#it feels like lately my head has gotten dumber and dumber i wish i at least knew what is causing it

[tortademaracuya]

I cant believe i have been stuck trying to get to work the most basic shit ever and Im gonna fail at everything because Im too dumb to realize what's not working 🙃

[beigehearts]

Yandere adult trio when you break up with them (as in they were pretending to be innocent boyfriends but then you’re like okay bye) drabbles

CW: physical abuse

Hisoka

You’ve been thinking about this for a while, his behavior has gotten out of hand. He’s so protective and possessive that you can barely have a conversation with someone on the phone without him sitting right next to you. As much as you love him, you can’t keep living like this, with him constantly asking you where you’re going or what you’re doing even if you’re just getting up for some water.

When Hisoka gets home from whatever it is he does outside, you ask him to have a seat across from you at the dining table. He raises and eyebrow but does as you ask.

“Is something wrong pet?” He slides down in the chair and bounces his leg.

Hesitantly you clear your throat and nod, “You know I love you right?” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips when you ask, and he hums a yes.

“I’ve tried talking to you about this but you’re not very receptive...” You look down at your hands in your lap. “It’s hard to be around you now that you’re so... protective. I think it would be bes-”

He cuts you off with a cold voice, “To break up?”

“Yes. I’ve already packed my stuff so I’ll be leaving tonight.”

He stands up abruptly, knocking his chair over. “Don’t say such dumb things, you’re smarter than that y/n.”

Something in his usual sweet self has changed, dramatically. His eyes are icy and his facial expression expresses something of... malice.

“Hisoka I’ve been telling you I want to break up. I need to break it off at some point.” Your heart begins to pound as he slowly makes his way over to you, his shoes clicking against the ground.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” He’s standing behind your chair with his hands on your shoulder. His grip begins to tighten until you wince in pain.

You jump out of your seat and away from him, “Why are you acting like this?!”

He chuckles, until it turns into full on laughter. “Why am I acting like this? I’ve given you so many chances!” He begins to walk towards you, and with each one of his steps forward you take one back. “This is ridiculous. Just say you’re sorry and this conversation will be over.”

“No!” You yell at the top of your lungs, “I’m leaving tonight, no- no, I’m leaving now!” You turn on your heel and book it for the bedroom, grabbing your bags. When you turn around though he’s standing right in front of you. A frown is very present on his face.

His hands grip your wrists and you drop all of the bags. Before you can react he’s on top of you on the bed. You writhe in his grasp but he’s too strong. His grip on your wrists are only getting tighter by the second and you’re sure that your hands are purple by now.

“I said apologize. You didn’t listen. Do you really think you can just leave? You must be dumber than I thought.”

Illumi

His family has just become too much for you. And quite honestly so has Illumi. Illumi is obsessed with you becoming the perfect spouse, and perfect house servant for him. His mother is constantly on you about the way you act or speak. Quite honestly the only time you get a break is with his grandfather and occasionally his father. Everyone else in the house including the butlers have something to say about you. Except for Killua but he hasn’t been home in many months, maybe years.

You’re sitting on the bed while watching Illumi shine his needles. He’s surprisingly very interested in keeping them clean. His back is to you while he sits on the floor.

“Illumi.” You call out. He doesn’t respond but you know that he’s listening. “I don’t think this is working for me anymore. I wish I could say I have the same feelings I had for you at the beginning but I don’t.”

He stands but stays silent so you continue speaking.

“Maybe in the next two weeks I can get my stuff out of here and, I don’t know... Find an apartment somewhere.”

“And who will open the gates for you?”

His words cut through you like a knife.

“Huh?” Is all you can manage.

“Who is going to open the gates for you? No one will open them unless I tell them to.” He turns towards you and his eyes bore into your own.

“You won’t do it?” You ask, almost scared now. You’ve never been scared of your boyfriend despite his occupation.

He shakes his head, “No.” He sighs and begins walking towards you until he has a needle touching your forehead. “It seems my kindness was not enough for you. I really did try to be nice to you. But it seems that training is in order.”

You scramble back on the bed, your hands are clammy and your feel a bead of sweat trickle down your face. “What are you talking about?”

The hand that was holding the needle against your forehead falls to his side. “You can comply, or I can use force.”

Chrollo

He’s never home and you never see him. You’ve asked him so many times to try to come home more often and he never does. The both of you have begun having arguments when you do see each other, it’s just no longer enjoyable for you. He is coming home tonight but is leaving in the morning, he hasn’t been home for 3 weeks. You’d rather not break up with him over the phone, you feel like he deserves better than that.

It’s 11:43 pm when he gets home. He walks over to you on the couch and kisses your forehead, which only makes this harder. “Sorry I got home so late, things ran a little long.”

You nod and he flops down next to you on the couch with a big sigh.

“Hey Chrollo there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

He cocks his head towards you, “Of course darling, what is it?”

You clear your throat and sit up straight, turning towards him in your seat. “It’s just that you’re never home, and when you are home we just argue.” He nods, listening to your words intently and letting you speak. “I need someone who is available to me and honest with me, you don’t even tell me what you do when you’re gone for weeks on end.”

His silence motivates you to keep speaking, “I don’t think that either of us are getting anything out of this relationship. So I think it’s time we break up.”

He sits up and smiles, and you’re left very confused by this.

With that big smile on his face he says kindly, “No.”

“Excuse me?” You stutter.

He leans forward and runs a hand through your hair. “I said no.”

His words make you angry, this is always how the arguments start, with him just flat out disagreeing with you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. We just argue, Chrollo we are breaking up.”

You stand and move to leave the room but he grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap. When you try to stand up again he secures you in place with his arms.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “If you ever say that again.”

A chill runs up your spine and your blood runs cold.

“I’ll kill everyone you have ever loved.”

[gignikinszz]

anakin is on the train and this dipshit infront of him has been humming christmas songs everyday on his morning work commute for the past week and it’s the middle of fucking august so he’s ready to confront this motherfucker for his crimes against humanity and his eardrums then boom obi wan meet cute

anon. im obsessed 💍💍💍💍 ficlet under the cut xx

i took a few liberties with this, but i hope u still like it :)) modern au, annoyances to lovers but only from anakin's pov, 1.3k. mentions of christmas music and horrible hours of the morning beware

It was 5:15. Five-fifteen in the goddamn morning. It was six in the goddamn morning, and it was the middle of August. The seventeenth of August, to be exact.

The third week, to the day, of Anakin’s personal hell.

Some context: Anakin was on the train, just trying to get to his job at a local bakery, still trying to wake up. He’d been late that morning and hadn’t had time for coffee, and was therefore grumpy. Grumpier than usual. So fucking grumpy.

And that same motherfucker from the past three weeks was singing. Again.

Now, Anakin wasn’t a cold-hearted monster, okay? He wasn’t against singing, not at all. Not even at 5:15 in the goddamn morning on a Thursday. Not even on the train. No, what he was against, morally and spiritually and on all levels (including physical), was the fact that the stranger was singing Christmas music. In August.

Today, it was Jingle Bells, though really, the song should’ve been named Jingle Hell. Overly jaunty, reminiscent of fifth-grade showcases, jarring and horrid, even when sung with a voice as nice as Christmas Music Man’s. A disgusting display of Christmas cheer, absolutely murdering Anakin’s poor eardrums, making him wish for the fiftieth time in the past twenty-one days that his stupid dog and stupider cat hadn’t totally destroyed his earbuds fighting over them, and that he wasn’t too busy (lazy) to go get new ones.

God, he was going to lose it. If he heard one more annoying-ass sing, he was going to—

… you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special…

Last Christmas. The stranger, who always, for some sick and twisted reason, sat directly behind Anakin, was singing Last Christmas.

“Yo, dipshit, can you, like shut the fu—ck.” Anakin choked as he finally got a glimpse of the stranger. “Not up. Um. You can keep singing. Bye.”

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit. He was hot. Oh, fuck. Oh, god. He was so fucking hot and Anakin had just called him a dipshit. And spazzed out. And, worse, told him he could keep singing his awful Christmas music. He’d told the most attractive asshole motherfucker he’d ever seen that he could keep singing Last Christmas. At 5:15 in the goddamn morning. In the middle of August.

Oh, fucking shit.

Anakin spent the rest of that (thankfully not-very-long, after his outburst) train ride in silence, rethinking his life, wondering how someone so hot could be committing such heinous crimes against humanity. It didn’t make sense, at first. The man had looked nice. Or just hot. Anakin didn’t know. He’d been wearing a sweater vest with nothing underneath, showing off his very muscular arms, and he’d had very soft-looking hair. How could someone who dressed like a slutty 80-year-old have such poor taste in music? Have such little respect for Anakin, and Anakin’s eardrums, and the world at large?

It didn’t make sense, but when Anakin talked to Ahsoka, who was opening with him that day, she told him it did.

“You know,” she said, “if he’s really that hot, there’s gotta be something wrong with him. So the universe is fair and shit.”

And Anakin had to agree. There truly was something wrong with the man. Deeply, deeply wrong. Disturbed, even. Not that it made it fair that Anakin still had to suffer every morning. Or that his eardrums felt like they might die.

The next morning, he resolved to put a stop to it, good looks aside. For the sake of both his sanity, and for the world. Well, the world of the train at 5:15 in the morning. It was important to him, okay?

So he steeled himself the next morning. Got up early so he could get coffee and fix his hair, because presentation was important in these sorts of confrontations. Not for any other reason. Anakin also wore his nice work shirt, the one without too many stains, for the impending argument, of course. He would’ve looked his best while telling any asshole to stop fucking singing Christmas songs on the train at ass-o’clock every morning, whether or not they were hot.

Okay, maybe it had something to do with the fact that the guy was hot. Whatever. Sue Anakin for wanting to make a better second impression.

When he got to the train, he felt all wound-up, just waiting for the inevitable. For Holly Jolly Christmas or All I Want for Christmas is You or Chestnuts Roasting on the Open Fire of Anakin’s Burning Hatred for Christmas Songs. Or whatever that last one was called. His knee was bouncing, fingers tapping, heart pounding in anticipation. For the inevitable confrontation, of course.

It began five minutes after Anakin sat down. 5:18 in the morning.

Fucking Spooky Scary Skeletons.

An insult to Anakin’s pride, to his honor, to his family, to the month of August, to Halloween, and to the world at large, that’s what the man behind him was singing. An insult of the highest order, and Anakin had only had one cup of coffee.

So he did something wild, something insane, something totally out of character for him.

He waited.

He waited until the train made its next stop, the one before his, and he moved quickly to sit across the aisle from the man.

“Hey,” he said before he could chicken out. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Hot Asshole turned to look at him slowly. “What do you mean?” He asked, all posh and British and refined, and wow, Anakin was beginning to understand the appeal of those love-hate, enemies-to-lovers, 100k slow burn type relationships. That was hot. Despite, or perhaps even more so because of, the man’s infuriating little eyebrow thing, it was really hot.

“Your stupid music,” Anakin heard himself saying, refusing to back down despite the sight in front of him. “Sir, are you aware that it’s August?”

The man smiled. Pretty, Anakin’s mind supplied. Shut up, he snapped back.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked, folding his hands over one knee, crossing it over the other.

Anakin blinked, slowly, trying to let his brain catch up. “Well, you’re. It’s. That’s a Halloween song,” he said, feeling dumber by the second.

“And?” The man was still smiling, all innocent, and Anakin was suddenly unsure if it was nerves or annoyance making his face flush.

“And, um—well—whoever you are, you’re singing Halloween music. It’s August.”

“I’m Obi-Wan,” the man said unhelpfully. “And I don’t see what the issue is. Spooky Scary Skeletons is about bones. The human body. Personally, I think bodies are relevant year-round, don’t you?”

No, it was definitely annoyance.

“That’s about spooky, scary skeletons. It’s a fucking Halloween song. And even if it was applicable, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been singing fucking Christmas music every day for the past three weeks.” Anakin gave the man his best glare, but it didn’t seem to phase him. On the contrary, he just smiled a little brighter.

“It’s just what’s been stuck in my head,” he said, sounding innocent. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“I—just—I—I want you to go out with me!” Okay, so Anakin didn’t mean to say that. In the slightest. And Obi-Wan was looking at him weirdly, and also, that wasn’t even a good solution to what Obi-Wan was asking, so Anakin opened his mouth to backtrack, but before he could—

“Okay.” Obi-Wan shrugged, smiling slightly. Anakin’s heart did a funny little somersault. “Is this your stop?”

And shit—it was, and Anakin hadn’t even gotten past the initial asking. No time to ask for horrible, hot, annoyingly heart-pounding Christmas Asshole’s number.

But that was fine. After all, Anakin was probably going to have to tell him to sing an appropriate song the next day, as well.

[hp-imagines-07]

Only You

Sirius Black x Fem!Gryffindor!MuggleBorn!Reader

Universe: Harry Potter; The Marauders era

Type: fluffy and ANGST (but with a happy ending, u'll love it, i swear)

Summary: [y/n] and Sirius' relationship is in danger... the request really

Request: YES|no - "Great so the idea I had was a Sirius x reader - regulus threatens the reader and says he will hurt Sirius or whatever if reader doesn’t break up with him . the reader doesn’t tell anyone and don’t listen to begin with then something happens so she feels she has no choice . Sirius is suspicious since lily told him that the reader said he is the one and also the fact she is avoiding everyone . Find out about it when they see regulus threaten reader and then Convinces the reader to get back together. Also the reader is muggle born." @rebsx​ thank you for the perfect request, hope you cry with me at the sad parts

Prompt: xxx

Warnings: cursing probably, heartbreak in slowburn(?) and threats maybe

Song: xxx

Word Count: 5.6K (i can't believe it's this big, i swear it wasn't my intention)

Posted: 28th of September 2020

A/N: i'm sorry that i took so long to write it... but i really hope you like it as much as i loved it (probably my best work until now)

My Others Accounts: @imagines-07 (Principal Account) | @obx-imagines-07 (Outer Banks) | @mcu-imagines-07 (Marvel Comics Universe) | @stit-imagines-07 (Stranger Things & IT) | @cm-imagines-07​ (Criminal Minds)

MY MASTERLIST

"See you after Charms, my love." Sirius says and kisses [y/n]'s forehead, before pecking her lips and walking away to his next class. She just smiles to herself and starts to walk up the stairs to the Fat Lady Portrait, going to spend her free period reading a book or doing nothing alone in the common room.

Having free periods like this are the worse, [y/n] can't even spend time with her boyfriend or any of her friends because she was the lucky one to have a free period on the last class of Wednesday while all of them were on Charms together.

As she was getting to the next staircase, it decided to change with all of the other ones. Her eyes rolled when the entrance of the Gryffindor common room just got more and more distant, and then she saw something weird...

Slytherins. Wait, not just ordinary Slytherins or one of the ones she shares tables at Potions, but Blacks. Regulus was in front of the other ones, walking down the stairs with Narcissa and Bellatrix just behind him. All that [y/n] was wishing was that the stairs they were while staring at her, wasn't going to meet with the one she was at. But luck wasn't by her side.

[y/n]'s hands held her up by holding the handrail at her right when the stairs stopped moving - even after 6 years, she couldn't get used to it - and her eyes founded the three Slytherins at the same staircase as her, going down the stairs with light steps that she wouldn't be able to listen if she wasn't looking at them.

'What in bloody hell would a Slytherin be doing at this part of the castle?'

[y/n] shook her head and all the weird thoughts went directly to the back of her mind, where they should stay and never get out. Her feet started to bring her up the long stairs she still had to walk to get to the common room and even with her huge and heavy bag filled with books of all the classes [y/n] had today, her legs were moving fast. It was probably the need to stay away from a few people that just hated her existence and stay in a safe place, but just maybe...

As they walked straight to each other, [y/n] could feel her heart beating at her throat and ears, chills going up and down her arms and legs, and a weird feeling in the deepest part of her heart. Her gut was screaming to her that something was off and that she should get to the common room as fast as her legs could take her up the almost infinity stair.

And with the fact that the unique people that she could see all around her were the Black cousins, [y/n] knew they were up to something. And just the thought that they were up to something while looking at her, made her hands cold and sweat and her knees feel weak.

As they finally got to each other, Regulus just took his hand out of his pocket and stopped you with a warning hand in front of your chest without even the need to touch you. [y/n]'s face turned towards them and the three of them were already looking at her with their characteristic expressions.

Regulus had one of his eyebrows raised and the corner of his lips that, if you squinted your eyes really hard, you could notice that it was a little upwards in a sly smirk. Narcissa had her serious face, without the slightest of emotion letting through her face, and even her eyes were as deep as the end of a maze can be. And Bellatrix had her wide smile, that could stay in any child's worst nightmares, with her big eyes as wide as her smile was.

"Uhm, hello?" [y/n] said with a delicate voice, just above a whisper, but even this low, she showed confidence. It doesn't matter if the girl was dying on the inside, she would never let anyone - especially them - know that they got under her skin. Never...

"We need to have a little chat with you, sister-in-law." It was Regulus strong and deep voice that cut the insides of her ears in fear with his sarcasm while using the nickname.

"Spill." Sirius' girlfriend said and crossed her arms across her chest, in a position of authority while she pretended to not notice Bellatrix's eyes that went directly to her bobs and the way the girl was shifting on her foot.

"The thing is that it's kinda complicated what I have to say to you. But it is an order from my parents, so I will have to say it in any way..." Regulus started and [y/n]'s left eyebrow raised without her even think about it and her right hand moved to put his hand down. "So, I need you to break up with my big brother."

The words seemed so funny that [y/n] tried she really tried to not laugh at it, but a chuckle got out from the back of her throat as the sentence hit her.

"Excuse you?"

"I am serious. And I didn't want to get in details, but my mother says that you are a terrible influence for Sirius and that you can't date him." Regulus explained to [y/n] but her head just shook in disbelief.

"Look, I'm so sorry to disappoint you. But if you think that I'm going to break up with the boy I love, all of you are dumber than what I thought you were." [y/n] said and started to walk upstairs again, just wanting to go back to her dorm or the common room and read the book Remus gave to her last weekend. "Thank you for your attention, but I won't."

"Ok, do whatever you want to do," Regulus said and his cousins looked at him with surprised faces, probably not expecting the way he accepted [y/n]'s decision. "But I should warn you that, my mother's orders were to do something with Sirius if you just decided to not listen to us. And that's what I will do." Your body froze five steps upwards the one he was in and four from the girls. "So, I am giving you until Friday. You have two days to break his little heart, or we will hurt him physically and we won't hesitate."

[y/n] gulped loudly with the words of the brother of her boyfriend and felt her fingers starting to shake. No, they wouldn't do this to Sirius... His own family? No, they couldn't. Right?

The thing was that she didn't know the answer and was afraid to find out.

-

Friday.

