horses in the mouth. But you can’t help but wonder how you could have gotten so lucky on your first attempt to get seen at the nail shop. Any suspicion you have about Yoori’s methods of getting onto the appointment book evaporates when you step foot into the shop.

From looking at the pictures of the interior that you could find on Google images, you know that the design is based off of a bunch of spas that the owner herself went to during her many travels to Europe. All the décor is a novel twist of organic meets minimal with polished woods and metals and clean, sloping lines all existing harmoniously. You sit down in a plush chair in the waiting area while Yoori chats enthusiastically with the woman sitting behind the front desk. She does a little spin for her as they most likely talk about how much prettier she looks since the last time she came to the shop.

After confirming the appointment, Yoori makes her way over and sits next to you. She leans over the arm of her chair to peer over your shoulder at the vials of designer nail polish in your hands.

“Do you know what color you’re going to get?”

“Not yet. I usually just do black since it doesn’t clash and it doesn’t make my fingers look as stumpy”

“What are you talking about? Your hands are precious.” She reaches over to bring one up to inspect. “You have such a nice natural nailbed color. A nude would be perfect.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, I know what my hands are like. We can’t all have perfect OPI model hands, Yoori.”

She grins at your indirect compliment. “You think they’re perfect?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Some things are just objective facts.” She’s quiet for a bit, a small expression on her face as she looks at you carefully.

“I think this shade would look good on you”, she picks out a specific soft shade that highlights that mimics that pink tone of your nails. “Plus, its suitable for the winter and spring. So, you could wear it for a while.”

“It’s really pretty. Thanks.”

“I could buy it for you. If you like.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing so much for me today as is. I—“

“Too late.” She swipes the bottle out of your hand and gets up to go pay.

The guilt is too much for you to sit back and let it happen, so you launch yourself out of the chair and rush past her to the front desk, debit card out and ready.

“I’d like the buy the shade that Yoori has in her hand, please. Thank you.”

Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t argue, and lets you buy the shade. You give her a pat on the arm and accept the tiny satin drawstring gift bag and try not to think about the chunk of money that just left your account.

You can only assume the rest of the nail appointment is nice but you can’t know for sure. You do know that you must have enjoyed yourself because you promptly fall asleep two minutes into the hot rock hand massage that comes with every booking. Yoori snapped a quick picture of your lax dreaming face and woke you up when the technician asked her what shape you wanted your nails. Leaving the salon finds you refreshed and with a beautiful manicure.

“Feeling hungry yet,” Yoori asks after she catches you staring wistfully at a random pedestrian with a bagel. “There’s still time for it to be brunch at the place I was talking about.”

“Yeah. It’s just too bad my nails are all nice now,” you joke. “Saturday mornings are for ribs at my house.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. They don’t have ribs on their brunch menu, I don’t think. Do you want ribs? I can check and see if there are any barbecue places that are open for lunch.” She fumbles for her phone and types frantically like she didn’t just get a hundred-dollar manicure.

“Yoori, Yoori, hold on! I was just kidding. There’s no way in hell I’m messing these nails up. I’m almost considering just drinking water for lunch so I don’t have to use my hands.”

“Wow, you…really got me.” She lets out a breath of relief before side-eyeing you. “Are you sure you don’t want ribs?”

“Positive.”

“Good,” she chuckles.

The two of you make small talk about what brought each of you to engineering as you take walking directions from Yoori’s phone. The walk ends at a pretty looking place with a yet another French sounding name. It’s filled to the brim with fresh flowers, giving the air a sweet scent that has your mouth watering even more. You take a chance and allow Yoori to order for you, trying not to be suspicious of the strange cheese dish she orders as an appetizer.

“—And that’s how we met Tae. We didn’t meet Hoseok until about a month later when he spilled his drink on me in line for the comic book signing at the campus bookshop that one year.”

“I think I remember that day, actually,” Yoori blinks up as if sifting through the memory in mid-air.

“Oh! Did you go? I feel like I would have noticed another girl there. I think I could count all of us there on one hand.”

“No, I wasn’t there. I’m not a comic book person actually. I just remember seeing all the people coming back in cosplay. There was actually this one really beautiful green elf costume I saw on my way to class. There were lights woven into the fabric and everything—I almost took a photo.”

Your cheeks heat up and you duck your head to take a sip of your extremely expensive blood orange mimosa. “That was actually me.”

“Was it really? Did you make it yourself?”

“No—well, yeah, I did the bulk. But Jungkook helped me a lot and Tae helped me find the materials.”

“And Hoseok?”

“Hoseok scratched his ass and watched.”

“Wow, I can’t believe that was you. It’s like destiny. We must have been meant to meet,” she lays a hand next to yours. You can’t help but notice how well the color of her pastel nails goes with your nude.

“Yeah, I suppose so. But enough about me, I feel like I’ve just been blabbering on and on about my friends.”

“No, I love hearing about them. I always envy people with lots of stories to tell about their friends. I feel like I have to ask,” she trails off, a shy smile splitting her face. “What’s it like being the only girl in that friend group?”