It was finally Friday and [y/n] didn't have the guts to break up with Sirius. She just couldn't.

And since the threaten, she has had a billion eyes to look out for Sirius. Every single second that he was away from her, she was worried sick about him, and all of their friends noticed the way that [y/n] couldn't stay mere seconds without her boyfriend, or she would start to freak out and look for him at every corner of the castle. [y/n] got paranoid when it was still Thursday.

And now, at her last class of Friday, she couldn't bring herself to change her gaze from Sirius to the professor, neither pay attention to the new subject. Lily's eyes were focused on her since the start of class, but [y/n] didn't even notice the redheaded strong gaze on her. And it was worrying Lily.

As the professor dismissed everyone, Lily ran behind [y/n] like a lost puppy, that was already outside the classroom looking around her like a mad man.

"Hi, babes. Can I talk to you?" Lily's voice was the sweetest she had ever heard but [y/n] still jumped scared with the sudden voice.

"Sorry, I can talk right now..." The other girl said and tried to turn around and run - probably to Sirius - but before she could breathe a little bit far from her best friend, Lily held her wrist and didn't say a word while she brought [y/n] to another corridor, an empty and quiet one. "What are you doing, Lily? I said I can't talk right now!" [y/n] hissed at her but Lily just rolled her eyes at the stubborn girl.

"Look, you've been acting weird since your free period on Wednesday, but today you're looking like you're paranoid. What's going on?" Lily asked with an expression of empathy and held both of [y/n]'s hands on hers, softly caressing her best friend's hands with her thumbs. "You can tell me."

[y/n]'s shoulders started to relax under her friend's warm touch, she felt her tense forehead starting to release of this tension and her vision being blurred by tears as she realized what she had gotten into. "I- I..." She didn't know how to tell for Lily about what [y/n] have been feeling lately, it was just too much to take care of alone. And then she let herself open up to her best friend, because if there was anyone that would listen to [y/n], was Lily. "I don't know how to say this, but-" Her weak voice was rudely stopped with a loud noise coming from a corridor close to the one they were on.

'Sirius!'

[y/n] ran away from Lily as fast as her legs could take her tired body from all the sleepless nights since Wednesday and the redheaded one followed just behind her friend with plenty question marks flying around her head.

As they got to the corridor, there were confused, scared and disgusted people with what was happening. [y/n] excused herself and passed through everyone that was on her way to the middle of the circle while people sent her rough looks.

When [y/n]'s eyes met Sirius, she felt the air finally coming back to her lungs, the color of the world coming back to her vision and the control of her moves coming back to her brain, with the view of Sirius completely fine.

"Oh, my Godric Gryffindor. What happened?" Lily's voice beside [y/n] brought her back to reality and she noticed Peter with a broken arm, just at Sirius' left.

"W-We don't know..." Remus said and fell on his knees to help Wormtail to stay up, when he noticed no one was going to help him, he looked around with raised eyebrows. "A little help here?"

James and Sirius didn't wait a second to help their friend in need and in a few seconds all of you were taking Peter to Madam Pomfrey.

[y/n] and Lily were holding Peter's broken arm in the air, so it wouldn't hurt any more with any touch or sudden move, while James carried Peter by his left side, Remus by his right and Sirius was guiding them while holding Peter's waist to make sure he wasn't going to fall.

"Don't worry, Wormtail. You're not going to die." Sirius said joking and just James laughed.

"What? I'm gonna die?"

"Nah, don't worry about it, Pete. It's just a broken arm." James said back but Peter's eyes just got bigger and as he turned his eyes to look at his arm, Remus put one of his hands on his friend's eyes before he could look at his arm in a position that it shouldn't be. Well, if looks could kill, Prongs would be six feet underground just by the glance Moony gave to him. "Sorry..." He whispered back and focused on trying to hold Peter on his feet.

As soon as Madam Pomfrey saw them, she thanked for their help, said that what they did was smart - bringing Peter to her directly and not trying to solve this by themselves - and asked for all of them to wait outside.

"My love," Sirius called [y/n] the same moment the both of them stepped out of the room. "can I talk to you for a second?" He asked and she just nodded as an answer while he held her hand in his and brought her to as far as they friends couldn't hear them. A second before Sirius could open his mouth to say what he wanted, [y/n] jumped on him.

Her arms hugged his neck and her forehead rested on his shoulder, it took a little bit to Sirius understand what was happening but not even a second after, he hugged her back with such as love and caring as she was.

He couldn't actually understand what was happening and even with [y/n/n] loving to hug him at all the times she could, Sirius knew there was something else there. "Hey, what is all this for?" He asked a few seconds later in the embrace and when he felt [y/n] starting to release her tight grip on him because of his question, his arms just held her body closer to his (if that was possible).

"I don't know... I was just worried that you were the hurt one." [y/n]'s voice was just above a whisper and Sirius felt his heart clench with the worry and sadness on her delicate voice.

"Well, I'll just let you worry because it was almost me.." Sirius trailed off and [y/n] felt her whole world stop as she sank the words in. She raised her head to look on Sirius' eyes and hoping to find that little glow from when he was joking or pranking someone. But it wasn't there. "The spell hit Peter because he accidentally stumbled and ended up in front of me..."

Oh, no...

"Sirius... I need to tell you something." That was it, [y/n] was going to tell him how his family was threatening her to break up with him or they would hurt him. This was going to end now. But then she saw him. [y/n] saw Regulus behind a group of people looking at her like he could read her mind - well, maybe he could... He knew she was going to tell Sirius about it. But she couldn't, or they would hurt him. "I-I-I..." She looked back at Sirius' gorgeous face, filled with love and empathy towards her. [y/n] couldn't do it. When her eyes looked at her feet she did it... "Sirius, I-I want to b-break up..."

-

Three days, eight hours, twenty-five minutes and ten seconds.

It's been three days, eight hours, twenty-five minutes and eleven seconds since [y/n] broke up with Sirius.

And they couldn't be worse without each other.

Neither of them left their dorm room for the weekend and if it wasn't for James and Lily, they wouldn't have eaten anything in those two days. Remus was starting to actually worry about Sirius and Marlene was worried like crazy about [y/n]...

But the problem was that, even Sirius was talking to his friends that he didn't know what to do without her, [y/n] wasn't...

She closed the curtains of her bed the second she sat at the bed but even after three days, eight hours, twenty-six minutes and four seconds, she didn't open it. And she wasn't going to until she could keep them closed.

The first night was torture to all of her friends. [y/n] tried, she really tried, but the loud and agonizing sobs were coming out of her in any way... She cried for the whole night all by herself. On the first ten minutes, Lily, Marlene and even Alice were trying to find a spell to open her curtains so they could help her friend and hold her, but nothing seemed to work.

After a while, they all went to their beds and when they thought she was going to stop crying, with a couple of seconds in silence, [y/n] wasn't able to hold it and she started crying harder. Marlene was silently crying on her bed with her face on her pillow, Alice went to her dorm and Lily tried to stay, but she couldn't take it, so she went to James' room. When she got there, Sirius bed was empty and they were all sleeping, Lily felt bad by coming here but as she turned around to walk away, James stopped her.

Anyone had ever seen Lily cry so much because of something...

Marlene was the unique one on the room with [y/n], she even thought of going somewhere else just to not listen to her best friend cry on that way, but she couldn't let her alone there.

[y/n]'s heart was aching like it was never before. Her first heartbreak, when her family forgot her birthday, when Sirius appeared with scars after summer break... Nothing compared to this moment where she had to hold herself while crying because she had a broken heart that would never be fixed again, and it was all her fault.

Well, that's what she was telling herself. Even with [y/n] wanting to stop thinking about anything - because literally had a way to get to Sirius Orion Black -, her brain was repeating like a mantra that it was happening because she wasn't the perfect girl for him.

While Sirius was bad...

Oh, the boy was heartbreak.

But he didn't want to think much about it, because he was still so confused about how everything just seemed to have collapsed after just a blink.

Because it felt like it, a second he was holding her and then he blinked and she broke up with him... All Sirius wanted was to understand what made [y/n] break his heart the way she has done, but he couldn't.

First of all, he could remember pretty well of when he was worried about her breaking up with him last month (when she was just doing a surprise for him) and Lily told him about how [y/n] said once how she knew he was the one. The one she wanted to be engaged with, married, live together, have kids with and have the happily ever after.

Lily also told him how [y/n] loved Sirius more than anything in this entire world and how she would do anything for him... So, it didn't fix it.

And he also thought about everything his brain could possibly think of that could be in any way a reason for her to break up with him and he wasn't understanding why nothing fixed!

Because even when [y/n]'s mouth was telling him she wanted to break up, her eyes couldn't even look inside of his and Sirius was able to read her better than a book. He saw by how her shoulders were down that she was already depressed before finishing her sentence, the way she started hyperventilate that she was trying to not cry in front of him, how her voice was failing on the middle of the words that she was holding down her sobs, the way she was nervously playing with her own fingers, her trembling lower lip, eyes that were screaming how she loved him... Everything was telling him that she didn't want to do it.

So, why did she?

That was the question that was haunting his thoughts since the first second he took to think about what had happened there.

Sirius thought that staying at the Astronomy Tower would help him to think about it, just like it had always helped [y/n] to study, but nothing was helping him...

Then he got frustrated with all of this bullshit. All he had to do was talk to [y/n], right? Then she would explain to him what actually happened and everything would be alright again because they would get back together and be happy just like they were.

And, while Sirius was thinking about what he was going to say to [y/n] so she would explain everything to him, Marlene, Lily and Alice woke up really early and ran to Professor McGonagall's classroom. If there was someone with more experience in heartbreaks than the girls and that would be willing to help [y/n] was Minerva.

It wasn't a lie to anyone that [y/n] was one of her favourite students - but if you ever told this to McGonagall, she would deny - and she would be happy to help.

So, when the girls explained to her why [y/n] wasn't there at class, why she also wasn't on the great hall for meals and how she was trying to stay distant from everyone, Minerva went right away with the girls to their dorm to check up on [y/l/n].

The same second the professor passed through the Fat Lady portrait, all the students at the common room during their free period looked at McGonagall like she was an alien inside of Hogwarts, maybe it was because she was supposed to be teaching Transfiguration to fifth years, but just maybe...

As they got close to the dorm's door, Marlene - that was the last one to leave - noticed that [y/n]'s sobs had finally stopped and all that they could hear were soft sniffles, heavy breathing and her bed creaking as [y/n] moved around to find a comfortable position that she hadn't been on the last days.

When the girls opened the door for Minerva, the first thing she noticed was the spell around the girl's bed so no one would bother her and if it was in another situation, the professor would be proud of her by such a well-done spell.

[y/n] was crying in a typical way without tears. Because there weren't any more tears to fall from her eyes.

"How long has it been?" Minerva asked while looking at the girls beside her that just shrugged her shoulders.

"Three days..." [y/n]'s raspy voice came out as a whisper but was stopped by a quiet sob. "Three days, ten hours, seven minutes and third-six seconds."

All the girls (and the woman) in the room felt their hearts clench with [y/n]'s hurt voice and how she knew exactly the time that had passed since the breakup. McGonagall, with just a shake of her wand and a whisper under her breath, made the spell open [y/n]'s curtains and in just a second they saw [y/n] wearing Sirius' quidditch jersey and her arms tightly holding one of her pillows to her chest as her legs tried to get closer to herself. She looked so vulnerable there, sitting alone at her bed, with swollen and red eyes...

Lily could feel that, if Sirius saw her like this, he would go back in time and make her sit at the right table on Potions Class, so she would never see how he was struggling with the potion, she would never have helped him to do it and they would never fall for each other.

Marlene was the fastest one to jump on [y/n]'s bed and hold her like their both lives depended on it.

Her soft arms wrapped around her best friend's body as [y/n]'s arms begrudgingly let go of her warm pillow, soon wrapping around Marlene's neck and gold blond hair. A single tear feel from [y/n]'s left eye, softly laying on her friend's shoulder.

Lily and Alice followed Marlene just right behind her and the three girls held their friend as close as they could. Minerva couldn't hold back the little smile that appeared on her face while seeing the girls caring so much about each other.

"Miss [y/l/n], I think you should get ready for your next class." McGonagall said softly and all the girls looked at her. [y/n] looked at her favourite professor with a grateful glance, that Minerva answered with a little nod.

The girls helped [y/n/n] get dressed, but even with her friends helping her, the girl just didn't seem to say anything to them about what happened between her and Sirius... But they knew that she was going to share with them every detail of her thoughts as soon as she was ready, and they just couldn't push it, even if they wanted to - which they didn't.

-

Sirius had been looking everywhere for [y/n].

Since he decided what he wanted and needed to say to her, Sirius ran downstairs from the Astronomy Tower and started to look for her at the corridors, classrooms, bathrooms, basically everywhere she could be, he had looked for.

His right hand went through his dark black locks in frustration as he looked around himself to see if he could grab a glimpse of [y/n]'s gorgeous [y/h/c] hair or anything that would make his mind scream to him that she was there and he should talk to her. But not even a red, gold blond or almost-white blond from any of the girls to give him some kind of hope that the love of his life could be any close to him.

All he noticed was a jet black hair, just like his, being followed by two other long dark hair. Regulus, Bellatrix and Narcissa. "What?" Sirius muttered to himself under his breath as he saw three of his family members walking to the staircases that led to the Gryffindor common room but the exact opposite way to the Slytherin one, with narrowed eyes...

Sirius didn't need to read minds to know that something was wrong. Something was telling him that he should go after them, that nothing good could come from it. So he did.

Sirius' black boots were tapping the castle floors through the crowds of students as silently as he could to not be seen by his family relatives as he followed them at the corridors. He was feeling like one of the spies from the muggle movies [y/n] had showed him before while hiding behind people, pillars, trash cans and anything he could use to not be noticed.

And then, the trio suddenly turned on an empty corridor, almost filed with fully darkness and Sirius stopped on the right side of the entrance to the hall. Just as he looked at it, Sirius felt his eyes shine with the beautiful sight that [y/n] was to his eyes. She didn't need much to be stunning...

'Wait...' He's thoughts stopped on the second that the reality fell upon him. 'Why are my brother and cousins talking to my girlfr-, ex-girlfriend, on a empty hall? And why does she look so scared?'

"[y/l/n]..." Regulus said and stopped in front of her, blocking her way and the light vision Sirius had of her.

"Look, I did exactly what asked me to, ok? Just let me be..." She snapped back with a trembling and weak voice that made Sirius want to run and just hold her in his arms again.

"We know and I just came here to say that my mother would be thankful for your help... If you weren't a mudblood, you know." Regulus said and Sirius' forehead frowned with anger and confusion. 'My mother asking [y/n/n] for a favor?'

"I didn't do it because your mother asked me to, I just broke up with Sirius because you were up to hurt him if i didn't do it. So, shut up because I don't need your mother's 'thank you's or anything else that comes from her." [y/n] said while poking Regulus' chest. "You should bother someone else with your puppies."

[y/n] passed through them, hitting her shoulder with Regulus' left one and Sirius felt like there was a light bulb above his head being turned on. It all finally made sense, the way that [y/n] didn't want to break up with him, the way she was worried sick with him the whole week, the way she almost freaked out when she thought that the spell hit Sirius and not Peter... And it was all his family's fault.

Sirius didn't know what to do to fix this hugeous mess that was happening just under his nose, but he knew that he needed to take his family threats and intentions far from him and his love before he went to talk to her.

He silently thanked Godric Gryffindor when [y/n] went to the other side of the corridor and didn't notice him there, eavesdropping on their serious conversation. Sirius would take care of this talk with her later...

Just when Regulus started to walk out of the scary corridor, Sirius stopped in front of his little brother, that nervously gulped loudly with the sight of the last person who should hear about their mother's plan.

"You know I love you, Reg. And I know it's not your fault, but if I ever see you talk to [y/n] again, you'd wished you never listened to mother for once." Sirius said calmly. "And don't forget to tell her that there's no way I'm gonna let this girl go, I love her more than anything in this entire world and any of you will take her away from me."

Sirius turned around and walked away from a scared and disappointed - with himself - Regulus and ran to find the unique girl who could make him do those crazy things and don't regret anything after...

Sirius even felt himself starting to hit a few people while he tried to pass through the slow people walking around but he didn't bring himself to stop and care about them while he had to look for her as fast as he could. His heartbeat was in an almost impossible speed, his hands sweating and lightly trembling with anticipation, his mind running around the whole castle while his body was trying to follow his thoughts... Until he saw her.

His whole world froze and all he could see was [y/n] calmly walking to her next class, just like everyone else around her - who his eyes didn't bother to focus or pay attention to. All Sirius was seeing was [y/n].

And before he could notice his movements or think of what he would do when he got to her, his legs were bringing him the closer he could get to her. And, when he thought that the world wasn't moving already, Sirius felt everything else disappear when [y/n] turned around by his hand touching her shoulder.

[y/n] have never looked more gorgeous to him before...

Even with the sore eyelids, the dark bag under her eyes, her without-life skin, her pale lips, her tired eyes and the frown on her forehead when her eyes captured the sight of him... [y/n] couldn't be anymore gorgeous even if she wanted to.

"Sirius?" Her surprised and confused whisper fell upon dead ears as Sirius grabbed the sides of her face and glued his lips on hers.

They've done it so many times before, but after passing days thinking that they would never do it again, made it as special as the very first time, two years ago, in their fourth year.

[y/n] didn't kissed back in the first seconds, but she didn't pull away neither. [y/n] knew she shouldn't, actually, she couldn't do it, but she just couldn't bring herself to stop it and pull away from Sirius' touch. And in a few seconds, she felt her whole body melt onto the kiss as [y/n] finally kissed him back.

Sirius felt a wave of relief pass through his body as it was a shock while [y/n] felt all her organs burning from inside out. At that moment, neither of them knew how they survived the last three days, fifteen hours, forty-three minutes and six seconds without feeling each other's touch.

Sirius' hands fell from her face to her waist like there was the place they belonged to and [y/n]'s hands ran in the direction of his dark hair, getting lost in there like it was the maze she was used of going every single day.

When [y/n] felt her mind dizzy with one of the best kisses they ever shared, she separated her lips from his, but just enough for them to be felt almost touching, their foreheads touching and their hot breathes mixing.

"Sirius, wh-" [y/n] started, but before she could keep going, Sirius abruptly interrupted her.

"I know the truth." [y/n] could have opened her eyes wide as a fish if they weren't glued closed with tiredness. "And I don't care. They took a lot from me, but they're not taking you, just over my dead body..." Sirius said and took a breath to keep going. "I love you, I want you. I only care about you. I don't care about what they think is right for me, because it's you. Only you, [y/n]."

"I love you too, Siri." That was all that [y/n] could let out with a trembling voice but with the biggest certain that she ever had about anything in this world.