“It’s…only mildly frustrating,” you say with a laugh as your food arrives. It smells wonderful and given the amount of truffle shavings, you’re glad you chose to come here on a day that you weren’t paying.

“How so?”

“I mean, you know how guys are and you know how STEM guys are. Add to that the fact that they aren’t getting laid and you have a very interesting strain of emotional constipation.” Yoori nods along understandingly. “And let’s not forget all the stupid questions they ask me since they can’t ask any other woman.”

“That sounds like it might be frustrating.” You chuckle at her diplomatic tone.

“I mean it is, but they’re nicer than most guys and they mean well.”

The sly smile appears again and she leans forward to create a bubble of privacy.

“Nothing more than platonic has ever happened between you and one of them?”

Thankfully, a waiter rushes by and bumps the table a little and you can use that as an excuse for suddenly choking on your food. You certainly weren’t expecting her to inquire about your sex life so early into the conversation, and the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. Of course, the apple of Jungkook’s eye would ask you about which of your guy friends you’ve ever screwed around with.

You blot at your face with a cloth napkin. Luckily for you, the way you look when you’ve narrowly avoided asphyxiation and when you’re concealing guilt is very similar. “Oh my god, please. I’m trying to enjoy this food, not regurgitate it. But to answer your question, no. They’re not my type. They’re too…” you make some abstract gesture in the air with your fork and Yoori nods.

“What about Jungkook, then? Surely, he’s decent otherwise I’m sure you would have warned me by now.”

“No, he’s nice. He’s a little out of it sometimes, but that’s always been his thing, you know? But he’s really kind and warm and funny in his own way. Plus, he’s in love with you so I don’t think you have to worry about him doing the man-child thing too much.”

Yoori blushes and shifts in her seat, looking a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I figured as much.”

“Can I ask what took so long for you two to finally meet up? I just—I know he’s been contacting you for a while now.”

“It’s complicated,” she sighs.

“I can keep up.”

“You could say I’ve just always been very wary of the men in our department. They’re not your average guys, but they’re still men. They still want the same things from you. And,” she looks away from you to continue. “I wasn’t sure if Jungkook was that way as well. So, I kept my distance. This must seem pretty suspect to you. Especially since it happened after he got put on the department website. I’ve heard what some people have been saying.”

Your hands fly out to console her. “Oh my god, of course not. That makes total sense. You’re not obligated to entertain everyone who expresses interest in you. I get it.”

“Oh, gosh, I feel so bad.” She hangs her head in her hands and you watch helplessly as her hair nearly falls into her water glass. When you inquire why, she shakes her head with guilt. “Jungkook never outright expressed an interest in dating until a few weeks ago. All the times before that, he’d been a perfect gentleman via text. But it was the way he would stare at me in public with those…those moonpie eyes!”

“He does look like that sometimes. Especially with those glasses.” She points at you like you’ve hit the nail on the head.

After doing a cursory look around the restaurant to make sure no one around will be able to hear her confession, she elaborates. “It was just so obvious how he felt and I was so used to guys feigning wanting to be platonic friends only to corner me in the parking lot after what was supposed to be a friendly dinner out. I-I couldn’t trust him. But then I heard that you were friends with him and I decided I would give it a chance.”

“Why would you trust him just because of me?”

“I have my reasons. And I just figured if you were willing to be friends with him, he might not be so bad. Plus, my mom has been pestering me about getting married and I wanted to get her off my back.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. It means the world to him and he can finally stop pining silently. When is your first date,” you ask neutrally. Although you know that as soon as you get a date, you’ll have to terminate your weekends with Jungkook.

“Oh well we haven’t really discussed anything like that. I think he might ask about it soon, though. I’ll keep you posted.” The little eye roll and laugh she lets out breaks the heavy mood and you try to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

“Tell me about your friends, Yoori.”

“Me? Well, I probably don’t have as much to say as you do. Most of my friends have long since finished the program and I’ve been so busy with my dissertation that I just don’t have as much time as I used to for hanging out and stuff like that.”

“I thought you were friends with Sunyoung. The bio double major? Jungkook said you were pretty close.”

“Well, he’s right. At first, we were. She’s been really busy ever since she got engaged, so,” she trails off.

“To that Jaehyun guy, right? But, wait,” you drop your fork as the details fall into place. “Weren’t you guys all friends? And didn’t they get married like half a year ago?” Your heart breaks when you realize Yoori may have been alone for at least 6 months while working.

“I could tell I was making things difficult by third wheeling, so Sunyoung suggested I give them some space.”

You were pretty certain you saw Sunyoung and Jaehyun hanging out with a few of the other women in the engineering building on the regular when you went to print things for class using the department printer. Even with her indirect language, it’s pretty clear what happened between Yoori and her friend and you don’t push. Though you do feel bad for the animosity you felt towards her when she first introduced herself.

“Well, I’m glad we met. It’s nice to finally have a new girlfriend,” you say. She looks up at you with slightly dim eyes but perks up when you lace your fingers together briefly.

The smile she gives you is brilliant and infectious. “Me too. So much,” she says quietly.