They needed each other and nothing would be on their way to happiness and love.

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

+ bonus: (Sirius' letter to his mother)

Dear Mother, hope you and father are going well, even if you don't care about me. I think you heard from someone (probably Reg) that your master plan wasn't so good and it didn't work out... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry if you think I'm ever going to stay away from [y/n]. I love her more than I've ever loved anything in this world and I don't care about her blood status - which just makes me love her more. I think you won't understand me because your marriage wasn't pretty much your choice, but all I'm asking you is to let her alone. Every single choice I've done until now were decided by me, and anyone else should take the consequences for it. If you ever have a problem with me, I don't want you to make Regulus do your dirty little job, I want for you to talk to me. Thank you for reading so far and I won't be coming home anymore, neither receiving any letters from you. So, enjoy this picture of me and my gorgeous girlfriend, being happy on a beautiful sunset, just the two of us. I love her and only her, hope someday you'll understand that she's an amazing woman and deserve all the happiness and love the world can give her. Goodbye, mother... Sincerely, Sirius Orion Black.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Taglist:

@cheapglitter @weasleysmuch @missmulti @writtenbypics @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer @dralf0yy @buff-bork @rd155 @seppys-return-to-madness @luciferedits @old-soul-young-mind @pxtrickhxckstettxr @sleep-i-ness @marauderswhisperer @liberty01 @gweaslvy @weasleytwins-41 @siriuslysirius07 @turtlepad @ilovewinter101 @monimillion @simonsbluee @smokey102​ @aberette13 @yourbloodyqueen @loverboyreid @eeshea @susceptible-but-siriusexual @weareloserstogether​

[jincherie]

potion 609 | pjm & ksj

- COMMISSION -

✩ — pairing: seokjinx reader x jimin ✩ — genre: poly, magic au, roadtrip au, mutual pining, borderline crack, fluff, slight angst ✩ — words: 10.8k ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — warnings: *sobbing* they’re so stupid man, they’re so stupid ✩ — notes: this took a bit longer than expected, if only because like everyone else in the world rn I’ve had a few unprecedented issues in my life pop up to deal with. I hope u all are well and if you’re not, that you get better soon. please enjoy this mess! <3

A four day roadtrip into the depths of the mountains with the two best friends you’ve recently realised you have feelings for is probably the last thing you need. It becomes a reality, though, when Seokjin and Jimin bring home a cursed doll that reacts with the potion you were making and lands you all cursed yourselves; both forced to say whatever comes to mind and bound to each other. Now stuck in close quarters with your two idiot best friends who for the life of them can not shut up for the foreseeable future while you venture to fix this, you’re beginning to doubt whether you or your heart can survive this trip in one piece.

masterlist | — posted; 24.03.2020

“Oh my god… y/n. What have you done?”

You glare, hard, at the male standing dead in the middle of the room, currently in the midst of being accosted by two idiots you happen to call your best friends. If you hadn’t thought quick and chugged a silencing potion before frantically texting Namjoon, you have no doubt you’d be stuck in the same situation as them right now.

“Please, please, please help us!” Jimin is clutching your professor by the arms, shaking him like a madman. Some of the goo coating his soiled silken grey shirt flings onto your professor’s, and you watch him physically recoil. “I can’t live like this! Jin might be hot but he’s so incredibly stupid and if I have to listen to his unfiltered thoughts all day every day I’m going to lose my [quack]ing mind!”

As much as it pains you, you’re so stressed and exasperated right now that you can’t even laugh at the fact that your professor has spent all of two minutes in the room and already has cast one of his stupid censoring spells on the two of them.

“Excuse me?” Seokjin sounds, smacking Jimin on the arm. “You think I’m hot? Why don’t you tell me more often!! You know I like hearing it! You’re so stingy, honestly. No wonder y/n likes me more.”

At Seokjin’s unwitting confirmation of Jimin’s words, the shorter male turns a look of absolute plea to your professor, grip tightening. The man in his hold then turns to you, looking an odd cross between bewildered and annoyed. Before he says anything more, the two idiots continuing to bicker beyond him, a voice sounds from behind you.

“She can’t talk,” Namjoon supplies smoothly, stepping to your side and slinging his arm around your shoulder with a dimpled grin. “The potion seems to have had the opposite effect on her, oddly enough.”

You resist the urge to spin and pin the male with an impressed look at how smoothly he just pulled that out of his ass, especially after performing a strong silencing spell on you barely a minute ago.

“Well, these two can definitely talk,” your professor says, and the deadpan tone and expression coming from him, someone who is usually so mild mannered and sweet, almost makes you choke on your own spit. Even if you wanted to laugh, Namjoon’s silencing spells are no joke and you can’t let out even the slightest of chuckles.  “It seems that not only has the potion bound all those covered in its contents—the three of them—but these two in particular… It seems as though their filters are completely gone, and they’re just saying everything that comes to the top of their head. And I mean— everything.”

Namjoon makes a pitying sound, giving your professor an empathetic look. Meanwhile you are standing and contemplating whether it would be a better option to throw yourself off the nearest bridge rather than stay and deal with this mess. It’s tempting, you admit, but one thing stands in the way…

You look down, catching sight of the translucent, glowing cord of runes and sigils that winds around your wrist, trailing off in the direction of the bickering duo a few metres away. A wave of something like exasperation floods through you, tinged with hints of self-pity.

Of course one of the side effects of this stupid cursed mishap is that you physically cannot stray more than 3 metres from dumb and dumber over there. Like, at all. You’ve tried. It was a massive effort just to get them close enough to the doorway that you could go into the other room with Namjoon so he could give you a hit of magical shut-up juice.

“Please help us!” Jimin whines, louder than before. He is successful in capturing the attention of the entire room, and he stomps his foot. “Professor Lim, please! Have I not been the best student you could ever ask for? Helping in your shop and bringing you cursed items from across the globe?”

Once he starts, he doesn’t stop—which isn’t all that different from usual except this time it’s like you’ve twisted a tap on and the handle has then broken, leaving the pipe jetting out water with no way of cutting it off. You think you’re really going to go insane if you’re stuck with these two any longer.

“I can’t help you!” your professor bursts, tearing himself away from your friends’ pleading grips. “Look, I have no idea what on earth y/n was attempting to cook up in there that made it react with the cursed doll like that—”

I was EXPERIMENTING, you defend silently, thankfully unable to voice your thoughts.

“—but it’s out of my jurisdiction, boys. Judging from the runes on those bindings this is some high level magic, and kind of, uh… niche. I only know barely a handful of people that might be able to help.”

“Who?” Jimin and Seokjin demand at the same time, eyes wide with hope—for all of Seokjin’s rebuttals to Jimin’s earlier whining, he doesn’t seem too overjoyed at the prospect of being stuck with him for longer than necessary either.

At the question, your professor gives a somewhat sheepish laugh. “Uh, well… the closest is a witch I knew back in my university student days. She’s not that far geographically, but she lives at the top of one of the mountains in Dusk Dew Valley and the magic of the forest means you can’t zap in or out so… you’re gonna have to drive.”

“That’s not so bad,” Seokjin comments, at the same time that Jimin squints, suspicious.

“How long?”

Your professor clears his throat, averting his gaze—personally, you’re on the edge of your metaphorical seat. “Uh,” he begins awkwardly, like he wishes he didn’t have to say what he is going to next. “Probably about… four? …five days?”

Aside from the background sound of cursed goo sliding down the walls and plopping onto the floor in fat, glutinous globs, the room is silent. Your gaze goes from your wrist, to the ugly doll on the floor a few feet away (where it landed in the midst of the blast—they hadn’t gotten very far into the room before things went south) and then to Jimin and Seokjin, who have been your closest friends for the better part of your adult life and with whom normally you wouldn’t mind spending such an amount of time with.

Except, thing’s aren’t really as they are normally, and lately you’ve started noticing some feelings rising within you that are getting harder and harder to squash. You don’t think you can make it out of this in once piece, and a look to the side reveals Namjoon’s doubtful expression that tells you he thinks the same.

 [ DAY ONE ]

The trip, for the few hours you’ve been on it so far, has proved to be taxing in more ways than one. Case in point:

“Namjoon! Stop playing that hippy garbage and show us your mixtape! What are you, a coward?”

Next to you, you can sense Namjoon’s hands tighten on the wheel—you might have fought tooth and nail to get shotgun but he’d been coerced somewhat unwillingly into the driving seat. He has a provisional licence and still has some supervised driving hours to complete, so it was with a pout that he climbed in next to you earlier today and has been behind the wheel ever since.

The reason for the twitch that’s developed under his eye and the white tint of his knuckles as they grip the wheel lies in the seats behind you—Seokjin and Jimin have been running their mouths for the better part of the last few hours and don’t seem like they’re going to be shutting up anytime soon. To be fair, at the start they were just talking about normal things, but then one of them said something somewhat antagonistic about an hour and a half in and they haven’t stopped bickering since.

In the seat behind them, Jungkook and Taehyung – two friends who had somehow been roped into this abridged roadtrip— sit with looks of pure, unadulterated regret on their faces.

“This is my mixtape,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, Seokjin shrinking back into his seat in response with a chastised look. It takes all of a split second for Jimin to snicker, no chance for sweet, sweet silence to bloom before they’re back to bickering once more. You almost give in to the urge to slam your head against the dash again. Almost.

“Why couldn’t they both have turned out like y/n?” you hear Jungkook question in something that must be his attempt at a whisper (yet that still reaches you at the front of the car). Taehyung sighs, like the weight of the world has suddenly rested itself on his shoulders and he now finds himself with the task of carrying it for the rest of eternity.

“They’re too stupid,” Taehyung answers, somewhat cryptically. By some show of mercy from up above, neither of the two idiots in question hear him insulting them.

You squint at Taehyung through the rear-view mirror, wondering if he’s onto you. He doesn’t seem like it, what with him now playing ‘I Spy’ with Jungkook and cheating with his magic, but then again you know Taehyung to be awfully perceptive when he needs to be. You’ll have to ask Namjoon to make sure he doesn’t blab to dumb and dumber behind you or you’ll never hear the end of it.

“You know what? This wouldn’t have happened if y/n didn’t pick you up like a stray dog in her second year!”

Ears alert at the sound of your name, you turn your head to nail the two with a suspicious look while Namjoon keeps his eyes pointedly to the front and on the road carving a path between thick rainforest greenery. Seokjin is sputtering at what Jimin just announced, eyes whipping between you and Jimin incredulously. He has the exact look on his face that a child does right before they tattle on their older sibling to their mother for being mean to them.

It really is like raising two kids though, honestly, you lament. You should see if you can get family benefits from the government.

“Excuse me? If anything, I picked you two up like strays. You should have seen her that first day she came up to me, all pleading with these puppy dog eyes, asking if I would be her mentor. She was so pitiful I couldn’t bear to say no.”

WHAT?! That’s not how that went! You glare at Seokjin for spewing mistruths, reaching for something to throw at him in the front cup holder. He has a look of regret on his face, like what he said was never meant to enter the air, but it’s out now and you’re gonna pelt something at him for it. It’s their fault they’re cursed to say whatever the hell comes to mind, anyway. It’s just unfortunate that 80% of the things that come to Seokjin’s mind happen to be things that shouldn’t be said out loud. You’d say the same for Jimin but his percentage is a little lower, more like 50-60%, so you’ll let him live for now.

“Oh my gods that is ENOUGH! Both of you shut up! Please! Or so help me Hecate I will turn this car around and dump you two on the side of the road to walk!”

Surprisingly, Namjoon’s reprimand works and the two males snap their mouths shut, eyes wide. You haven’t forgiven Seokjin for his sleight, so you make sure he sees you glaring before you turn back around. You can hear him gulp.

Before you met Seokjin in one of your classes at the academy, it had always been you and Jimin. The two of you grew up in the same gated community in the same cul-de-sac—you with your aunt, and him with his incredibly rich and highly esteemed parents. You always saw his parents before you ever saw him, and (somewhat unfairly) you judged from their stony expressions and default looks of disdain that he’d be just like them—cold, stuck up and probably someone who would bully you for not living in a home with actual parents. It was a bit of a sore spot for you back then.

To your complete and utter surprise, everything you assumed of him was turned on its head when he found you at the park one day, angry-crying in embarrassment due to the nasty fall you’d just had. Some other kids had dared you to do a trick on the swings that required some air magic, but you’re not very strong in that area. Yet, like the stupid, proud child you were, you attempted it anyway and ended up scraping your knees raw at the edge of the playground. Not wanting to get in trouble and terrified at the sight of blood, they’d fled and left you there gritting your teeth and trying not to wail in pain. You were in the middle of plotting your revenge on each and every one of them while pressing a hand to your knees when a voice had sounded from beside you and scared the living daylights out of you.

“Hey… are you okay?”

Honestly, he had been so sweet and kind that you didn’t even realise straight away that he was the same child that lived in the house across from yours. From the beginning you couldn’t stay strong against his big, puppy eyes, and you ended up letting him help when he offered. You always were a bit better with plants and herbs, trees flowering when you tickled them and dandelions dancing around you in glee as you passed through meadows on the way to school. That didn’t help much in the area of healing, though.

Jimin, you were surprised to learn, actually was quite adept at healing magic, despite his affinity being for water—or maybe that’s part of the reason why. He’d wiped the tears on your cheeks and pressed them to your knees with small, careful hands—they’d glowed before your eyes and a tingle and a tickle later, they were completely scuff free—smoother than they had been when you were a baby, you remember marvelling in awe.

That moment then, you’ve concluded many times, was the moment you first started to like Park Jimin.

All through high school, you liked him. Sometimes painfully so. Eventually, even without the nurturing and watering that comes with requited feelings, that bloomed into something a little too alike love. Right as you entered your undergraduate at the academy, you decided to do yourself a favour and attempted to squash that flower down, to rip it out of your heart. But alas, it was rooted too deep. You were helpless but to continue dealing with those feelings.

That is, until Seokjin came along.

You could say that he was your next infatuation, but it was a little more complicated than that at the time. The way that you came to like him… is a little different.

You might have developed your crush on Jimin instantly as a child, but with Seokjin the feelings built slowly within you for weeks as you sat with him in classes and began to hang out with him outside them. It was the kind of thing that you don’t realise until it smacks you suddenly in the face one day at the most inconvenient time—for you, you realised the feelings that had blossomed within you one afternoon at an ice cream parlour after watching Seokjin shove the entire dessert into his mouth on a dare, ending up looking like a chipmunk with crushed waffle cone threatening to escape the seal of his lips every time he laughed. It was gross as hell and you’d never been more stupidly attracted to him in your life.

Seokjin eventually was absorbed into your little friend circle, and that’s how it has been for the past two years. The two of them bicker often, but it’s usually playful and it’s just the type of dynamic they happened to fall into. You’re growing a little concerned now though, because it feels like these arguments are slowly getting more and more serious now that they don’t have the ability to exercise their filter.

Frowning to yourself in thought, you turn your gaze out the window and try not to think about it too hard. This roadtrip will be over before you know it! Surely!

— X—

 “JIMIN! YOU ALMOST SET MY PANTS ON FIRE! STOP, Y—OH my god you ACTUALLY DID! JIMIN!”

Chaos.

That’s what has overtaken your small little roadside camp. As it grew dark and Namjoon grew tired after driving all day, all of you had made the unanimous decision to stop for the night and set up camp. It was part of the reason Taehyung and Jungkook had agreed to come—they’re always down for an adventure and they’d never been into these mountains.

Yoongi and Hoseok, two other friends that ended up joining your troupe as an extension of Seokjin, had only agreed to come along because they are, in fact, huge plant nerds—and this forest is full of magical flora that Hoseok went absolutely starry-eyed at the mention of. They brought their own car and hence didn’t have to deal with the vexing nature of the journey in the company of Seokjin and Jimin, but they were quickly enlightened once you all stopped to set up camp.

Hoseok is the one that screamed, and considering the flames currently licking the dark material of his slacks, you think he’s well within his rights. A part of you is worried you’re about to be set alight as well, but the rest of you is catching up with what you just saw.

Jimin’s magical affinity, as you’ve known ever since you were kids, is for water. Seokjin’s, as you found out quickly after meeting him in college because he likes to show off, is for heat, and combustion. Put plainly, his affinity is fire.

And yet, when Jimin went to magically pull the water out of Hoseok’s pants after Jungkook spilled the ramen pot on him, it hadn’t exactly gone as anyone expected. For one, Jimin’s hands had glowed pink instead of blue, and instead of seeing water seep out of Hoseok’s pant leg, the entire camp watched as a spark formed from Jimin’s fingertips and went flying towards it.

Long story short; Hoseok’s pants are now on fire and Jimin is freaking out.

The campers that aren’t currently affected (read: everyone but Hoseok and Jimin) are instead almost wetting themselves in laughter at the situation.

“If this is a joke it isn’t funny!” Jimin exclaims, waving his hand in the air. You don’t know whether to focus on him or on Hoseok leaping out of his pants behind him and throwing them on the ground to stomp the flames out. Both are funny, especially when Jimin’s frantic waving doesn’t conjure water as he desired but instead more sparks.

“JIMIN NO!”

The rest of the camp pauses their laughter and scrambles in alarm to dodge the sparks falling, diving out of chairs and rolling out of the way in their desperation—well, everyone but Seokjin, who is currently laughing so hard his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s rolling on the ground in a different way. You make a face of disdain—you could have chosen anyone in the world to befriend and subsequently fall in love with, and you chose these two? You’re a little disappointed in yourself.

“I can’t believe it!” Seokjin is howling, cradling his stomach as he curls on the ground. You wince at the leaves currently tangling in his hair. “Are you telling me you didn’t—didn’t know our powers swapped? Oh my gods, Jimin—”

Your gaze whips to the shorter male, who looks like the visual definition of both unimpressed and murderous. “Are you saying you knew? And you didn’t tell me! You ass—”

A sense of resignation settles within you as you anticipate another fight on the horizon. Their bickering has only worsened through the day, and at this point you’re not above physically gagging them. You brought spare socks, babey.

“Of course I knew! I sneezed in the bathroom earlier and had my ass suddenly embraced in cold water. Are you telling me you didn’t notice when we were drinking juice boxes before and the straws kept melting in your hands?”

Well, everything you’re hearing is news to you—you had no idea before this incident that their powers had been mixed up as well as everything else. They are masters of their own affinity, but have no experience whatsoever with the other’s, so you’re anticipating (regretfully) a lot more incidents like this.

At first Jimin’s face is contorted in something like sympathy and disgust, but that quickly shifts into embarrassment—the tips of his ears join his cheeks in flushing pink.

“No, I thought I was just sitting too close to the fire!” he retorts, pointing a finger at the older male. “I never use fire for anything, how was I supposed to know?!”

Seokjin opens his big mouth to fire something back, but is thankfully stopped in his tracks by Yoongi cramming a pizza slice in there. Seokjin immediately starts chewing like the action triggered some evolutionary reflex, like when you put a finger in a baby’s hand and they grip on instinct.

“Can you both shut up?” he grouches, only bold enough to send Jimin a glare since Seokjin is older than him; it doesn’t stop him from running his mouth at him, though. “I can and I will mix something up to knock you out. Hell, I’ll even get y/n to help—I hear her potion is part of what landed you in this mess.”

You were not expecting to be dragged through the dirt at the end of that. You send the male a glare, flipping him the bird before stomping off to go get some of the desserts from the car. He’s lucky you already silenced yourself or you’d be ripping him a new one by now.

Stupid! Stupid boys! All men do is talk, eat hot pizza and LIE!

Thankfully, you have time to cool off before dinner is over, the atmosphere mollifying now that Jimin and Seokjin’s lives have been threatened and their fear of god (or rather, fear of one Min Yoongi) has rendered them silent once more. You almost forget they were even bickering earlier until it comes time to retire for the night and tents have to be allocated.

Of course, after the day and dinner you’d all just had, it was decided unanimously by all those not currently afflicted by a curse that you, Seokjin and Jimin should share a tent. The others happily retreated to the two other tents set up by the cars, and before you could even smack someone in protest they were gone.

Ten minutes and your entire nightly routine later finds you laying on a king-sized blow-up mattress, squished between your two best friends with the blanket up to your chin. Surprisingly, despite the bickering that occurred when choosing tents, they’re silent now—but not asleep. The occasional sigh gives them away. It’s dark, but the moonlight filtering in through the material of the tent allows you to see the planes of their faces a little more clearly. Both are frowning slightly, Jimin staring at the ceiling and Seokjin looking at the runes over his wrist.

You want to sleep, but the air is heavy with the weight of something yet to be said.

“We’re… sorry, y/n.”

You turn to Seokjin in surprise, eyes taking a moment to adjust to his profile. He’s avoiding your gaze; you feel Jimin’s head turning to face the older male as well. Seokjin sighs, closing his eyes and carding a hand through his charcoal-coloured hair. 

“This is our fault,” he continues, resting his hands atop the blanket, over his stomach.

“Hyung,” Jimin voices, tone cautioning. It piques your interest and you file it away for later.

Seokjin turns his head, looking at Jimin for a long moment before turning it further and looking at you. You can’t help but wonder what he just said to the other with his gaze, but for now you’re taken with the soft glisten of his eyes as they meet your own.

“Sorry,” he repeats, clamping his mouth shut after. You squint at him for a long few seconds before releasing him from your gaze and shrugging.

You’re forgiven, I guess. Especially since this is technically also my fault, even though I didn’t know that stupid charmed perfumes could react with cursed dolls… where on earth did they even get that thing?

At your shrug, Seokjin grins brightly. “Great, now that you’ve forgiven us, I have a favour to ask.”

You’re not left wondering what he means for long, because in the next second he rolls over, turning his back to you.

“Can you spoon me? I wanna be the little spoon tonight. Makes me feel safe.”

Letting out the biggest sigh you think you ever have in your life, you roll your eyes but oblige his request and shuffle over to slip your arms around his waist and hug him from behind. He can’t see your smile, so you don’t have to worry about saving face.

“Seriously? Right in front of my salad…”

You reach behind to smack Jimin, and he laughs, quickly scooting over to follow your suit and slip his arms around your waist, curving his body around yours. It makes your heart race, and for the sake of your sanity you pretend that you don’t have one and so don’t have to deal with its traitorous reactions. Heart, what heart? It’s Donut Tuesdays that keeps your blood pumping, babey!

Now that the air is clear and warmth seeps between the three of you, runes around your wrists glowing brighter than before, it doesn’t take long at all before the three of you pass out, slipping eagerly into the tender embrace of sleep.

 [DAY THREE]

Needless to say, the tranquillity of that night did not last very long at all.

You’re on the third day of the trip, with at least one more expected to go, and for the duration of today’s drive, the entire car has been in a foul mood. Last you saw Yoongi and Hoseok, they were grumpy too, but you don’t doubt now that they’re away from the bickering duo causing you all such stress that they’re in much better spirits. Sadly, the same can’t be said for you, or anyone else stuck in the same car as you.

Today’s driver is Taehyung, and you swear you’ve seen the thought to drive the car into a ditch flick through his gaze more than twice in the past few minutes alone. It alarmed you at first, but now you’d welcome it, to be honest. Anything to escape your current reality.

You already knew that Seokjin and Jimin enjoyed talking and hearing their own voices, but never before have you been faced with such a long, extended situation where they just do not shut up. It’s wearing you down, you have to admit. As Namjoon’s silencing spell wore off last night, you almost blew your cover and tore into them for it. They just can’t help themselves! They’re lucky that your priority is making sure that your thoughts aren’t revealed to the air, so much that you forwent killing them in favour of topping up the silencing spell.

There are some things that have been lurking on the tip of your tongue in the past few months that you just cannot risk saying aloud. You’d rather lose said tongue.

Everyone has long since given up attempting to shut your two idiot friends up, and so your suffering continues, unabated.

“You wanna bring up all the times someone has ditched for selfish reasons? Alright, how about we talk about all the times you skipped movie night because you ‘had a pop quiz to study for’, when really you were out sleeping with half the students in your Aquatic Magics class!”

While you might have been expecting something petty to come out of Seokjin’s mouth, you most definitely weren’t expecting that. Your head whips around at lightning speed, wide eyes locking onto Jimin who looks like he’s just been electrocuted. He sputters, eyes flicking from you to Seokjin rapidly.

Lately, in the past few months, Jimin has been calling in rainchecks for your weekly movie nights. Usually the three of you relish in the opportunity to sit back and relax, and none of you were inclined to skip, but Jimin had told the both of you that the professor he’d gotten this semester is particularly fond of giving weighted pop quizzes. Now that you’re thinking about it, he’d actually skipped more times than he’d attended this this year so far...

You hadn’t even suspected anything before now, but meeting his gaze reveals all you need to know that he’s guilty of what Seokjin said. Immediately, you’re incensed.

You selfish—

He’s lucky you’re magically silenced right now, but Seokjin can still talk, and that seems to be a problem for him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, scowling at Seokjin.

“I saw you on my cousin’s tinder and she told me all about what you’ve been up to the past few months! Said you’ve made your way through almost all of her friends at this point, and always on a Friday—our movie day!” Your mouth drops open as Seokjin flings Jimin’s dirty laundry into the air for all to see. Jungkook lets out a hiss through his teeth, wincing.

“My god, hyung, you’re a whore—”

“I would have said fuckboy,” Namjoon interrupts the youngest to supply helpfully, keen to exact some form of revenge on Jimin for the suffering he’s had to endure in the past three days.

“I am NOT a fuckboy!” Jimin squawks and his face goes so red you’re sure he’s going to combust. “I’m not just some—I have feelings! I’m capable of having feelings for someone!”

“Yeah, you’re really proving it with all your escapades you ditcher,” Seokjin folds his arms, scowling at the younger. Nice! You applaud him in your head. “Good to know your friends mean so much to you that you’ll drop them at a moment’s notice for a quick fuck!”

“How can you say that when you know that just like you, I like—” As quick and heated as he starts off, Jimin suddenly cuts off, snapping his mouth shut with wide eyes.

The car is silent, even Taehyung’s ears perked in their direction. Confusion takes up most of your brain space—had he just been about to reveal that he likes someone? At once, your heart skips a beat and squeezes painfully. Do you want to know who it is, when you also know it can’t be you?

Because why would Jimin blow off nights he is meant to spend with you to play around with other girls, if you were the one he liked?

Trying to keep your face schooled, you turn back to the front, sinking into your seat slightly and missing the way Taehyung’s gaze flicks to you as you do so. You wish that things had stayed as they were, when you’d moved on from Jimin and you only had Seokjin on the brain. It wasn’t that long ago, but unfortunately for you, it’s no longer the case. Your brain and heart have never been so overloaded.

Evidently feelings for Jimin aren’t like the chicken pox, and you can catch them again.

Even stewing in your own thoughts as you are, the prolonged silence confuses you when you notice it a few moments later. Unable to help yourself, your eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror, catching sight of the way Seokjin is sitting, scowl from earlier replaced by a look of deep thought, his brows furrowed and arms still crossed. For a minute you puzzle over why exactly he is being quiet when Jimin was the one under fire, replaying the events of the conversation over in your head once more. You freeze when it strikes you, your own face scrunching in thought.

"How can you say that when you know that just like you, I like..."

For a second you sit in shock, a slight cut of betrayal skirting around your heart. Are they serious-- both your best friends have feelings for someone and have told each other, but not you? Disregarding your own refusal to admit your crush/es to them (mainly because they are the crush/es in question), you don't think you've ever felt so betrayed in your life. If your crush wasn't incriminating to admit out loud, they would be the first to know! You focus on the feelings resulting from their treachery that are drifting over you so that the sting of knowing that they like someone else is a little less noticeable.

This trip is a disaster and as soon as you can speak again you're filing for friend divorce.

x--x--x

Oddly enough, the rest of the day is spent in almost silence. Apparently that last little argument finally taught the two of them a lesson, because they haven't uttered a word since. You caught them glaring at each other once or twice, but apart from that there was a distinct lack of JinMin bickering. Taehyung's mood was quick to turn around after that, and he made sure to turn the music up so that if they started talking again he wouldn't hear it. Jungkook and Namjoon seemed relieved that they could finally have their own conversation, and you... well, you spent the rest of the day's trip staring out the window and blasting your own music, like a moody teenager.

Needless to say, you're in a bit of a funk. One might even say you're upset.

You can't believe them! How much else do they withhold from you and only tell each other? You feel like you don't even know them right now, and do your best to make sure they know it by glaring at them every time they meet your eyes. Because of this, setting up tonight's camp teeters on being a slightly uncomfortable affair.

You're so annoyed (and hurt, but you're not acknowledging that emotion yet) that when dessert is brought out, you even go so far as to take the last piece of their favourite one. The looks on their faces as you cram the entire strawberry crepe cake slice into your mouth in one go is almost funny enough to redeem them, but by this point you've had all afternoon to stew and you're not going to be having a change of heart any time soon.

By the time it's late enough for everyone to be retiring, you've pointedly ignored the two males enough that when you look up and don't see them anywhere, you have no idea where they've gone. Apparently your confusion is in plain view for the rest of the group to see, because Namjoon snorts. When you look over, he speaks.

"They went to grab their toiletries from the car," he informs you, rocking dangerously on the camping chair he's currently seated in. "I heard one of them call the other a tart on the way over though, so they're probably fighting again by now."

You huff, wondering if they've even noticed you're upset with them. Well, it's not like they'd said anything to you-- then again, that is precisely the problem. But still, they're stupid and you don't know if they've connected the dots yet. It's not that hard though!

...Are you overreacting?

It's possible. Learning that they like someone, and intuitively knowing it isn't you, well... it's done a bit of a number on your ego and your heart, and maybe you're overcompensating. Not for the first time, you wonder if there is a potion that can numb your heart and cancel out feelings. That would be great!

"You're wondering if they've noticed you're mad at them?" Taehyung's low register surprises you when it sounds next to you-- you didn't realise that he'd moved seats. Given your attention, he continues, "They most definitely have. Although, they're kind of stupid, so they can't agree on why you are."

"To their credit, they both realise it's something they've said." Namjoon drags a hand down his face with a sigh, "Except the thing is, they've both said so damn much."

You frown, tilting your head in thought; your eyes end up staring unfocused at Jungkook where he sits across the fire, poking his finger in the dirt and making flowers sprout. Your best friends? Having some degree of self-awareness? It seems almost too good to be true.

Yoongi and Hoseok have plodded off in the midst of your zoning out, apparently going to look for a certain mushroom that has unique magical properties and happens to grow near here. Gradually, the other three sitting with you disperse and you use a minor spell to reduce the flames of the campfire to a smolder. You figure it's been long enough that Seokjin and Jimin are probably back at your tent by now (you were really zoned out just then, so you have no idea if they went past or not), so you head to the car to grab your own toiletries and go about your nightly routine. Just because you're on the road doesn't mean you can afford to neglect your skin.

Considering you expected silence and an empty space when you rounded Yoongi's car and turned towards the van, you're more than a little surprised to both see and hear people. Immediately, you halt, expecting them to turn and notice you, but they’re so wrapped up in their own conversation that they have no idea you’re there. It only takes you a moment longer to realise it’s Jimin and Seokjin, who apparently haven’t succeeded in actually getting their toiletries and have instead been talking this whole time. 

Well, you don’t know if you can call it just talking.

They’re arguing again, you can tell that clearly, but for once you have no idea what is being said. What you can catch of their voices is hushed and somewhat vexed, emphasised by the occasional arm movement and finger jab. You’re tempted to step closer just so you can hear what they’re discussing so angrily, but don’t even get a chance to properly consider it before Seokjin is snapping loudly and answering your unspoken question.

“You know what we read! We both read it! So the fact you almost said in the car—”

“But I didn’t say anything,” Jimin snaps back, sounding crankier than you’ve ever heard him. His eyes are dark and he leans forward as he speaks, tense. “But you know what, if it bothers you so much, and you want it to be you, then why don’t you say something? Why haven’t you said anything before now? Nothing is stopping you!”

Seokjin’s response is lower than you can catch, heated if the tension in his shoulders is anything to go by. What Jimin says next is also spoken lower than you can hear, but Seokjin does you a favour in the next second when his voice raises in outrage.

“--you wanna know why? Huh? Maybe it’s because I realised lately that it’s not just that—  I like you!”

You freeze, an ellipsis materialising in your brain in the stead of any coherent thought. The world around you and the conversation in front of you doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

 Jimin blinks, mouth open in preparation to throw back a retort. He shuts it, something passing through his gaze that you can’t quite discern. He speaks a moment later, but you can only catch bits and pieces of it. “Both…? Seokjin… stupid idiot…”

The next bit comes clear as day to your ears, though.

“I like you too…”

All at once, the situation comes crashing back up to speed in your brain and everything catches up with you. Your head doesn’t really know how to process it but your heart is already ahead and shrinking in your chest.

Are you fucking kidding me.

You don’t know what comes over you, but from what you can discern it seems to be a cocktail of incredulousness, anger, and heartbreak. Ruining your cover, you stomp over to the van and march right between them to the boot, yanking it open more aggressively than you need to. The two of them exclaim in surprise to see you, but are left reeling as you simply grab your toiletries bag and turn on your heel before stomping away, ignoring them completely.

You cannot believe the cruel twist that fate has just slapped you across the face with, like a massive silicone dildo giving you a black eye. Earlier today you learned that your two best friends — who you’ve recently realised you have feelings for— actually have feelings for someone. And alright, that shit hurted, but you could have seen yourself getting over it some time in the future.

But to find out that that person they like is each other and you’ve essentially been third wheeling for the entirety of your friendship? Call you a drama queen but you have such a mix of emotions in you that you almost feel nauseous. For the sake of simplicity, you decide to label that concoction anger and wash your hands of it.

Storming back through the camp to your tent, you ignore a bewildered Yoongi and Hoseok emerging from the treeline and instead try not to rip your toiletries bag with the harsh grip your fingers have on it. Throwing it into the tent that you’d left open after setting up, you follow it inside and then turn to rip the zip down. You’re tempted to simply leave it at that before you decide that’s not enough and you hold out your hand, charming it  so that it wont open for anyone but you. 

Satisfied with your last spiteful act of the night, you rush through your routine and head to bed, blood boiling all through the night until you wake up the next day.

x — x — x

“Did you kick Seokjin and Jimin out of your tent last night?”

Not lucid enough to have noticed him standing next to you by the van as you munch on your cereal with half-closed eyes, you jump in fright when Namjoon’s voice crosses your ears. 

And what if I did? You have the impulse to voice that thought, but the slight itch in your throat reminds you that, for the time being, you’re still silenced. At your own behest, sure, but not being able to quip sassy retorts back at people has been steadily getting at you these past four days. 

Instead, you simply shrug, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Trick question! We know you did because they came to our tents last night pleading for us to let them in because they couldn’t get into theirs.”

Well, you suppose that considering the three of you are bound and can’t be more than a few metres apart, it’s lucky that their tents were so close to your own. You frown at what he says though, squinting at Namjoon. Your point?

As though he’s perfectly in tune with your thoughts, he readily elaborates. “So what did they do to warrant that? I didn’t realise you were that upset with them.”

His words make you remember what you’ve been trying not to think about: last night. 

Your mother always told you that sleeping on it would fix almost everything, but you’d woken up in just as bad of a mood as you’d gone to bed with. It’s petty of you to be angry at them for liking each other, just because it’s not you, but there is also the fact that they’re your best friends and hadn’t told you a single thing. The betrayal of it all is one of the things that stings most, as dramatic as that is. Whatever, you’re allowed to be upset and you’re going to exercise that right. 

Namjoon doesn’t get an answer because you scull the remainder of your milk and cereal in one go (leaving him in something akin to a state of shock) and promptly walk off to get dressed. 

When everyone piles back into their respective cars today, it’s with a lighter air than the days previous. This is because, as Jungkook had announced excitedly before you all departed, you should be arriving at the witch’s home in a little over a few hours. Honestly, you’re ecstatic, because you don’t think you can handle being around Seokjin and Jimin for a while after this. 

In your bid to think about literally anything but the two males boring holes into the back of your head with their eyes, you instead allow yourself to daydream about how things are going to be in the next few hours. The witch is probably old and nice, wise and knowledgeable. She’ll get it, and she’ll probably support you if you call the boys names. Sisterhood of witches!

x — x 

Hours later and you’re standing outside of an industrial concrete home, not too dissimilar to the Cullens’ house from Twilight, except it’s overrun by plants and vines that curl and flower across the mass of grey in gorgeous patterns. The door has just slammed in front of you after Namjoon explained who you were and why you were here, and you’re now listening to the sound of many chains and bolts sliding on the other side of the wood.

The witch is nothing like you thought and you feel like your fate has fallen into some questionable hands. 

When the door opens once more, now unrestricted by chains, you’re met with the sight of the woman you’d driven four days to see and plead with. Needless to say, she isn’t what you expected at all— somehow despite the fact that your professor had literally explained what to expect before you left on this little roadtrip.

She stands, somewhat short but still graceful with long inky hair that curls down her back untamed, slipping over her shoulders at the front. Her skin is the kind of bronzed that tells of time spent in the sun and out in the wilds, and the loose clothing hanging from her form is light and breezy looking. Her eyes are dark and sleekly lined for a cat-like effect, lips stained dramatic red in contrast to the rest of her chill get-up.

She’s really out here living her best life, you think in wonder.