When brunch ends, Yoori suggests continuing your stroll so you can walk off the post-food sleepiness. The weather is a bit brisk and there are unanswered texts from Jungkook on your phone, but you don’t say no and keep the notifications unread. Something about the fact that you’re in the shopping district with a pretty manicure and your pretty friend makes you feel good. Good in a way that you haven’t felt in a really long time.

You link arms and window shop for hours, though it doesn’t feel like it. She pulls you into store after store because she saw something that she thought would look ‘splendid’ on you. Somehow you manage to look past her imploring eyes and put the designer garments back on the rack, but not until after she’s made you try them on and spin around in them so she can sing your praises. While you browse each shop, you make comments about the other shoppers or the items that make her dissolve into giggles or make her cheeks flare up with a warm blush and a gaping, incredulous smile. By the time you finally part ways, you almost don’t want to get into the cab she’s called for you, but your feet are aching and the sun is starting to set. She blows you a theatrical air kiss and makes a surprisingly dorky ‘call me’ gesture with her hand that has you covering your face so she can’t see how hard you’re smiling. When you step out to face Jungkook’s building, the mood of the day’s outing lingers on you like a perfume. Or maybe it’s a halo. Either way, Jungkook notices something about you is slightly different when you finally arrive at his doorstep.

“Hey,” you greet him without looking and instead focus on getting your feet out of the little heeled booties you’d been wearing for so long.

“You changed?” His voice is muffled from where he lays with his cheek smushed into the sofa. The xbox controller in his hand dangles as he takes in your appearance. “When did you do that?”

“I went back to my house after yoga. I couldn’t go meet her in a rank t-shirt and the sweats that I slept in.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to see why he’s so silent. One look at the handful of empty beer bottles sitting neatly by the floor by his feet lets you know what the deal is.

“You been drinking, Jeon?” Jungkook when he’s drunk is quite the handful, but the owlish way he blinks at everything when there’s liquor in his system is almost funny enough to make the rest of his drunk antics worth it.

“Yep,” he hiccups. He tries to shoot finger guns at you but almost ends up flipping you the bird.

It draws a string of giggles out of you. He squints and takes in your frizz free hair, your glowy skin, your nice blouse and skirt, the easy way you walk over to the couch to sit by him. His stare is tangible.

“What?”

“You’re really pretty,” he rasps and his hand reaches out without his permission to trace the swell of your cheek.

His comment takes you by surprise and you can only laugh awkwardly and lean out of his reach, unsure of what to do with such a blatant compliment.

“Wow, I spend one afternoon with Yoori and you’re calling me pretty? She must have rubbed off on me real good.” You take the controller out of his hands to un-pause the game of Zelda he was playing.

“S’not cause of her. ‘S cause you’re not hiding,” he mumbles before picking up the other controller that was laying off to the side. His comment doesn’t reach your ears which he’s secretly glad for. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

He reaches over the arm of the couch to fish out one of the leftover full bottles and hands it to you. He doesn’t say anything while he watches you chug half of it, meanwhile nudging the inside of his cheek with his tongue. A classic sulking Jungkook pose.

“Oh my god, what? Are you mad I got to spend the day with her and you didn’t?”

He blinks, surprised, when he realizes that he’s actually not mad about that. Rather he’s mad you spent so little of the precious Saturday with him, though it wasn’t clear at first. To think that he’s jealous of Yoori is funny enough to break him of his brief pouting session.

“Yeah,” he fibs, “but it’s fine.” He scoots clumsily nearer next to you. “You’re here now and there’s still the rest of the weekend.”

“That’s true. But I don’t want to play Zelda. Let’s do Mario Kart?”

“Loser each round has to take a shot and winner picks the next course?” He’s already stumbling his way back to the kitchen to pull the tequila bottle someone left in his fridge a while back and a pair of plastic shot glasses.

“Is there any other way?”

It takes three rounds, the first two of which are Rainbow Road, but you quickly catch up to him in terms of tipsiness level. Your whole body feels like its vibrating, and the tequila makes it seem like your blood is carbonated. Like you could float away at any moment. By a streak of luck and then redirecting to Bowser’s castle, you manage to get in the winning position. You’re on a roll and get cocky enough to start gloating, egging Jungkook’s underlying competitive nature on.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath as you cross the finish line 9 seconds before him. His stomach feels sloshy after four shots and the bottles of beer he downed earlier. You slam down his, now full, shot glass in front of him, spilling some of the clear liquid onto the table.

“That’s like, what, your fourth one? No, wait, it’s your fifth one. My bad.” You stick out your tongue as you perch next to him, pressing yourself to his back and reveling in the way he grimaces at the shot. “If I had known you would make the game so easy, I would have stayed out with Yoori.”

You’re so busy teasing him about his slow gaming reflexes that you don’t notice the way his smile twitches after he downs the drink. He moves uncharacteristically fast and all you can do is sit there as he tosses the tiny plastic cup to side and then turns to lunge at you. Your back hits the couch cushion with a soft thud and your breath leaves you in a whoosh. If it had just been him caging you into the couch because he was fed up with your taunting, it would be fine. But the moment his fingertips dig into your sides, you lose it and start thrashing.