“Lim said you’d be coming… I’m Sunmi,” she voices, staring shrewdly at all eight of you one at a time until her gaze passes over you, Jimin, Seokjin and the runes binding your wrists. Her nails tap against the doorframe that she’s braced against as she hums in thought. “...Come in.”

When she turns and moves further into her home, the rest of you hover awkwardly before kicking into gear. Yoongi and Hoseok dismiss themselves, having spotted some ‘exciting’ plants back by the treeline, and so it is just you, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon and those other two you don’t want to think about that are left to follow the witch into the house. 

You follow her as she walks around the whole floor, gathering certain things as she goes. At her request, Namjoon fills her in on exactly what the issue is— he’s apparently a bit intimidated by her keen gaze and grumpy disposition, because he stutters a few times while recounting your situation to her. Taehyung and Jungkook, considering that they’re just along for the ride, spend the walk looking around in awe. Sunmi has a lot of artefacts on display in her home, some with runes you’ve never seen before in your life, not even in textbooks— kind of like the ones on your wrist.

“Alright, you three wait here,” Sunmi stops all of you in what seems to be a sitting room of sorts decorated with soft greens and white, pointing at Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook, and then the lounge. “If I’m going to fix this… curse...I will need only the three of them. It shouldn’t take too long.”

Her words are polite, skirting along the edge of being curt. Obediently, like puppies, they follow her instructions and take a seat with wide eyes. Satisfied, the witch turns to you and the idiots behind you. 

“Come, in here. Be quick about it.”

Hastily, you follow her finger and enter the room situated off to the side, hearing Seokjin and Jimin scramble behind you. What greets you is dark blue walls with stars smattered across them in metallic gold, the carpet plush, dark grey. There is a desk pushed against the wall, and a large table in the middle of the room that is framed by a few plushly upholstered chairs. You get the sudden urge to cough, throat itching slightly, but hold down the urge as best as you can and ignore it for now.

Sunmi closes the door behind her, taking a moment before moving to the table and placing the items in her arms down. She then leans forward, eyes pinning all three of you in place; you hear Seokjin let out something like an ‘eep’ from just behind you, and have to remind yourself that you’re angry at him so you can’t find it cute. 

“Look, I moved all the way out here so I didn’t have to deal with people,” she begins, straightening and crossing her arms. You avoid her gaze, instead focusing on the large window behind her, and then the vase of white and violet blooms in the middle of the table; you wonder if they’re responsible for the sweet, syrupy yet musky scent that accentuates the room. “Let me cut to the chase so that you leave and I can get back to what I was doing sooner.”

Somewhat taken aback by her words, you’re left blinking in surprise while she simply continues, pointing her finger at your wrists and then in the general direction of the boys.

“These runes are specific to a certain deity, one that isn’t often invoked because of how temperamental he is, but one that usually deals with things in the area of love. Specifically, unrequited.”

As she spoke, she started to move around the table, now approaching your little huddle. On instinct you take a few steps back, shifting slightly behind your two friends. You catch a glimpse of their faces as you move, and you’re surprised at how pale and stiff the two of them have suddenly become. Jimin’s silver hair begins to steam slightly, the tips of his ears flushing red.

“Now, usually what people return with after visiting him, is blessings. These, however,” she points to the runes, “Are what happens when one insults him.”

Jimin gulps, and Seokjin swallows before speaking hurriedly, “We didn’t mean to take the doll! We didn’t know it was his…”

Sunmi rolls her eyes, holding her hand out. “Give me the doll.”

You hadn’t even realised it was in Jimin’s hands until he jerked and hastily placed it in her hold. It’s as ugly as ever and you can’t help but glare at it. 

“This isn’t about the doll,” Sunmi says, cocking her hip and appearing the epitome of unimpressed. “The runes reveal that the insult lies within a request for a blessing. You did something wrong, and the doll became a conduit for his retaliation. You must have been desperate to go to him of all love deities, so how on earth did you manage to mess up the simple process of requesting a blessing?”

While you're standing with a blank face, struggling to keep up with all the information being unloaded on you, the two men beside you bow their heads in something like shame. When your brain catches up, you realise with chagrin that she’s saying they went to a temple or shrine of a love deity to ask for a blessing— and bitterly, you connect that it was likely for each other.

“Wh— but we did everything right!” Jimin is the one protesting now, eyes wide and fingers fiddling. “Isn’t this because of y/n’s potion?”

Bastard! You can’t believe he’d try to pin the blame on you! 

You’re beginning to simmer, throat tingling as you swallow angrily, and like he can sense it, Seokjin sends you a nervous look.

“What? This has nothing to do with a potion,” Sunmi scoffs, sending you a somewhat pitying look. You pretend it’s because she’s sympathising with you for being stuck with these two. “All the potion would have done is cover you in goo. This is—” she grabs your wrist suddenly, turning it to observe the runes on the underside before making a noise of realisation. “— this is because you went to a deity that specialises in unrequited love and asked for blessings in love that wasn’t unrequited.”

Sunmi releases your hand and you’re left reeling, quickly realising that they must have asked for blessings in love with each other— which, as you’d overheard last night and are now painfully aware of, is anything but unrequited. Oddly enough, the two boys next to you appear confused.

“No, that can’t be right—” Jimin starts, but Sunmi doesn’t let him finish.

“The runes don’t lie,” she says plainly, moving back to assemble some things before taking something that looks incriminatingly like a bong into her grasp; you don’t even remember her grabbing it on the way here. “They’re like a signature, almost. I know what I’m talking about, baby boy.”

Jimin goes bright red, hair steaming even more, although you can’t tell whether its from anger or embarrassment. Knowing him, probably both.

“Jimin,” Seokjin warns, shooting the younger a look when he opens his mouth to retort; apparently having Seokjin’s magic has made him that much more hotheaded. Seokjin shakes his head and Jimin clenches his jaw with the effort it takes him not to talk.

“Right, well, it seems like the three of you have some things to unpack— it bound you in particular for a reason. I’ll break the curse for you, but I need to drown this doll in some blessed water before I can get started.” Sunmi is already turning on her heel and walking towards the door before she even finishes. “Stay in here and don’t cause trouble.”

And then she leaves, and for some reason the resounding thud of the door swinging closed behind her is like a metaphor sealing your fate.

For the first few seconds after her departure, the room is silent. The two men beside you are frozen, but it doesn’t take long for them to pick up on the waves of anger beginning to emanate from you. They turn, sharing a similar expression of nervousness and slight fear. They look like they’d like more than anything to disappear right now, but of course that isn’t an option, especially when the curse currently afflicting you all means that whatever comes to their brain is immediately blurted into the air.

“Look, y/n, uh… we can explain.” Jimin takes a step forward, holding his hands out as though to placate you. For some reason even just that is quick to irritate you further, and you glare at him. How is he going to explain, you wonder? The witch has pretty much already spelled out everything you need to know about exactly why you’re in this situation. 

They went to the shrine of some obscure love deity to receive blessings on their ‘unrequited’ love — which happened to be requited because the person they were asking for blessings for was each other — and then proceeded to insult the deity and take a doll from the shrine, which the deity then used as a conduit to curse the three of you. You get all that, loud and clear. What you really want to know is why the hell you got roped into this punishment and forced to experience all this shame and humiliation.

“Look, about the shrine— we didn’t only go for personal reasons! We knew there was a doll there that the professor would be interested in,” Seokjin hurried to elaborate, before throwing a dirty look to the side and proceeding to incriminate his friend. “Actually, the only reason we even went at all was because Jimin suggested it.”

You don’t know why they’re so eager to shift the blame; you’re happy to include both of them on your shit list. 

Jimin seems to grow so incensed at Seokjin’s comment that his mouth grows that much looser and he’s speaking before the thought can even materialise in his brain. “What the fuck, dude— we both agreed to go because we both read that page of her diary that we found the cat playing with! Stop trying to pin this on me, it was a group effort you jerk!”

For a second your brain is filled with white noise as what he said sinks in.

Then you’re pissed.

So pissed, in fact, that you don’t even feel the familiar tingle in your throat when it occurs and you’re exploding before you even realise that the silencing spell has worn off.

“Are you kidding me— YOU READ MY DIARY?!” both boys flinch, eyes shooting wide as they take a physical step back. You’re so angry you’re almost shaking. This is ridiculous! Faintly, you realise that you should shut up but now that you’ve started you can’t make yourself stop.

“This is unbelievable! Not only did your stupidity and your stupid heart-ons for each other end up dragging me into being cursed, but then you went and made this the worst four days of my life!” You jab your finger at them, voice so loud it’s ringing in your own ears. “I can’t believe I like you two! I’m so fucking angry at you— when we get home I’m performing a cutting spell so I don’t have to love you anymore, so fuck BOTH of you and go kiss behind a tree or something!”

You’re slightly out of breath by the time you finish, still fuming but feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest. About a second later you realise that the spell has worn off and you just tore their heads off, but your brain is a little preoccupied with everything so you decide to deal with the mental repercussions of it later. 

Both boys are silent, looking at you with wide eyes. You’re just beginning to wonder why when Jimin starts to speak, eyes shifting. “y/n did you just… did you just say—”

At his words, you reflect on exactly just came out of your mouth and instantly horror washes over you, your heart dropping through your chest. 

Yeah, you like reading about accidentally confessing in fiction but now you’re suddenly feeling a lot of regret and you’re not so sure you’re a fan of it anymore.

You’re saved from having to muster a response in the current black hole that has become your brain by the door opening, Sunmi returning with three squishy, heavy-looking items in her hand that you quickly recognise as water balloons. The realisation comes a little too late, though, because you don’t even have time to move before she’s pegging them at all three of you and next thing you know, you’re standing there soaked, sputtering and shocked.

“What the hell—?!” Seokjin spits out the water that got in his mouth, gagging. 

“Specially blessed water, procured by yours truly,” Sunmi says simply, moving into the room just to place the doll back on the table, along with a bowl. She reaches into it and throws something like ground stardust on you, sending you all into a coughing fit once more. “Alright, the curse is dissolved. Your speech issues should be solved, but the runes that bind you… they might take a little longer, a day or so, to wear off.”

She smacks her hands together, dusting them off as she delivers the three of you with a sly look. “I’d tell you good luck, but while I was soaking the doll I realised why the three of you in particular were bound. It’s the same as I said before— your feelings aren’t unrequited, for either of the people that you requested blessings for.”

“Either of the people?” you echo, regrettably inclined to talk now that you’re able to again. Sunmi sends you an amused if somewhat exasperated look.

“I’m sure they’ll tell you,” she says cryptically, before angling her body to the others. “Now my work is done, get out. I miss my solitude. Also, I’m keeping the doll as my fee. It’s ugly as hell and is gonna look fantastic on the wall by the dining table.”

Still processing what she said before all of that, your group is hassled out of the house in a blur and before you know it, all six of you are standing in front of her door and witnessing it slam in your faces for the second time today.  

Namjoon is the first to recover and is ridiculously cheerful as he speaks; you’re confused as to why until he sends you a knowing look and you realise that he, along with the other two youngest, probably heard your loud, shameful confession to both boys. He’d never said anything about knowing of your feelings, but you knew he knew. You could feel it in your bones. Also, his expressions aren’t as impassive as he’d like to think they are.

“Right, well! Back to the car everyone! Someone go get Hope and Yoongi. The sooner we head back, the sooner I can forget the weird things I saw in that living room!” He then grabs Taehyung and Jungkook around the shoulders, turning with them and steering them away in the direction of the car. “The sooner I can also get those fish bread things at the market near my house. Gods, I miss them.”

“You have an addiction, hyung.” You hear Jungkook say, his voice growing fainter the further away he grows. You stop attempting to listen after that, turning back to the other two males who you’re surprised to see haven’t budged and are looking straight at you.

“We went to the shrine for you,” Seokjin says suddenly, before you can ask them what they want. You blink, shock smacking you in the face. “We read a page of your diary— which we didn’t realise was a page of your diary until it was too late — and saw that you liked someone, but it didn’t say who.”

“We both wanted it to be us,” Jimin intercedes, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes. His cheeks, along with Seokjin’s, are flushing pink. “Because as you no doubt heard last night, although we like each other… we liked you first. So I think you were drawn into this mess because we both like you… and each other.”

“And, um, like the witch said,” Seokjin gulps, now somewhat tentative. “Our feelings aren’t unrequited… which means that you like us too…?”

“Well, yeah,” Jimin mutters, smacking the other male on the arm. “That’s literally what she said while yelling at us, idiot.”

What they’re saying… is this a love triangle with all sides filled in? It’s a lot to process at once, and they give you a second as they watch the gears turn in your head.

“You…” you pause, struggling to put words together. Finally, you give up trying to be eloquent and slap a hand to your face, closing your eyes. “You both are so stupid— so stupid. I can’t handle this right now.”

When you open your eyes, you’re met with looks of fear. You squash that emotion by jabbing your finger at them, runes still faintly on your wrist. “When we get home, I’m gonna beat you. Then, I’m gonna give you a kiss, and then I’m gonna beat you again, and then we’re going to talk about this. Got it?”

They’re fighting grins at your words, Jimin snorting as they both nod hastily. 

“It’s a date,” Seokjin says cheekily, cackling when you raise your hand at him.

“Can we have a hug, y/n?” Jimin hazards a plea, stepping forward with puppy eyes directed full force at you. “It’s rough when you’re angry at us.”

“You deserved it for all the shit you two said,” you say, rolling your eyes but opening your arms nonetheless. They exclaim in happiness and dive forward, almost making the three of you fall over in their zealousness. You feel your heart ease as you hold them both in your arms and they hold you. 

Maybe this trip and whole ‘getting cursed by a cranky love deity’ thing isn’t a complete disaster after all. 

Then again… you still have the trip back.

a/n: to the commissioner, I hope u like it!!! thank u for reading and if u enjoyed it please lmk with a like and/or rb!! thank u !! love u !!!

[amlovelies]

Lies

pairing: Mason/f!oc (Serena Willis)

rating: M some light smut and cursing. also this is angsty 

words: 1.5k

This is part of “Just Another Liability” my Wayhaven AU. This scene would take place between Liability and Somewhere between hope and pride 

              I’m surprised when I wake up in Mason’s bed. I’ve drifted off there before, and he’s always woken me so I could stumble on unsteady legs back to my own bedroom. It was an unspoken thing. We didn’t spend the night together. It would be crossing a line.

               There was that morning when I caught him leaving at 7am, but part of me wonders if I just imagined the sound of my door closing. Imagined or maybe I only wished for it.

               A new routine had been established in the wake of the kidnapping. Under Adam’s orders I’m confined to the warehouse unless I can get someone to accompany me. I could usually depend on Farah, but with myself off the patrol rotation, and Nate spending most of his time with Dinah, she’s been too busy.

               I hadn’t seen much of Mason either, which I was grateful for. I’m not sure how to act around him anymore. I wish I had just sucked it up and stayed in my room that night. I can’t help but feel like something shifted between us then. That’s not entirely true, I know something changed. What terrifies me is if it was just for me.

               I hate this feeling, this weakness. I find myself gathering evidence. As if this was a case to solve: the mysterious disappear of all of Serena’s sense. Maybe if I wasn’t stuck in the Warehouse all day, I could distract myself. I try going to work with Dinah, but that provides little relief.

               She still feels guilty about what happened. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her that I don’t blame her, I can still see the weight of it on her. Sometimes bad things happen. It would just be great if she could stop looking at me like I’m some delicate broken thing. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve always been fine before.

               I spend time in the training room. Punching things is nice. If I could have afforded a fancy gym back home maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so stressed working retail. Decembers would have been a lot more bearable.

               After weeks of long patrols and little down time, Adam had finally caved to Rebecca’s suggestion of having Unit Alpha pick up some of the slack. With his first evening free in weeks, it had taken Mason disgustingly little effort to get me into his bed.

               I can hear his quiet breathing next to me; he must have fallen asleep. If I let myself lie there for a few minutes just enjoying the warmth of a shared bed no one needs to know.

               As I start to slip out from under the covers, an arm snacks out and pulls me back against his chest. He doesn’t say anything, just pulling me flush against his warm body. He mumbles something under his breath which I don’t understand and presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. I figure he must want to go again. After all it has been a few weeks since we were last able to find time. I wait for his hands to begin to roam, for a hand to cup my breast, to caress over my waist, to delve between my legs, but it never happens. His arm stays wrapped around my waist holding me in place loosely.

               This is new and dangerous, but god it feels good to be held. I convince myself it’s just a dream, and I let myself fall back asleep.  

               The next morning, I’m woken up to a testing hesitant caress down my arm. My body moves almost on its own accord pushing back against Mason’s body. He chuckles as his caress as his caress gains more purpose and direction. A hand grips my chin and tilts my head back so his lips can find mine. I sigh into the kiss as it deepens and he rocks his body against mine. When the kiss breaks and I open my eyes, there’s something in his gaze that I can’t stand. I have to shut my eyes, but I can still feel it. His attention moves leaving hot wet kisses down the column of my neck and chuckling at the goosebumps that erupt in his wake.

               We take our time with each other, bodies still warm and languid with sleep. There’s no frantic pulse of lust pushing us forward, but rather a slow almost lazy exploration. Somehow his voice is even gruffer, but the way my name sounds on his lips might be my favorite sound.

               After, as we lay side by side in the afterglow, legs still tangled together his hands making small circles and patterns against my skin, I can’t take my eyes off him. He is so beautiful. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man as captivating as Mason. I think I could spend the rest of my life studying his face. I’ve been denying it to myself, but in this moment, I know I can’t any longer.

               I want this. I want lazy mornings in each other’s arms. I want him more than I have ever wanted anyone before. Oh, I’ve thought myself in love before. I recognize this swelling in my chest. This feeling like your heart wants to escape, and I guess it does, because it doesn’t belong to you anymore. It belongs to them. And could I have chosen someone worse?

               Mason’s lived for a hundred years and never wanted a relationship or anything serious in all that time. In a hundred years with hundreds of lovers, he has never felt more. Am I really so arrogant to believe that would change with me? I’m not. As much as I’ve tried to gather evidence to try and convince myself that maybe just maybe he feels more for me, deep down I know that I’m wrong. There’s nothing so special about me that would make him a different person.  

               “What’s wrong?” he asks as if sensing my changing in mood. He probably did, stupid vampire super senses.

               “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I say with a smile as I push myself up to a sitting position. I avoid looking at him.

               Maybe a dumber Serena would confess, open her dumb mouth and ask for more, for clarity. Maybe she would call him out on the lingering glances and the tender way he touches her. Maybe she could convince him with her evidence and her sincerity, but I’m not her.

               “I know you’re lying.”

               “I lie all the time that’s nothing new. Why do you care?” I ask, my tone defensive, as I slide out of the bed and grab my clothing off the floor.