Jungkook knows better than anyone else that you’re a wild tickling victim, all flailing knees and elbows. Truly a danger to anyone who dares to tickle you. But he’s still smart despite being five tequila shots and a few beers in and uses his bulk against you to keep your movement to a minimum. Perhaps it’s a little cruel to take it out on you, but he still can’t get over the selfish simmering of regret at not suggesting you ditch Yoori in favor of letting him spend the day wrapped up in you. He missed you, is what it really boils down to.

“No,” you cackle underneath him, “No, please! Jungkook this isn’t fair. Please!”

He merely flashes you his teeth in a mean grin and continues until your eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and you’ve stopped squirming so you can keep your bladder in check.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg softly in surrender, toes curling.

Maybe it’s the angle. Maybe it’s the pleading voice you’re using, maybe it’s the sparkly quality of your eyes, or the fact that you smell like lavender. The color, not the flower, he notes. Whatever it is, his eyes fall closed automatically and he leans in to slot his mouth over yours. It’s a slow kiss and even though his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, it has a chaste feeling still. You wriggle your arms out from under his weight and push him off you slowly. Thoughts of Yoori float around in the back of your mind and you can’t turn them away without feeling awful.

“We can’t get into anything today,” you snap and smooth out your skirt. “I got my period while I was out.” You wince when the lie comes out, but you don’t know if there’s any other way to put enough distance between you so you can keep your head straight.

He watches you look around until you spot your overnight bag at the end of the room. “Are you leaving?” His tone bleeds annoyance and takes on a sharp edge.

“Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious. Because it kind of is and the longer you stay, the weaker your resolve gets. “We can’t fool around if I’m on the rag.”

“Just because we can’t fool around, doesn’t mean I want you to leave.” He’s thinks for a second. “Do you want to leave?”

“Well, if we don’t fool around, I should probably go. Otherwise, why the hell am I here?”

His frustration flares up once more and you’re surprised that he’s as upset as he is. “Because I want you to be? And because maybe you want to be here too? Is that so weird? You said yourself this wasn’t anything to make a big deal of.”

“It’s not. But—”

“Then why the hell are you leaving?” He rakes both hands through his hair until he looks frazzled and barks out a sarcastic laugh. You’ve never seen him so angry with you before and strangely your first instinct is to get angrier.

“As opposed to sticking around? To do what?”

“I don’t know. Anything? We could play Mario Kart until our eyes bleed. You could let me practice kissing you and feeling you up all night. Or we could just be silent and drink until we both pass out. I really don’t care just…tell me what you want. Just stay if you want to stay.”

Your cheeks warm at his blunt words, but you put your bag down. He lets out a sigh of relief when you don’t charge out the front door, but he tenses up again when you head out the living room and only relaxes finally when he hears the shower start up. After nearly half an hour, you emerge looking squeaky clean and a little guilty in sweats. He’s not sure what the cause of the guilt is, but he tries not push. You shuffle over to stand in front of him, the sheepish curve of your shoulders making you look tiny.

You hesitate for a second before planting a knee on either side of his thighs and seating yourself in his lap. Your arms come to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders and you rest your cheek on top of his head.

“How was your day,” you mumble into the strands of his shiny chestnut hair.

He preens silently at the affection that he didn’t realize he’d been craving all day and his arms mirror yours. They come up to snake around your waist as he reclines a bit and shifts so he can relax into the couch without jostling you. Out of all of the things you’ve started physically doing with Jungkook, cuddling with him like this might be his favorite thing to do. There’s something incredibly satisfying about getting to bury himself in your scent and softness.

“Fine. Got my work done, skyped with RealiCorp. Met Tae for lunch. Tried to call you to see if you wanted to do dinner with us, but I guess you were busy. How was your time with Yoori?”

“It was,” you sigh, looking for the right word. “It was really fun. Honestly, its really nice to talk with another girl for a change. I’m glad we were able to.” He hums sympathetically and squeezes you a little tighter. “She’s really nice. You’ll be good together,” you admit.

He tenses a bit and changes the topic.

“I could fall asleep like this.” It’s the truth. The way your fingers run through his hair and the warmth of your breasts pillowing his head make him drowsy. Though he can’t focus on it as much as he’d like or else he’ll ruin the mood with an awkward boner.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, shifting so he can smile into your t-shirt.

“You’re so…” you can’t get the words out so instead you hastily smack a loud kiss onto his cheek.

It shocks both of you, but he doesn’t look put off. Instead, he merely adjusts his glasses, which you jostled with the force of your kiss. The gesture is so characteristically him that the floodgates open and you keep planting kisses on his face until he laughs and starts trying to catch your mouth with his own. He manages one or two cheeky kisses on your lips, but you swerve around enough to keep things PG. He huffs and keeps trying, one of his hands coming up to grab at your arm and keep you still. He leans forward, forcing you to lean back in his lap until you can’t anymore without risk of falling. When you clutch at his shoulders to maintain your balance, you’re right where he wants you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut as he brushes his nose against yours. It’s cute, he thinks. By now he knows in theory how you feel about period sex, but where’s the harm in kissing?

“Why are you being so shy? I just wanna kiss you,” he scoffs while attempting to nip at your bottom lip.

“Just kissing?” You open your eyes cautiously, lids at half-mast. He nods hurriedly, fingers drumming an impatient beat on the small of your back.

“O-Okay.” You barely get the word out before he’s swooping in with a low contented sound.

Making out just for the sake of making out reminds you of your time with your first boyfriend, the summer before college started. Only this is so much better because it’s Jungkook and because there’s no race to sex like there was when you were 18. Every press of lips is a deliberate choice and when you finally come up for air, somehow, you’re horizontal and are regretting the lie you told terribly.

He pulls away with a kiss-swollen pout and checks the time. When it’s an appropriate hour for bed and he suggests you both retire to the bedroom to watch TV before bed. You’re a little wary at first, but he’s a gentleman and doesn’t do anything untoward. He even lets you take control of his laptop and the HDMI cord while he writes continuously in his journal. You try to peer over at what he’s writing once you recognize it as his sex journal, but he pins you with such an offended look that you can only turn around feeling properly scolded without having actually been verbally addressed. You don’t think too much of the fact that he’s writing in it despite the fact that you haven’t done much in the amorous realm and he wrote on and off the entire day yesterday.

Even after you’ve watched three episodes of Elementary, he’s still writing. You unplug the computer and turn to look at him in his pretzel legged position. Every so often he’ll look over at you and then return to frantically writing in his journal. You try to engage him in an unspoken staring contest, but your eyelids drop closed and prevent you from winning. Only once it becomes clear that you’re trying to sleep does he wedge his journal underneath his half of the mattress and turn off the lights.

Passing through the weekend and into the next week doesn’t suddenly bring things back to normal. Instead it feels as though you’ve entered the twilight zone.

You and Yoori text on and off all of Sunday and into Monday to compare schedules and see when you can meet up for some quality girl time. This means that Yoori has started to come meet you outside your lecture halls when your classes end to walk to the library together and you arrive at your agreed meeting spots with her preferred coffee order. Your nails are holding up amazingly and you tell her so constantly while she smiles at how excited you are at something she often takes for granted.

Yoori suggested you have your your study sessions in the corner of the library coffee shop because the picture window shows all the light snow you’ve been getting and provides a nice form of visual ambiance to work to. Sometimes the guys attempt to crash the sessions. Often times you have to shoo them away by letting them take your ID card to stock up on hot chocolates with extra whip from the front counter. Your funds are depleting at an alarming rate, but it’s better to have the uninterrupted time with your first girl friend in a long time so you can get to know her better.

“So, are you going home during winter break,” you ask one day while typing away at the results section of a lab report. Yoori sits across from you in an oversized cashmere sweater you wish you could pull of half as well as she does. She’s been working silently for nearly an hour and you know she won’t take a break unless you distract her from the work.

At the sound of your voice, her head pops up instantly, her loose bun spilling out of its structure with the movement and cascading down her back. A freshman walking by the table nearly slams into a door trying to keep looking back at the same time. She closes her laptop, completely unaware of her effect on the people in the surrounding area.

“Yeah, I am. I haven’t in the past few years but my grandparents are coming from the countryside, so I should probably go this time.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you. I’m sure they’d all like to see you.”

“Are you going?”

“No,” you give a bittersweet smile as you play with the damp stirring stick next to your drink. “My family lives too far away for me to be able to go home and make the plane ride worth it. I’ll probably see them in the summer, though.”

“Won’t you be lonely? Do you want to come home with me?” Her brow furrows in sympathy and she reaches out to rub at your arm.

“No, that’s okay, I’ll be fine. It’s not my first rodeo, you know. Plus usually some, if not all, of the guys stick around since they live nearby but still want a break from their families during the day. But thank you though.”

“Okay, well there’s still time if you want to change your mind.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you almost done?”

“Almost. I’m waiting on my VASP energies to come in and then I can update my poster and I’ll be all set.”

“VASP? Since when do you do chemistry,” you get up to peer at her computer screen.

Yoori pats the open seat next to her and let her explain the very quick favor she’s doing with a professor she’s been in contact with since undergrad when she thought she would be pre-health.

“—So basically, now she’s just waiting to evaluate grain boundary energies to see if the electrolytes we’re using actually have the right structure to make a difference in hydrogen atom velocities. And I’m just here to help with some minor calculations.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

A small ping from your phone alerts you of an incoming text from ~JK~.

Is Yoori with you?

“Um, I think Jungkook is trying to reach you.”

“Oh! I keep my phone on silent during the day,” she explains and hurriedly switches on the volume before opening whatever texts he must have sent her before he texted you.

“Really?”

“I have yours set on urgent, though.”

You grin. “And why’s that?”

“Because! What if you send me another meme about neural networks? I can’t just let it rot away in my inbox.”

“No one appreciates my memes like you do.”

“Aren’t I great?”

“So great,” you admit with clenched eyes and fists for dramatic feeling.

“I wish I didn’t have to go. I’m enjoying you complimenting me.”