               “I don’t.” He says with a scoff.  

               “I know.” I respond and I can’t keep the resignation out of my voice. I pull my clothing on quickly. He’s still in the bed, but I can feel his eyes on my back. I can’t bring myself to look at him.

               This isn’t going to end well for me. As much as I may try to just pretend nothing has changed, that I’ve wrestled my feelings under control that’s just another one of my lies. It hurts to hear him say he doesn’t care, to confirm it. I can’t think of any version of this where I won’t end up hurt, won’t end up looking foolish.

               Before I can stop myself, I say, “we can’t do this anymore.”

               “Do what?”

               “This. Whatever you want to call this. Hookup, fool around, fuck.” The last word seems to echo in the quiet dimness of his bedroom.

               I stare at the door waiting for his response. I want to take it back, to not lose at least this little piece I do have, but it’s too late for that.                

               “Fine by me, Sweetheart” he says with a growl.

               If some part of my mind hoped he might say that what’s between us is more than, that he doesn’t want this to end, that he wants to be with me, well, that would be really fucking dumb.  I’m not that stupid, this was always just going to be something physical for him.

                I nod swallowing down the bitter disappointment, “I’m glad we agree. I’ll see you around Mason.”  

               I don’t fall apart until I get back to my own room. The tears are hot and bitter as they fall down my face. I know that this pain is only a fraction of what it would have been if I’d let it continue. It’s better this way, to leave before he can get bored of me, before I lose even more of my heart to him. I tell myself this over and over again as if my words can drown out the hollow ache of my chest and the fear that there is nothing left to lose. I left it all with him.  

tagging: @lord-king-saint @tracing-freckled-constellations @lilyoffandoms, @agentnatesewell, and @mrs-raleighcarrera (if you’d liked to be tagged/not tagged for the AU stuff please let me know)

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 10/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: Everything from the previous chapter applies as far as the Walsh business is concerned. Other than that, a very tame chapter. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: So, this is the last main chapter. There is an epilogue which I will post on Sunday, and then this grand adventure will be wrapped up! Thanks for being with me on this ride and for any comments, reblogs, and likes. I’m thankful beyond words. <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 10: Snowshine

Walsh still looks exactly the same as the last time she was here. Emma tries her best to keep her stomach calm when all she wants to do is throw up on his face, projecting an outward cool that she doesn’t feel as he enters the room and looks up at her. 

“What the - Emma? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Taking back what’s rightfully mine,” Emma says, gesturing to the box of pictures sitting on the bed beside her.

“Oh no, sweetheart. I would hardly call all of those yours.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, asshole.”

Through all of this, James has been watching a progress bar load on the computer screen. With a noise of victory, he looks back to her.

“There you go, Emma. All done.”

“You brought David with you? Mr. Wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly?”

“Oh, buddy, believe me. You’re gonna wish I was David by the end of this. Good job hosting a whole website with a bunch of non-consensual photos on it. But shame on you for making it so easy to break into.”

“You have another brother?”

“Didn’t I ever tell you that David was an identical twin?”

At the little jingle that plays from the desk, he tries to push James out of the way. “What did you do to my computer?”

“Gave it a little tune up,” James tells him, crossing his arms with pride as a little unicorn marches into the center of the screen. 

All three of them watch with rapt attention as the unicorn stands and waves, before squatting. 

“Oh my god,” Emma says, bursting out in laughter as the unicorn defecates in the shape of an artfully written “fuck you” in rainbow colors. 

After a couple seconds, the whole thing emits a screeching noise and shuts off with a loud pop. 

“All your buddies that subscribed to your email list got something pretty similar. I mean, I don’t know if they’ll all open it but with the heading ‘Check out the brand new section!’ I’m willing to bet a lot of dudes are about to lose their computers.”

Walsh finally makes it around James, desperately trying to turn on his computer but nothing happens when he hits the button. “All of my business files were on there.”

“You kept all your shit on your personal computer? Wow. You’re even dumber than I thought.” James turns towards Emma on the tail of that thought. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Emma responds, picking up the box of photographs and handing it over to James. They manage to make it out of the bedroom before Walsh must come to his senses, and he’s after them immediately. 

His hand closes around Emma’s arm, and she spins around. On instinct, Emma swings as she breaks the hold. And while James misses taking a snapshot of that hit, he doesn’t miss the one where Emma knees him in the nuts hard enough to bring him to his knees. 

“I have the perfect new image for the welcome screen on his trash web page,” James says as Emma backs away. He holds the phone out for her to see and she just barely stops herself from cracking up. “Here, take this. I’ll be right behind you.” He hands over the box, gently ushering her towards the door. 

She doesn’t go far, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear what James has to say to Walsh. 

“Here’s the deal, you Wizard of Oz-looking monkey piece of shit. All of the accounts for that website are completely wiped out. All that money you made off of people like my sister? That money is so far offshore that you’ll never be able to trace it ever again. Got it?”

“I’ll call the cops,” Walsh says weakly.

“You won’t. You have no evidence. And if you try to do that, or ever try to do this again, I will screw up your whole life. We’re in a digital age now, Walsh Whitney Covington. I have everything of yours now. Personal records, social media, bank accounts, the password to your pretentious little LinkedIn page that lists you as a connoisseur of wood, which… come on, man.”

“That’s all illegal,” he whines back, and Emma is mostly just enjoying the snivelling tone in his voice. 

“Yeah? And? I’m sure Emma signed a consent form for those pictures you had posted of her, right? You had her sign away her financial freedoms for the profits on it, too? Don’t ever fuck with our family ever again or you’ll regret it.”

After a couple more minutes of silence, James exits the apartment and gives her a bright smile. 

“Now, that was a fun afternoon with my brother. See? We should bond like this more often,” Emma says as they make their way out of the building and back down to where he parked his car. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. Jack would kill me if she found out this is how I spent my day.”

“You’re still with Jack?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I did marry her, after all. She wanted to wait until she made partner to have a baby and so I switched gears and became a stay-at-home dad after she went back from maternity leave. It helps to have a super lawyer as your wife.”

“None of the words that just came out of your mouth are what I was expecting when I called you about all this.”

“Well, it’s not like I send out Christmas cards with updates on the family,” James says, a little resignation in his voice. 

“Did you really take all the profits from the website?”

“And refunded the money you spent on that settee you bought there back before you started dating.”

Just as he says it, Emma’s phone dings with a notification. There’s a message from her bank saying there’s been a deposit into her account. Looking at the numbers, it’s way more than what she paid for the moderately priced item, but James shrugs. 

“Maybe I got the numbers backwards in my head. Added an extra digit. Whatever. So you mentioned earlier that you have a boyfriend? You haven’t changed your status on Facebook.”

“You follow my social media?”

“Just because I don’t let any of you know about what’s going on in my life doesn’t mean I don’t check up on you.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be at a Christmas party for his company down in New York but someone insisted we do this today.”

He rolls his eyes as he opens his door and climbs into the driver’s seat. No sooner is she seat-belting in when another notification chimes on her phone. 

“Did you seriously just buy me a plane ticket to New York City?”

“I’ll hand all of that over to David,” James says, indicating the box she placed in the backseat. “Besides, he and I are severely overdue for a brotherly chat.” Without another word, he starts a route for the airport. 

“When was the last time you had one of those? When you were fifteen?”

“Something like that. Hey, text him and let him know what’s going on. I should be back there in about an hour but I don’t want him to worry.”

She shakes her head, doing as he asked and sending a message to David. 

As they pull up outside the airport, Emma turns to James. “So, what do I still owe you?”

“Nothing. I got the cash he had stashed in his desk, all the money from his subscription side of the website, and free childcare for the evening after Jack gets home from the office today.”

“Did you tell David that yet?”

“No, but I will. And you know he will - he’s David. Go on,” he tells her when they arrive a short time later. “Enjoy the party.”

“Okay then. And hey, thanks for all your help. I couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Emma?” 

Her door is open and she’s just about to climb out when he says her name. 

“It was nice seeing you,” he admits. 

She leans in quickly and hugs him, noting how familiar yet utterly foreign it feels. “Come visit us sometime,” she tells him as she pulls away. She stands there until his car pulls away and he’s out of view before she walks through the doors. 

Somehow, James managed to get her the perfect flight so she had enough time to get through security, although she looks suspicious as hell going in with nothing but her purse, if you ask her. It’s still considered early when she lands in the city, but with nothing else with her, she has to get party-ready with nothing but the money in her bank account. Thanks to James, there’s a little bit extra to play with in there.

Emma feels like she should be in some cheesy movie montage as she struggles to find everything she’ll need to get ready. Hair and makeup come first, and she’s thankful the salon isn’t far from a decent looking clothing shop or else her charges in cab fares alone would’ve gotten out of hand. 

The dress she finds is perfect - a sleek, black number that doesn’t fit too tight but that doesn’t hide her shape. It’s similar enough to the dress she was planning on wearing to this, the one she borrowed from Ruby as a first-date possibility but put aside in favor of the soft pink she wore instead. She admires the whole look in the mirror as the shop attendant helps her clip tags after Emma pays. She buys two pairs of shoes - a cute pair of cutout ankle boots and a pair of flats - in anticipation of the point in the party where she’ll want to feel her toes again. 

It’s only once she’s fully satisfied with the total picture that she heads out, making sure everything she wore down here is tucked securely into the weekender bag the attendant helped her pick out. 

This time, she opens the rideshare app for a little more comfort, and then it’s off to the Manhattan Penthouse to finally get to where she wants to be.

-x-

Tucking away the knowledge that Robin just gave him, Killian settles into his seat with only a lone glance at the empty chair beside him. He has Henry on his other side, and the rest of the Mills-Hood family in the remaining seats. They’ve not even begun when he receives a sharp, bony elbow to the side. 

“Hey,” Henry whispers as he leans close. “Isn’t that Emma?”

He turns his head, glancing in the direction Henry is pointing, and his breath catches. Sure enough, Emma is standing there in a black dress that surely should be illegal to look so good in. Her hair and makeup are all done, and she’s scanning the room. It takes another elbow to his ribs for Killian to finally stand up, waving over his girlfriend and attempting to wipe the surprise off his face while he does.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re just in time, actually. I’m so… don’t get me wrong, Swan, but I never expected you’d be able to make it.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek and taking a moment to soak up her closeness.

“Yeah, well, sometimes when you make a deal with the devil to take down satan, you get what you want faster than you expected,” she says, and while he doesn’t fully understand, he knows he’ll get the full story later. 

He pulls out her chair for her, pushing it in as she sits. “I do believe we all know one another,” he says to the table at large. “I’d told them to cancel your meal, so excuse me while I get that turned around.”

“Emma! I’m so glad you’re here!” Henry who’d been sitting on his right, beams from ear to ear as he slides over to talk to her. 

“Hi Henry. Everyone. Glad I could make it.”

Hearing her voice and the animated conversation that sparks up between her and Henry immediately calms his nerves for the evening, and he hastens to find one of the caterers so he can return to the table. 

By the time their dinner is served, he’s noticed no less than four times Henry has pulled out his iPod to jot down something in his notes. He smiles as he watches it happen, watches the gears turn in the lad’s head and the magic take root. He manages to keep it in his pocket for the entirety of the meal, but he’s pretty sure that was due to a questioning look from Regina right as the salads were placed in front of them.

With the rest of the table occupied with their desserts, Killian takes a moment to lean over, keeping his voice low as he whispers in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she says, a satisfied little smile on her face. There’s been a peace evident on her face since the moment she walked in, and he’s intrigued but enjoying it. She was never too tightly wound to begin with, apart from the times she got stuck in her own head. This, he assumes, is due to the business with her ex being all wrapped up. 

After the dishes have been cleared, Killian rests in his seat for a bit. There’s still a lot more networking he’ll have to do, but for now he takes the time to relax as he and Robin discuss strategy for announcements. He’s in the middle of helping figure out the order when Emma’s hand creeps onto his thigh. His words falter for a moment, and he can see Emma’s smile get just a little wider. 

When her hand travels a little higher, he reaches down, knowing full well that his ears and cheeks are both bright with flush, and takes a moment when Robin is asking Henry a question to fully turn to her.

“Have pity on me,” he whispers, pulling her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it, and she laughs quietly, turning her palm to link her fingers with his. 

“Just this one time,” she concedes, settling in with their hands clasped. 

-x-

Walking into the venue, Emma is momentarily overwhelmed. She forgot that the Storybrooke office isn’t the whole team, and that a lot of the authors would be there, so there’s just a sea of people as far as she can see across the space. But then Killian stands up, her eyes finding his as he waves her over. 

And it’s halfway between where she is and where he’s waiting that it hits her full in the gut: She is in love with Killian. She is so in love with that man that she can hardly stand it. He has never once looked at her differently or placed unrealistic expectations on her - he never set out to hurt her. 

There, with the lights of the chandeliers glittering overhead, and the backdrop of the city getting dusted in snow, Emma realizes that she is looking at the man she wants to spend all of her time with if she can. Her heart squeezes, even as she smiles and accepts the kiss he places on her cheek as they settle in.

It’s the first time she’s ever been to a party like this, and she has to think it’s going pretty well. While Killian is occupied with his duties, Emma offers to watch Roland so Regina can go with Robin as he makes rounds to greet everyone. Emma follows him as he drags her from one end of the penthouse to the other, eager to show her anything and everything he can. 

By the end of the night, her feet hurt and she’s all too happy to get her belongings from the coat check room so she can slip on the flats she bought. She’s leaning against the wall, innocently trying to pry her feet out of the booties when Killian comes up behind her, his hand warm through the material of her dress and his voice hot in her ear. 

“Are you trying to kill me tonight?”

“I’m just trying to change my shoes. It’s not my fault your eyes automatically go to my ass when you approach me.”

He looks affronted when she turns to look at him, a smile hiding behind the expression.

“Besides,” she says, “I just can’t wait for you to get me out of this dress.”

“I’m ordering us a car right now.”

It’s amazing; she knows he prefers the quiet and solitude of their little town, but he performs so well in the city - like he was built to live here - and she loves that he chooses not to. They’re both on their best behavior in the car, but Killian purposely sat on her left so his hand can rest on her knee. Rather than spiking that part in her that’s always game for another round of sex, though, it reignites her thoughts from when she entered the party and she stares at him in the dark as the city lights pass them by.

When he notices, he turns to her with a peaceful look on his face, and they smile at each other. “What?” he asks, his fingers tightening once.

“Nothing,” she replies, taking the moment to rest her head on his shoulder for the rest of the journey. “Tonight was great.”

Back at the hotel, they at least manage to settle a bit before Killian follows through with her request, with both of them sighing as the dress slips from her shoulders and drops lightly to the floor. They take their time, slow and languid, savoring each moment with each other.

“I know I’ve said this plenty of times, but I am so happy you were able to make it,” Killian tells her as their skin is still cooling. She needs to go wash the makeup from her face but she’s not quite sure her legs will function in order to do so.

“Me too.” She stares at him, her eyes roaming his face and sinking into the wonder that has been the last three months of her life, thanks to this man.

“What is it?” he asks, his expression serious as he tries to figure out what she’s thinking.

“I… want to thank you for everything. You went into this without knowing and you still haven’t pushed me to talk about what happened or anything and so I just… wanted to say thanks.”

His smile falters, still there but just a touch disappointed that the words weren’t the ones he was expecting after she set it up to be something else, and she knows how it feels. Her thumb strokes along his cheek, pushing at his smile briefly as she leans in to kiss him. 

Maybe next time, she thinks as she moves to the bathroom to clean up before climbing back into bed. Outside, the city keeps moving on as their world slows for sleep. 

-x- December 21: Saturday

As usual, Killian is the one that wakes up first. He sets about ordering breakfast and jumps in the shower in the interim. Emma is awake and sitting up in bed when he comes back out, and he leans over the bed to kiss her good morning. 

“David texted me that he’s on his way home. He has everything we took from Walsh and he’s going to drop it off at my place.”

“That’s certainly good news. Even better news is I have coffee and breakfast being delivered soon.”

She chuckles at that. “Perfect. I wish I had more clothes with me, but I suppose yesterday’s will be fine.”

“My luggage is yours, love. I always pack extra just in case, so help yourself.”

Which seemed like a good idea, until Emma walks out of the bathroom after her own shower in one of his button up shirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her supple form filling out the garment better than he ever could. 

They eat breakfast in bed, the curtains flung open wide to let in the weak, winter sunshine. As they graze their food, Emma books her ticket for their return to Storybrooke, crowing in victory when she scores a seat on Killian’s flight.

“I’ll text David and see if he can pick us up,” Emma tells him when they’re getting ready for their outside adventure, pulling her hat securely over her ears and wrapping her scarf around her neck.

They brave the cold to hit some of the popular winter activities in the city, taking in the Christmas markets and strolling Fifth Avenue. In the early evening, they meet up with Robin, Regina, and the two boys again to enjoy dinner together. With the pressure from the night before long gone, they talk instead of the upcoming holidays. 

It’s clear that Henry is willing to keep the magic alive for Roland, asking the younger boy what he’s planning on asking for Christmas when they go to see Santa after the meal is over. When Killian catches Henry’s eye a short bit later, the lad smiles and gives him a thumbs up. 

After dinner, they set out on their own again to see the Rockefeller tree in person. They stand there, watching the lights twinkle and the skaters on the rink until neither of them can feel their toes and their noses are bright red. 

Sinking into their hotel bed that night, Killian makes sure to set his alarm, but Emma grabs for it before he can set it down.

“Just wanted to double check. Wouldn’t want to miss your alarm or anything,” she says, that smile hidden in the corner of her mouth. 

“Cheeky woman,” he says quietly, making sure to kiss her hard and lovely before they each burrow under the covers. 

There’s another message from David waiting for Emma when they wake up letting her know they’ll be there to pick them up. Thankfully, with no luggage, their disembarking process is much faster and they’re able to get out of the departure door right as David and Snow pull up.

While they go their separate ways when they get back to town, he and Emma have a standing appointment for later in the afternoon to take everything that was acquired from Walsh’s apartment to send it off properly, as she did with her uniform. 

He sets to work on a mission, unpacking his bag and stripping off his dirty clothes to throw everything in his hamper. There’s still time before he meets with Emma, but since he’s been out of town since Friday, he’s behind on his weekend duties and he knows he’ll feel better if he takes the time to do it now rather than waiting. He throws his clothes in the wash, opting for warmer clothes for their task ahead. Instead of sitting around and waiting for the machine to be done, he takes the time instead to pack a picnic of sorts for the task ahead of them. Those items and a blanket all go into a tote bag he got from the last publishing conference he attended. 

Shortly after his laundry is folded and put away, Emma breezes through the door with a large box in her arms. 

“Ready?”

“Aye, just let me grab my keys.”