“Oh. Are you headed somewhere?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The energy files just arrived and I’m about to finish entering them. I think Jungkook wants to meet up to discuss things, so I’m just going to pack up now and meet him at the dining commons before the dinner rush kicks in. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay, sure.”

After Yoori packs up to leave, you consider texting Jungkook to ask what he plans on discussing with her, but it feels so clingy and invasive that you’re ashamed of yourself and force yourself to dive into work. The lab report is nearly done, but there are a few articles you could read to get further ahead in your classes. It takes a long while, and you work through the usual dinner time to do it, but you manage to finish thanks to having turned your phone off as soon as Yoori left.

When you turn it back on there are a few recent messages from Taehyung and Hoseok inquiring about late night munchies plans. You figure eating with them is better than eating soup alone in the middle of the nearby convenience store. And better than ignoring the messages in favor of going home early to have pity sleep for dinner. You text them back saying that you’ll meet them in 10 and pack your things up.

You arrive at the smoothie place feeling haggard and not ready to balance Taehyung’s energy and Hoseok’s chaotic existence. The bright side is that there is a medium chocolate shake sitting in the empty seat at the tiny high table they’ve managed to save. You greet them with a tired smile and immediately suck down the drink, reveling in the way the chocolate is already lifting your spirits a bit.

“You look like shit,” Hoseok greets you. Taehyung slaps his arm, but turns to you with concerned eyes.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Why are you guys acting like you don’t see me passed out throughout random parts of the day 80% of the time?”

“Because you don’t look like you do,” Hoseok quips. At your blank stare, he goes back to innocently sipping his guava juice. “Just looking out for you, buddy.”

“Yeah, well I slept all of this weekend, thank you very much. What about you guys? You get up to trouble at the Dairy Queen again? Is that why we’re here this time?”

Tae nods somberly. “Hobi put lit firecrackers in their dumpsters again. But this time he almost caused their elderly delivery guy to go into cardiac arrest.”

“Something is wrong with you.” Hoseok merely winks at you in response.

“The worst part is that I didn’t even have anything to do with it, but they still wouldn’t let me in, even when it was just me and Kook,” Taehyung whines.

Hoseok snorts. “Ok, that’s on you. You were my accomplice even though you technically didn’t touch the fireworks but people remember your face better than they do mine. Should have waited at least a week before trying to go back in there.”

“Wait, this was all in one weekend?”

“Yeah,” Tae reaches over and dips a fry into your cup. “The fireworks were Friday, after game night. And then we tried to go in on Saturday, but they wouldn’t let us in. We tried calling you and everything.”

“You’re mad at me now? It’s not like I could have helped you.”

“Yeah, you could have,” Hoseok corrects, gesturing to your general chest area. “You’ve got the tits for that sort of thing.”

“Why are we friends,” you ask him with a soulless smile.

“Because you won’t let me motorboat you.” His response is immediate and just as dry. It spooks you a little.

“Well, I’m gonna go. I would say it’s been fun, but it hasn’t.”

“Wait!” Taehyung scrambles out of his chair and helps you back into yours. “You can’t leave. Jungkook might be done soon and said he’ll try and meet up with us. It’ll be the first time we’ve all been out together in such a long time.”

“We literally saw her on Friday,” Hoseok groans and tosses his head back in what looks like a mini tantrum. You roll your eyes.

“That was at Kook’s house, that’s not ‘out’. It doesn’t count.” Taehyung turns to plead with you, eyes big and starry, with a comical pout on his face. “Please stay? For me? Ignore him. I do.”

“Hey!”

“Fine,” you sigh before shaking your empty cup. “But I need another one of these. And Hobi is buying.”

“Like hell I am.”

“Do I have to remind you that if it weren’t for you and your whipped cream fixation, I wouldn’t be in the red for dining dollars and I might be able to afford my own drinks from time to time? You owe me, Jung.” You try to poke his sternum menacingly, but he moves to snap his teeth at your finger and you quickly pull back with a shriek. He agrees, though its reluctantly at best.

While Hoseok waits in the line to order your refill, Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours. Carefully, he attempts conversation.

“How are you holding up?”

“With what, work? It’s the same as always. Tedious.”

“No, I mean with…Did Kook not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That he planned to officially ask Yoori out tonight,” his voice is quiet and uncertain.

“Oh. No, he didn’t tell me. But, it’s not like its our right to know. He’s an adult. H-how did you find out, though?”

“He told me.”

“And me,” Hoseok says as he sets down the second milkshake in front of you.

“I see.”

You start drinking on autopilot, too busy thinking about why Jungkook wouldn’t tell you such big news despite your being his best friend. You figure maybe he found out about your big fat crush on him and decided he’d rather tiptoe around you than have to let you down gently. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough about you enough to tell you these things now that Yoori was in the picture. What’s good is that the latter thought doesn’t make any resentment towards Yoori rise in your stomach. Instead you just want to curl up in a ball and wonder you did in your past life to deserve such a horrendous love life. Or, you suppose, lack thereof.

“He just shared his location. I think he’s on the way,” Taehyung tentatively disrupts you from zoning out any further.