He locks the door behind them on their way out, and then they make their way to the beach closest to his flat. There’s a fire pit that was built ages ago, large stones surrounding it and a fresh pile of logs that Killian would place money on betting that David set it up for them. 

As he sets to work lighting the fire, he hands Emma the tote to start unpacking their items. She hums happily as she finds the soup, and again when she opens the second thermos that has the hot chocolate. He’s just finishing with his task when he turns to see her pouring the drink into each mug he brought, and raises an eyebrow as she tips a generous amount of whiskey into each one. 

She shrugs when she sees his look. “Believe me, I’m going to need it,” she says after a sip to taste-test. 

They stay on the beach much longer than most people would in December, with fresh snow occasionally falling around them. But they make sure each individual picture makes it into the fire. As delicately as they can, they remove them from the box, and he hands a stack face-down to Emma for her to fold each picture so he can feed it into the fire. 

She sets the thumb drive on the rocks around the pit, making sure to give it a solid stomp before throwing that in as an afterthought. 

“I’m sure it’s terrible for the environment but I need that thing wiped from existence.”

When each item has met its demise, including the box it was all packed away in, Emma puts out the fire using every precaution he’s sure David taught her.

Back in the comforting warmth of his place, Killian pulls out every blanket he owns and waits for Emma to come out of his bedroom from getting changed into pajamas. He piles them on top of her, going to change his own clothes before joining her on the couch. He holds her while she processes the whole thing - some anger and tears, some relief, until she falls asleep on Killian’s shoulder and he has to shift around until they can both stretch out. 

He doesn’t fall asleep until long after she does, whispering a quiet “I love you” against her hair before he finally falls asleep, as well. 

-x- December 23: Monday

They’re still on the couch when Emma wakes up, if only just barely. She’s facing Killian, her back pressed against the couch, with Killian’s arm looped over her waist. She’s just opening her eyes when she hears his gasp and then he’s teetering off the edge. Now wide awake, she peers down to see Killian wincing on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy, love,” he grumbles, rubbing his head where it smacked on the floor. She’s stifling laughter when he leans up and kisses her softly. “Good morning to you, my sweet couch hog.”

“We could’ve moved at any time. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because I love you and wanted you to rest more than I cared about my own comfort,” he responds, only realizing as he finishes speaking that he may have said too much. His eyes, wider and brighter blue than she’s ever seen them, meet her steady gaze.

“I love you, too. But that’s a little dramatic of a reason for why you’re now on the floor.”

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. Or time. This time just happens to be on my remarkably uncomfortable area rug.” She can’t help the laugh that slips out this time and she runs her hands through his hair. Hangover be damned, she loves this man so much.

“Thanks again for last night. I was a bit of a mess,” she says, even though it feels like a vast understatement to what she actually was the day before. He waves his hand to dismiss her words.

“Sometimes, we just need to throw a mini-rager and burn a bunch of illegally obtained pornographic materials. You sure we’ll never need any of that as evidence in case there’s some kind of criminal investigation?”

“James was pretty clear with Walsh about what would happen to him if he tried to pursue legal action. Not only that, but every picture on the website has been removed and the only thing that pops up when the site is unlocked now is a picture of Walsh clutching his junk with an expression of pain on his face.” 

“I wish I could’ve been there to see you make that hit,” Killian admits, pushing up off the cushion to stand. “Come, love, let’s sail away to the kitchen where I can recite dirty poetry to you and make you breakfast.”

She laughs as she takes his hand, because while he doesn’t recite dirty poetry, he does make her breakfast and convince her to play hooky with him for the day. And when he takes her to bed a short time later, he infuses her skin with the words of his love over and over again. 

It’s the first time in years he doesn’t stick to any kind of routine at all, and they’re both perfectly okay with that. 

-x-

Epilogue

[kpopchangedme]

Plot Twist [M] | Park Jinyoung

Being locked up until tomorrow morning with your biggest rival in the Archery team might not be all bad after all...

Protagonists: Park Jinyoung & You

Word Count: 5.5k

Genre: NSFW - Enemies to Lovers - Romance - Smut *explicit* - [Drabble 2k]

Prompt: “Dramas did not prepare me for this”

Requested by: @prettywordsyouleft, I hope you like this, even though, I’m sooooo sorry... I’ve made it smutty because I got carried away!!

GOT7 | M.list

There are a lot of things that you love about archery and only one that you vehemently hate. Perhaps that’s why you’ve been excelling at it ever since you first picked up a bow. As soon as you showed promising skills, your parents ensured you’d turned out to be one of the greatest. You’ve trained with the most successful archers, former Olympians... Won all the most important awards and competitions... Entered the most prestigious sports-study program on a full scholarship...

And look where all that got you… Stuck with the only thing you absolutely hate about it.

Fighting your suffocating feeling of helplessness, you kick the closest object on the floor. Whatever it is, it crosses the room in a blink, hitting a shelf full of supplies that then wobbles dangerously.

“I’d appreciate not being buried alive by dirty Football gear,” his voice cuts through the darkness and you turn to glare at him, “thank you very much.”

“Shut up Park,” your harsh reply is instantaneous, “or else...” 

Yes, literally stuck with him; Park Jinyoung, an archer almost as good as you, your nemesis, your relentless competition.

Locked in a dark supply closet, connecting to the Archery team’s interior training ground. You’re dumb enough to have let the door close behind you when you knew it automatically locked from the inside. Jinyoung is even dumber for having followed minutes after; probably curious as to where you disappeared. You didn’t manage to catch the door in time before it shut, condemning you both to each other’s company. Although you two usually train late at night in the gymnasium, you always ignore and avoid the other. It’s a safety technique you’ve developed, keeps you from ending up in jail for his murder, especially since you’re armed most of the time. Unfortunately, since you train alone, there’s no way of knowing when people will notice you’re missing, even less find you in here.

“Or you’ll make me?” Jinyoung snorts in distaste, “You always had a bias for the dramatic. What more can you do? Being here with your is already Hell.”

“Ha. Ha.” You furiously wipe the sweat from your forehead. He’s right, with this bad of a company and ventilation, this supply closet certainly feels like the burning flames of Hell.

“Why are you always such an ass? It’s not like it’s my fault you followed me in here.” 

There’s a long silence before Park groans, and thanks to the security light of the gymnasium, shining through the crack under the door, you see him rub his face with both hands. “I needed to borrow an armguard from here, mine’s busted!” Saying this, Jinyoung shrugs it off, throwing the garment across the room. You hear it fly by more than you see, rolling your eyes when it hits a wall.

“Whatever you say, stalker.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You think everyone is obsessed with you!” He barks, clearly unpleased by the nickname. It’s something you’ve been calling him for years. You aren’t even sure when that even started, over ten years ago probably. All you know is that suddenly, an insufferable little boy started showing up every day to practice with you, and you had to share your trainers with him. He even got in the same exclusive program as you did, on the second scholarship. Much to your despair, he followed you everywhere, like a stalker. “All the guys from the team are wrapped around your little finger. They’d do anything to get in your pants.” Even in the darkness, you see Jinyoung’s eyes narrow, spiteful. “I’m not desperate enough to settle for you.”

“Of course not, Park.” You smile, pushing his buttons despite the fact that you shouldn’t. “You’re too frigid and boring for me. I bet you’ve never even gotten into any woman’s panties.” You’re not sure why the guys crushing on you are a problem to Jinyoung, but he sure likes to rant about this whenever he has a chance. As if you’re making them fall for you on purpose. It’s not your fault you’re the only woman who made the team.

He exhales audibly in frustration; “You’re so full of yourself, y/n. I’ve never met someone as disturbed and with an ego as big as yours.” 

“The feeling is mutual. Ain’t that a blessing, Park? That we found each other...”

“And contrary to popular belief, I’m not a boring virgin...” He says this out of nowhere and pauses to cough and peel his shirt from his body unsuccessfully. As soon as he lets it go, the cotton sticks to his abs all over again. The heat in here in insufferable, you’ll suffocate at this rate, and you don’t have any water. “I just don’t obsess over you or sex like the others. The WAC are all I care about.”

The World Archery Championships, the gateway to the next Olympic Summer Games. One of the reasons you’re looking forward to you two being (obviously) eligible to participate, is the idea of competing against Park. He might be training and living here, but he’ll get to represent his country; South Korea. You’ll destroy his team’s female archers; you’re way better than any competitors of your generation. Even Jinyoung can’t argue with that. It helps you train to have a goal, someone to tear down. You discovered that when you first met him.

“Good to know what you fantasize about...” You announce, giving up on any sense of pride and decency. It’s way too hot in here to remain proper. “At least you won’t ever gawk at me.” Struggling with the wet fabric, you manage to take your t-shirt off. There’s no way you’re staying here all night, marinating in your own sweat. 

There’s a scoff of disbelief, loud and clear. “Are you trying to seduce me?” You freeze on your knees, finally freed from the disgusting piece of clothing. You did not expect him to assume anything like that. “I mean… People do talk a lot about you crushing on me... But I just told you I’m not interested, y/n.”

“You wish, Park.” You spit through your teeth, “I’m just melting over here.”

“Why does this feel like the plot of one of your dumb dramas?”

“Trust me. Dramas did not prepare me for this.”

“Lock two people in a blazing room, wait for them to strip and they end up…” He completes his sentence with less than appropriate hand gestures.

“Ew, I’d sooner fuck Wang than you.”

“I hear you already did.” Jinyoung almost sounds vexed, but you’re too embarrassed to look his way and confirm. Sure, you have enough confidence to sit there in your bra, but it doesn’t mean you want to hold his gaze while you’re half-naked. “I’m probably cleaner than he is.”

“Probably.” You agree with a shrug. Why does he even care? “But the major difference is; I don’t hate Wang.”

A loud silence falls between you, almost deafening in the tiny space of the sealed off storage. It stretches, and it’s after five minutes or an hour of this that Jinyoung loses his mind. You don’t know, none of you has a phone; they’re prohibited during practice.

“That’s it!” Jinyoung barks, jumping to his feet. “I’m not spending all night in here, listening to shit like this!”

You watch, unbothered as he paces back and forth, eyes glued to the vent that is pushing warm air in. What is he planning to do? Crawl in there like a spy? Suddenly, Jinyoung takes off his own training shirt, and you try not to stare. Oh shit, he’s built, you hadn’t noticed before. Nice arms and shoulders, he’s an archer after all. He even has an amazing torso. Amazing? You blink, tearing your eyes away from his honey skin. What is wrong with you, are you having a heat stroke? That is Park Jinyoung! Your worst enemy; the boy who boasted about breaking your Target Archery long standing record after he only had been training for a year!

“10 bucks say you can’t fit in there.” Despite the situation, you want to further annoy him.

You visually compare his sculpted shoulders to the metal frame of the air vent. Huh huh. No way. Jinyoung doesn’t even bother acknowledging your bet. He’s busy rummaging through the stuff on the nearest shelf, emptying the content of plastic milk crates to pile them. He still has a long way to go through, that ceiling is high. 

“Come here, y/n.” He eventually requests, groaning as he pushes the shelf to make space.

You raise a brow in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

Jinyoung stands, raising his arms to the sky. “Come on, you’re right. I obviously don’t fit it there!”

“You want me to crawl into the hot air vent?” Your whole face twists in horror, the man must have truly lost his mind. “Who am I, Kim Possible?”

“Let’s spend some quality time together then… We have all the time in the world to talk things through… See where that gets us, maybe we can even become friends.” He leans against the shelf, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, and I hope someone needs something from this storage tomorrow morning!”

Before he’s done with his sentence, you’re up next to him. “Ok, what’s the plan?” 

He shakes his head, probably impressed with his own convincing skills. “This obviously runs straight over to the gym, I’ll help you get inside. If you manage to find a way out, you can unlock me. If not… We’ll just be back to square one.”

You’re skeptical when you watch him get on the wobbly pile of crates and open up the vent, but you have to admit the risk seems worth it. You’d rather be stuck in there than down here with him anyway. Careful, you accept the hand he’s offering to help you up on the fortune pyramid. Once you’ve joined him, you’re closer than you’ve ever been before. Your mouths are inches apart. It’s the first time you smell the sweat on his skin or see him like this. You feel a shiver run down your spine, something instinctive that you push aside. Before you can wrap your head around this effect he seems to have on you, Jinyoung’s hands are on your hips. He hoists you up, using his bent knee as a step. Your legs stick to his damp chest, and he looks up expectantly. You’re glad it’s too dark for him to read your expression because he’d never let you live if he saw. You just discovered you find him attractive, and the whole situation is… Perhaps that’s because of what he said earlier about dramas, but…

“This is beginning to feel more like a torrid porno than a drama.”

You regret the joke as soon as you say it. His eyes go dark. “Good to know what you fantasize about... But I’m just trying to get us out of here.” You inhale sharply at his reply, brought back to reality. “Help me a bit, y/n,” Jinyoung asks, voice even more tensed, “with your arms...” 

Slightly out of it, you take your hands off his shoulders like he’s ardent. They treacherously found that support by reflex, to keep your balance when he grabbed you. Shit. Obeying, you reach for the metal frame to pull as he lifts. Faster than you expected, and with much ease, you find your way to the ceiling. Boy must have been working out. 

“Can you m-make it?” He grunts distractingly under you. Why are you even finding that sound sexy now? You really need to get out of this damn closet, or else...

“Yes, I think I… Let me just…” Arms first, you twist your way through the entrance of the vent. It’s scorching, hotter than you expected, and dark as night. Once you’ve managed to get your chest inside, you feel his hands slide on your thighs, almost on your-

“Park!” You shout into the echoing metal and he stops.

“Something wrong? You’re halfway in.”

Your mouth opens in awe, understanding he doesn’t care what he’s touching at all. Jinyoung might as well be frigid for real; you’re the only one affected apparently. He resumes pushing, fingers digging the back of your thighs, probably marking them. With his help, you worm your way inside, managing to win a few inches by twisting and wiggling. Trying not to think of his hands on you like that… It is way harder than you expected, even if you’re inside a disgusting enclosed space. What a sight this must be for him, your ass dangling like that.

“Shit.” You hear his muffled curse and freezes. Park Jinyoung never swears.

“W-What?” Sweat is dripping from your face, falling in the burning metal. If you stay here longer, you’ll roast like a chicken on a grill.

“Hum, I don’t think your as… Your h-hips aren’t gonna make it.”

“What? No! Push!” Squirming with a renewed fervour, you feel him directly press on your ass cheeks this time. Unfortunately, he’s right. Although you try your best, the metal frame only digs your hips dolorously. You give up after a minute; you’re completely wet by then. The air in there is barely breathable, and both the physical effort and the idea of his close proximity have drained you. “Get me out.”

There’s nothing, no answer.

“Get me out, please!” 

Your eyes round in horror, panic rising. Surely he wouldn’t abandon you like that… Wiggling, you try to back away, but you lack the support and strength to escape this Hell.

“... Park?” Your voice is nothing but a miserable whimper this time. You lay there, inert, halfway through the burning air vent. That’s the single stupidest thing you’ve ever done; trust him. “Jinyoung!” Your tone is shakier than you’d wish, but his muted answer finally comes.

“I was considering…” He clears his throat, clearly embarrassed by something. “What if you took your shorts off? I think the-”

“Please, get me out! It burns!” You beg, unable to tell if he’s joking. By this point, your naked skin is painfully sticking to the metal. It was the worst idea. You start to cry, tears stinging your eyes. “Jinyoung, please-”

“Ok ok! I got you!” His hands are back on your thighs, pulling you to him.

You back out as fast as you can, skin marking even if you’re careful not to get stuck and burned. It takes double the time as it took to get in. When you finally exit, your panic causes you both to fall off the pile of crates. Your breathing is erratic as you sit, back on the floor of the closet. You’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow, but at least you’ve made it out. You don’t even realize Jinyoung is the one who absorbed most of the drop. Running your hands over the wet hair that has escaped your ponytail, you try to calm down unsuccessfully. You thought you were going to suffocate in there.

“Hey, are you alright?” Jinyoung manages to sit. He winces, hands catching your forearm to better see one of the red marks in the dim lighting. “I didn’t consider how hot it’d be.”

“I- I- I t-thought,” you pant, half-hyperventilating, half-weeping. “You l-left me!”

Jinyoung’s face falls, almond eyes rounding. “I’d never, y/n…” He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears and sweat with his thumbs. “I didn’t think you’d get hurt.” He keeps stroking you, and you let him do it, forgetting for a brief moment that you hate him. Your breathing begins to slow down, matching his. “I’m so sorry it was a bad idea, but I’d never do this on purpose. Ever. Why would you even think that?”

“You h-hate me.” You whine and he scoffs, breath ghosting over your face.

“Whom would I fight with if you weren’t there?” Jinyoung chuckles still holding you like he’s also forgotten he’s not supposed to. You blink, unable to comprehend his words. You’ve known him for years; you’ve been playing this game for a long time. You know the rules. Trying to tear away, but he follows. Really, what’s with you and him tonight? You whine ever so slightly and the corner of his pout jiggles. “If this was a drama… That’s when I’d kiss you.” After this, he coolly sits back, leaning on his open palms and making his forearms flex. You stay there frozen still, in a daze. What was that? 

Annoyed, to be this affected, you turn to hit his arm roughly. “What’s with you and all these drama ref-” Jinyoung’s mouth muffles the rest of your scolding.

He’s kissing you. 

Park Jinyoung is kissing you, and you should fight back… Unfortunately, the only thing you do at the moment is laying on the floor, tugging at his neck for him to remain over you. Wow, that’s not what he expected. Jinyoung follows, apparently not minding your sweaty state and poor presentation. You’re not doing any better, fingers digging the muscles of his shoulders. You had no idea he was this sexy all along; it feels like you should’ve been made aware of this. If you had, perhaps you wouldn’t have been as surprised and overwhelmed tonight. You wouldn’t be giving in to this crazy urge of having him all over. Jinyoung’s mouth opens yours and your tongues meet messily. None of you cares or wants to retake control of the situation, you’re just going at it. Making the best of a shitty night. His left hand is between your head and the floor; the other one is caressing down your belly gently.

“I thought you weren’t interested...” Managing to get the words out, you feel his breath on your cheek when he chuckles. 

“Just this once, just now.” He replies, nose nudging yours. “I thought you hated me.” 

“I still do.” Your nails trace his spine, leaving a scratch behind. He rolls your lower lip between his teeth, straight up challenging. His mouth drops to your jaw, exploring down on your neck. You shut your eyes, feeling his teeth graze your collarbone. “Jesus.” Curving against his chest, you hush, and he hums on your skin, pleased by the reaction. Jinyoung’s hand drops from your stomach to your hip, then to your thigh and ass. It stays there, holding on tightly. That’s your cue to reach for a t-shirt that was abandoned on the floor earlier, using it as a fortune pillow. When he offers you a quizzical look, you smirk. “Who knows how long we’ll be here… Might as well make us comfortable. Oh, and tell me... What do we do to kill time, now that your escape plan has failed?”