If you hurried, you could probably take the campus shuttle home and be on your way home before Jungkook arrives, but part of you wants to see how he’ll explain his decision to you. You decide to stay because you don’t want to be anything less than supportive of his new relationship though it’s kind of crushing you in the process.

“Tell him to hurry up, then. You know what happens when I drink cold things,” your voice is light and a little bouncier than is appropriate and you know Taehyung knows what’s going on in your head. But Hoseok doesn’t and you don’t want him to.

Jungkook arrives 10 minutes later with Yoori in tow. She looks sheepish until she sees you sitting at the table and her dimples make an appearance. She runs ahead of Jungkook to envelope you in a hug. You’re still working on the physical boundaries of your friendship given that you’re not a huge fan of suffocation. Still, you pat her arm and let her get her fill before pulling back and offering up half of your chair. She gratefully accepts it and links arms with you immediately after settling down. Everyone scoots closer to open up more space and Jungkook pulls up a seat as well.

“It’s good to see you both, again,” Yoori chirps politely. Hoseok melts at the sound of her voice and beams at her. It’s gross.

“We’re good. It’s nice to see you so often now.” Taehyung chances a look at you. The initial shock of watching you and Yoori become fast friends apparently still hasn’t worn off. You don’t blame him but he’s so obvious about it.

“It is, isn’t it? You guys are just so fun to be around.”

“We like hanging out with you too, Yoori.” Hoseok’s voice climbs almost half an octave trying to sound so abnormally accommodating. Everyone else tries to contain their laughter. “You know, you still haven’t come visit me at the dance studio. I’m starting to get hurt feelings.”

“W-well, it’s just that I’ve been so busy and I still haven’t figured out a gap in my schedule when I can properly come see you. I’m very sorry,” she squeezes your arm unconsciously as she bows her head a little to him in apology. Your pulse picks up sympathetically for her.

“Hobi, if she wanted to see you do sweaty body rolls in an empty room, don’t you think she would have done it already?” When his smile twitches at your comment you add a quick, “I’m only trying to be realistic. I’m looking out for you, buddy.”

Yoori hisses your name in your ear, but you can tell that she’s trying not to smile at your sharp wit from her tone of voice.

“Anyway,” Hoseok starts up again, “Yoori, don’t you and Jungkookie have some good news to tell us all?”

Yoori’s cheeks redden at the sudden shift in topic and she looks to Jungkook for help. His face is similarly pink with embarrassment, but he still clears his throat like he’s about to make a toast.

“It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to say that I can’t do game night this Friday since I’ll be having dinner with Yoori in town.”

“You’re all welcome to join us, if you like,” she quickly amends. Your eyes widen and you swoop in to help Jungkook save face. You know it probably took him a lot to muster the courage to ask her out in the first place and if you don’t do anything, you know Hoseok will gladly wriggle his way in and ruin the date.

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly intrude on your dinner. But, thank you, for the offer. Right Tae? Right, Hobi?” Hoseok sulks but wordlessly agrees to stay out of their date.

“Yeah,” Taehyung jumps in to help you. “We’ll just have the game night at my place. I want to play cards anyway, instead of console games this time around.”

Everyone nods until the awkward air dissipates and all that’s left is the background noise of the diner and the sound of people finishing their drinks. The cold from your shakes starts to seep into your bones and you decide to use this as your exit ticket.

“Hey, sorry to ruin the fun, but I’m freezing and I didn’t bring a real jacket, so I think I’m gonna head home. You guys have fun without me, though.”

“You can just wear my sweater,” Jungkook pipes up and begins to pull the thick, woolen pullover he was wearing over his head. But you hold your hand up to stop him as you get down from your stool and collect your trash.

“No, Kook, you’re fine. I’m just gonna use the cold as motivation to get to the bus quicker. Have a good night, everyone.”

“It’s colder out there. At least take his sweater,” Yoori calls out to you. “For me,” she adds when you look like you’re thinking about it.

“Fine,” you huff as you take the sweater from Jungkook. You slide it on in front of everyone so they can have their worries assuaged. It’s still toasty from his leftover body heat and smells like his laundry detergent. He might not get it back for a while. “See? I’ll definitely be fine now.”

“Why don’t I go with you? I’ve still got a robotics assignment I have to work on. Plus, we can split cab fare instead of waiting for the bus.” Tae shrugs on his own coat and goes to stand by you.

“Okay.” You ignore his probing look until you finish waving to everyone and leave the restaurant.

Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets as you request a ride home through an app on your phone. The silence is companionable, but the waves of pity and sympathy rolling off Taehyung are damn near palpable and you’re about to burst if you don’t address it.

“Just say what you’re thinking. I can practically hear it anyway.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not 12. I’m not going to be devastated just because they’re going out on one date.”

“Yeah, but,” Taehyung hesitates for a bit, trying to cushion the blow, “You know it’s just a matter of time before they become official, right?”

“I know that too,” you wince when your voice cracks a little.

“If you ever need anything, you know we’re here for you.” You raise an incredulous eyebrow at the implication that Hosoek would do anything less than laugh in your face if you came to him looking for comfort. “Well, I am, at least.”

“I know, Tae. Thank you.” You let him wrap you in a one-armed hug, but don’t let him pull away so you can steal his warmth as you wait for your car to arrive.

Yoori’s apartment is nicer than anything you’ve ever seen. So much so that you have a hard time believing that you even live in the same town. It’s technically not your first time visiting her building and you’ve called many a late night cab from her plush lobby. You’ve even started to make small talk with her doorman since you’re there so often. But something was keeping you from coming up and visiting her actual apartment. All the times you’d hung out off campus had been at your place or at Jungkook’s place. There had been a lull in all that since Jungkook announced that they’d be going on a date only a few days prior.

After that fateful day, it was hard to act like there hadn’t been subtle changes in the way people were acting. Jungkook was suddenly super busy or always at the gym and couldn’t ever pick up your calls. And when he did return them it was only when you were dead asleep and couldn’t pick up your phone. For that, you were actually kind of grateful because you were certain that the next time you saw him on your own, he would try to break it to you that he couldn’t return your affections and that you could no longer be friends.

Taehyung and Hoseok, on the other hand, were still somewhat normal, but Hoseok was too excited about Yoori’s unofficial entry into the friend group and Taehyung kept soft-touching you like he could take up your pain through osmosis. Yoori was the only one who hadn’t suddenly turned weird and it was only because she wasn’t aware of the chaos floating around you all.

When she’d asked you to come shopping with her on the high street, you had a hunch that it was so she could get some new outfits for the many date nights with Jungkook ahead. You didn’t expect her to try and rope you into buying things as well, though you managed to get out it by truthfully explaining to her that Taehyung and Hoseok were still using your student ID like it was a credit card in someone else’s name and you had to be frugal as a result. But just when you thought you were in the clear as you approached her building, she invited you up to help her style the stuff she bought and stick around for dinner. To keep from having to explain yourself, you said yes.

But you instantly regretted it as you stood in the middle of her chicly decorated bedroom with picture windows and realized that despite the fact that you were extremely fond of Yoori, there was still a very small part of you that wished you had her life. It felt juvenile and reminded you that even after you stopped being a teenager you still had a ton of self-esteem issues left to address. The sooner you finished helping her with her outfits, the sooner you could maybe curl up on her couch and down the bottle of wine you bought while you were shopping earlier.

“I don’t think I like this one as much now that we’re not in the store anymore.” Yoori frowns at her reflection from inside the walk-in closet. The fact that she had a walk-in closet did not surprise you, but your mouth still dropped open when you the little seating area and the full-length panel of mirrors inside of it.

You finish picking out an alternative and then call out to her. “Come out and let me see it?”

She emerges in a short and slinky dress that would be perfect if it weren’t for the way it slouched at the neckline. It seemed intentional in the store with the way the salesman was pushing hard for her to buy it, but now it looked oddly frumpy.

“I think I see what you mean. Turn?” She obeys and turns gracefully, the skirt flaring out around her hips. “Why don’t you try these? They’d look amazing with that red blouse you wore when we went to the movies that one time.” You hand her some satiny trousers that she picked up on a whim but ended up really liking. If she paired them with red, Jungkook’s favorite color, he’d eat his heart out.

“You’re right, I think this is the one,” Yoori smiles widely at you and comes out with two pairs of shoes in her hand. Silently you point to the pair that would go better with the outfit, the ones with a subtle gold traces etched into the stiletto heel.

“If you want, you can wear your hair in a ponytail. Show off your neck, he’ll like it.”

“Really?” She laughs, slightly bashful. “Is he a neck guy?”

“For you? He’s a neck guy, hand guy, lips guy, ass guy. You name it.” As soon as Yoori hangs up her outfit for the date and puts it on her closet door, you flop face first into her bed, exhausted in so many ways.

“Why do you know so much about his, um, preferences? Is he vocal about that sort of thing?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your voice is muffled by her bedspread.

“And are you not vocal about that sort of thing, then?”

Luckily she can’t see your face as you roll the question around in your head. You’re no prude and if it weren’t for the unfortunate series of events that is your life, you would love nothing more than to swap sex stories with Yoori as a form of bonding. But given that you can’t and you don’t really want to end up having to listen to her talk about sex with him when it comes, you decide one more white lie won’t hurt.

“I’m just a really private person, so I don’t really do that.”

“Good to know,” she chuckles and you miss the disappointed look on her face when she realizes she won’t be able to share with you. Although, it would make sense that you wouldn’t want to hear her talk about your childhood best friend like that. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Sleep.”

“Are you tired? How about we take a rain check and think about it again in a few hours? I’m gonna go come up with some slides for my coding class, but you’re welcome to nap in here and I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.”

“That…sounds great. Thanks, Yoori.”

“No problem.”

You wait until she closes her bedroom door and you’re certain you’re alone. When the sound of the soft music that she plays when she works drifts through the speakers in her living room, you crawl up to the head of the bed, get under the covers, and cry into the pillow. The sleep that follows is amazing though and you think it’s half because your body was running on fumes and half because Yoori has the best mattress you’ve ever slept on.

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