His erection is already pressed on your thigh through his shorts, and there are goosebumps all over your body. You hate to admit, but you’re so turned on you want to take this further, and you hope he’s on the same page.

Nothing could have prepared you to his burning look right then. “I have a few ideas...” He says, clicking his tongue. Before you can question anything, his mouth is trailing down your body with an obvious end goal. He kisses your belly button and pauses there, thumbs hooked into the waistband of your stretchy gym shorts. “If that’s fine by you,” Jinyoung adds in a business-like manner. Count on him to be so formal even when he’s unmistakably proposing to eat you out.

Your hands are already in your hair to hold on to something, and you nod, gaze crazy. He smirks, tugging your clothes down. As soon as you’re exposed, his mouth resumes. You should probably be more embarrassed by this weird intimacy. You feel sweaty and disgusting, but Jinyoung doesn’t seem to mind so you quickly forget all about it. He grips your thighs to allow himself access. You arch, waiting for his touch, and he dodges your sex at the last second.

“Shit.” You swear when he keeps going down with his butterfly kisses, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. Jinyoung was never one to ruin an opportunity by shooting too soon, and apparently, he’s going to be the same when it comes to this. His lips are damp and soft, brushing all over the inner sensitive part of your thighs. Fuck, you’re already so ready. “J-Jinyoung…” You purr, wiggling under him for mercy. 

“Shit.” He seems to agree by echo, words muted by your skin. Leisurely, he comes closer to your sex again, like he’s got all the time in the world. He’s one Hell of a tease. Although you're not sure when you’ll get rescued, you’re pretty certain you’ll be dead by morning if he keeps this up. “You’re so pretty.” It’s so unexpected that you don’t know what to reply, so you don’t. Jinyoung presses the most infuriating kiss on your mons, making you tremble under him. Bringing his right hand under your ass, he spreads your labia, observing intently. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Park…” You whine, done with his antics. “Are you doing this just to make me hate you more?”

“But that’s my favourite part, y/n… Making you angry.” He smiles, smearing your arousal with his thumb. It’s clear he’s a little shit, even in bed. “I usually like to take it slow… But not you, no... You’re always doing things too fast. I bet you could already take my cock... Do you think you could?”

Ok, again, not what you expected from someone as buttoned-down as him. Your mouth remains ajar as you moan in reply, hips rising in hopes of pressing closer to his thumb. If you thought he was hot earlier, it was nothing; right now he’s the sexiest man ever. He has all the power, and you gladly let him have it for once. You want him too much to fight. Jinyoung eyes go dark once more, and he licks his lips. He lowers himself, but instead of pleasuring you, he takes his time to lick his own finger clean. 

“No arguing? Since where are you this horny for me?” Are you supposed to play along, is dirty talk his thing? How unexpected. It’s a fun new game. “I would have fucked you sooner if I knew.”

His words make your core clench on nothing. “Since you took off your shirt...” You’re a fast learner. “I’ve been dripping wet.”

“Locked in here with me...” Jinyoung sighs, gaze dropping to your glistening sex. “You said it felt like a torrid porno.” A sweat droplet falls between your breasts. “Those words coming out of your mouth… I’ve been hard since then.”

“Jinyoung.” You sing in awe, suppressing a shiver. You had no idea.

At his name, he decides he’s done enough teasing for now. He obliges after an eternity, licking up your slit. You gasp and he ends by pressing a kiss on your clit before doing it again. Shit. He repeats the gesture, tasting your juices one last time before concentrating on your bud. His tongue flattens, swirling and nudging your clit. It’s not long until he finds the perfect motion that has you jolting against his face. “F-Fuck!” You cry, not bothering to remain quiet when there’s no one to hear. He’s amazing. Shit, ‘not a boring virgin’ he said.

Running his fingers on your sex, Jinyoung smears your wetness until they’re soaked. Then slowly, he inserts one of them inside you to help his task. He doesn’t falter, obviously almost as heavily turned on as you by all this. Adding another finger, he keeps going, sucking more and more harshly until you’re practically dancing under him. The sounds filling the storage are filthy, but can’t find it in you to mind. You’re seeing stars, enjoying every single second as he eats you out. Jinyoung lasts longer than any guy ever, waiting diligently to build you up. He’s determined to show you he’s the best at everything, not just archery. This moment stretches out until you’re spent and clenching uncontrollably. He accelerates; not changing anything. He’s aware you can’t handle it for much longer and that it’s repetition that’s getting you off. Soon, your eyes roll into your head. You cry out his name as you come, thighs clenching around him. Your hips rise against his face one last time, and he sees you through your orgasm. Holding you until you’re done and clean before finally pulling away from your sex. 

Afterwards, you stay on the ground, panting, heartbeat deafening in your ears. You can’t believe you just came that hard on Park Jinyoung’s face. Jesus Christ. Shouldn’t you feel embarrassed? There’s no real reason to though, not when he’s the one who ate you this diligently in the first place. He clearly wanted it, asked. Unaware of your awkward train of thoughts, Jinyoung lies beside you, exhausted but still very smug of accomplishment.

“That was…” You begin shyly, but trail off. “I’ve never… With someone...” He rolls to kiss your shoulder, and h hard-on brushes you.

“Perfect.” Jinyoung simply replies, getting it, he’s even more pleased with himself. You turn to face him on the ground, breathing slowing down. Pecking his chin, you wrap your arm around his waist to pull him closer. You had forgotten where you were; in the gym’s dirty storage.

“Only many hours left ‘til morning...”

“Mmm…” He doesn’t pull away when your hand slip in his training shorts. “Due to an unfortunate incident, my schedule’s cleared tonight.”

“What are you saying, Park?” Tracing the outline of the strain in his briefs, you raise an eyebrow.

“I’m saying… I’m not too busy to make you come a few more times.” Jesus. He blinks, pulling you closer to add in your ear; “I’ve actually dreamt of having you like this for a long time.”

“Really?” You exhale, out of it. That’s impossible, you’d know.

“Sure. Every time the guys are around, you turn the charm on, but when we’re all alone...” The rest of his sentence is up in the air, but you get what he means. Jinyoung plops himself up on an elbow to read your reaction. “You never once wondered about what I think of your slutty training outfits? Then tonight you go and take your top off like I’m not in here. You’re always so mean to me, forgetting I’m a man too. ”

You cross the last barrier of fabric between him and your hand, smirking. Again, you had no idea he thought of you that way. Jinyoung immediately twitches in your palm, cock swelling even more at the skin-to-skin contact. He’s larger than you expected. “How am I doing now?” You coo, snuggling in his neck as you stroke him. 

“Better.” He admits, almost inaudible. Your hand tightens around his length and Jinyoung grunts. “Mean. I think I’ll have to fuck you hard a few times, teach you some respect.” With that, he rises above you and you laugh, helping to get rid of his shorts and underwear. When he’s freed Jinyoung lies between your legs, cock directly on your swollen cunt. 

You gulp, toes curling tightly from expectations. “How do those dreams usually go?”

Jinyoung’s jaw clenches in concentration and he rocks his hips, rubbing himself on your wetness. He breathes out haltingly, “Sometimes, you’re just bent over a chair at a championship, and I fuck you while everyone’s in the room.” 

“O-Oh!” Your eyes automatically shut when his tip brushes your clit.

“But more often, it’s like this; all sweaty after practice, no one else at the training ground…” His voice is strained, and you totally relate. Eager to feel him inside you already, you align him to your core. You can’t bear to hear shit like this anymore.

He doesn’t seem to mind the guidance. Almost instantly, he begins to push in. His head enters you slowly, and you spread your legs wider. You need him deeper, want him to fill you. Your tightened walls stretch around his cock until he’s inside you, throbbing. Jinyoung lets out a weird sound, almost breaking. He’s a lot less talkative now. Using your hands on his hips, you force him back and then forward, the friction nearly making you lose your mind.

“Shit.” Jinyoung breathes out, unstable. 

“Shit,” you confirm, word morphing into a groan when he moves again. He’s tougher this time, fingers digging your right thigh firmly.

He slides into you with ease, your core more than ready for his cock. Jinyoung finds a fast rhythm hitting you hard every time. You can’t believe how good it feels; letting him have his way with you like that. He thrusts powerfully for a moment before pulling out, much to your displeasure. 

“On all fours.” At his order, you hurry to flip while he observes, pumping his dick with your juices.

He’s back between your legs at once, spreading them with his own. Not wasting any second, he positions himself at your entrance. You fall on your forearms when he pushes back in, eyes rounding in ecstasy. He’s closer than before, cock fitting your core so perfectly you cry out. Shit. Jinyoung repeats his thrust, and you swear loudly, making him chuckle.

Again. Again.

He grabs your ass, sinking himself deeper, and with way more urgency. His balls hit you with every grind forward. Unforgiving, he keeps going until you’re on the very edge again, gasping. You arch even more, and when his hips meet your ass this time, you almost break. He hits something up your core that’s so intense it hurts of the greatest pain.

Again. Again.

You’re a mess, knees and ass burning, but you don’t want him to stop. You beg him to keep going and he does. Making sure to fuck you like no one has ever. Covered in perspiration, Jinyoung’s not holding back much better than you. He’s unsure if he’ll be able to keep pace much longer.

“C-Come!” Jinyoung requests with authority, and you whimper under him. “Come for me, baby!” 

As though his command is magical, you break apart; tightening and convulsing around him. He pulls out before being overwhelmed, letting you ride off your second orgasm on your own. It’s just in time because he comes right away too. Spilling on your ass with a shudder, unable to contain himself anymore. You don’t even seem to notice, head still in the clouds. He wipes off his mess with his briefs; not bothering to think about what he’ll wear later. Falling on the ground before him, you’re breathless and obviously completely satisfied.

This escapade will not help with his bravado when you’re back to reality. Jinyoung lies next to you, one of his arms under his head and the other one on your back. It’s as though he can’t stop touching you just yet. You are still too high to be self-aware and remember what you two are outside this storage. The silence that fills the air is nothing like earlier, relaxed and comfortable. It coexists with your breathing slowing down, yours and his almost synchronized.

It takes a long time for you to break it, unable to keep your train of thoughts to yourself. “What a plot twist to the drama.” Staring at the dark ceiling, you miss the smug smile on Jinyoung’s lips. 

“What is?” He asks, absentmindedly rubbing circles on the curve of your back to break the droplets of sweat accumulating there. 

“Us,” you reply after a heartbeat, “this.”

He snorts, “This isn’t a plot twist at all. Everyone saw it coming but you.”

Raising on an elbow to observe him, you frown in confusion; “Really?”

“Sure.” Jinyoung is smiling dumbly, an expression you have never seen him before. “What did you think all that sexual tension was going to amount for?”

You think for a moment. “Murder.”

He straight up laughs, loud and clear. “Jeez y/n. How can you be so dense...”

“Shuddup,” groaning, you nudge him and he catches your hand, “I hate you.” You both stare at your linked hands, not needing words to express your true feelings at the moment. “How many hours do you think we have before morning?” 

When you ask this, he turns to stare at you in disbelief. “Probably enough for us to die of dehydration if we keep this up...”

Smirking, you lower yourself for a kiss. “I dunno,” you murmur against his lips, “it’d sure be a sweet death...” Laughing quietly, Jinyoung pulls you over him.

You have no idea how long you’ll remain locked in this storage… But you’re certain you’ll use the time you have left wisely from now on.

GOT7 | M.list

[artificialqueens]

Hotel California, Chapter 5 (Gigi/Jackie) - Roza

summary: jackie is beginning to struggle with her own anxiety and worry about the situation at home while gigi seems to be in nothing but an utter euphoria.

author's note: thank you jankie candle for all the support and to meg for being my wonderful beta! I hope you all enjoy and tumblr is @leljaaa as always xx

AO3 Link / My Tumblr: @leljaaa / ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`)

— *.✧

Three fateful days had passed since Gigi and Jackie had officially slept with one another.

Jackie kept track, it was something of importance to her.

It was definitely a bold move on both of their parts but especially the Persian who was still the refugee, the one who would be twice as targeted for it, the one who would take all of the blunt force and trauma as the news would roll in more and more about the revolution.

Gigi was in utter heaven knowing that she had no restrictions as long as they were alone or decently private and away from everyone else though Crystal caught on rather quickly and it was only natural Jan was told, the blonde smiled wide and gasped the minute the other had told her over the phone.

They giggled softly like high schoolers once again even if in the back of their head they knew that this was not a good idea for either Gigi or Jackie.

Being in love.

Not just being in love but being in love with a refugee from Iran, being hopelessly devoted to Jackie who still had that ticket to Canada set in stone. Gigi attempted to simply convince herself that the eighties would be better and that all of Jackie’s internalized homophobia would eventually cease when the revolution died down.

It has to end eventually doesn’t it?

The American only hoped innocently for things to return as they were as she slowly engulfed herself more and more into the politics of Iran so Jackie would not feel so damn outcast and alone. She was not perfect but it was a step, one that the Persian beside her appreciated leaps and bounds.

Every endeavour together ended with a long and loving kiss before Gigi would become flustered and watch Jackie chuckle at the red speckles across her cheeks.  

She awoke gently to mumbled newscasters going on and on about the current headlines as she realized she had fallen asleep on the couch by mistake. She wished she had fallen asleep with Jackie instead.

“I don’t care,” she groaned out as she took a sip from the already opened can of Pepsi that sat on the coffee table beside the arm of the brown couch. Her fingers tapped every button possible before she reached an international headline that made her eyes widen.

“Breaking news...On the morning after the Shah declared martial law, security forces fired on a large protest in Tehran’s Jaleh Square. At least 100 have been killed as the revolution continues…”

Gigi jumped up as she instantly raced for the door, not caring that she was still in her outfit from last night; Jackie was the only thing on her mind constantly but hearing the news only made her twice as ridden with horror not even being able to imagine what the Perisan felt.

Running down the field as she skipped a long to the complex beside her home did not feel one bit weird, she needed to see how Jackie was doing even in her dusty old dress from the night before where they had managed to make hummus, Gigi failing terribly though the Persian saved the day and made it delightful.

“It’s me,” the blonde yelled as she knocked twice on the wooden door, her lips unknowingly curling into a smile the moment she heard Jackie’s muffled talking from the other side. The door opened as the Persian smiled gently, her eyes utterly red and stained with tears.

She definitely knows what happened.

The Persian pulled her friend into her current home as she sniffled, hands on her hips as Gigi tugged her sleeves and opened her arms. Jackie grinned with a snicker as she felt herself happily drop

“I ran down the hallway as soon as I heard,” she admitted in a faint mumble as Jackie kissed her lips, not wanting to even think about what was currently going on. Gigi was her favourite distraction from her own issues and problems, she would use that to her advantage.

The blonde smirked, always happy to kiss the Persian even if it was more for personal reasons than to be romantic. Her hands dropped down to her waist as she enjoyed the impromptu make out session as best as she could.

Jackie hummed, admitting that this had been an awful day but somehow Gigi managed to take all of the pain away. It was a harsh reality that the Persian had to live with but somehow her happiness came perfectly on time in the form of a slightly shorter, blonde biker with the cutest smile and best one liners.

“I’m convinced we can solve world peace by just kissing quietly,” the Persian smiled as Gigi cackled, nodding her head at the statement.

“Kissing you is like heaven, what can I say?” Gigi mumbled against her lips as Jackie grinned slightly, never one to reject a kiss from her the blonde. Her fingers gently ran through her hair, twirling strands of the curls as the Persian wrapped her arms around her neck.

It was always going to be difficult for Jackie to take in all of these strong, new feelings towards the blonde for multiple reasons but she was simply attempting to win the war against herself and her own preconceived notions.

Just because I am in love with a woman does not make me any less of a human being or any less of a Persian.

They sat on Jackie’s bed together, listening to the birds who chirped outside on the trees as the both of them were silent, tangled together and holding each other.

 “Do you want to go riding together? I can take you for some very overpriced, very mediocre ice cream,” Gigi asked against her skin as Jackie couldn’t help but smile wide and nod her head, entranced.

“I would love to.”

— *.✧

“This is quite nice, do you really find it that awful?” Jackie asked curiously as she licked her pistachio ice cream beside the blonde who seemed to instantaneously devour her mint chocolate chip ice cream in the span of three minutes.

“I think it’s fine just not worth ten dollars but consider this a date,” she winked as the two rubbed shoulders, strolling down the neverending beach and sand that plagued the coastline.

Jackie shrugged, gently beginning to bite her cone curiously as she sighed in relief. She had never lived near a beach her entire life so being near a beach felt like a privilege.

“Do you come here often? The weather is quite lovely, I am surprised no one else is here besides us and the one woman we saw a few minutes ago,” Jackie asked aloud before Gigi shook her head, admitting that Hollywood Beach was never of interest to her unless Crystal and Jan wanted to spend the day in the water or attempt to surf.

“I have never been a huge beach person and I was born at the hospital in Long Beach, a coastal city we have here in the state; the utter irony.”

The Persian sighed in relief as she stared out at the open ocean, wandering if her family was okay as Gigi pressed a kiss to her neck, interlocking their hands tightly as Jackie nervously shook her head, clasping her own hands together.

“Jackie…”

“Not in public,” she whispered, the blonde sighed as she knew that from the beginning it was Jackie’s biggest rule and fear. Gigi beating up and stabbing the two men outside the grocery store a few days ago did not help this sentiment.

“I love you,” she mumbled quietly as the waves crashed onto the shore, their feet becoming wet with the cold Pacific ocean beneath them as Jackie mouthed the words back not skipping a beat.

The Middle Eastern woman stared off into the distance, finding herself stuck in a constant day dream about being back home in Iran, even with the ongoing revolution and then the fantasy of staying in California with Gigi and living the rest of her life by her side.

They spent another two hours laughing aloud on the beach and strolling aimlessly before the heat became unbearable and they wanted to leave and go back to an air conditioned room.

“Do you want to spend the night with me?” Jackie asked out of the blue as they made their way back to Gigi’s motorcycle. The blonde smirked, knowing exactly what that would entail as she nodded heavily.

“That would be perfect,” She added as Jackie hopped up on the bike behind her, arms once again around her back tightly as Gigi took off for the ride back home.

Jackie attempted to focus on all the palm trees or the colorful buildings that molded her vision of California however nothing was being played except that damn headline.

Over and over.

Slowly the revolution grew not only more violent but to a larger international scale, she had to see the news from American outlets and not her own family though Jackie assumed hearing it from home would only be worse.

She had not yet gotten the chance to call her family but planned to do so the next time they went out early or late at night, time zone conversions had become the biggest bitch of all.

Jackie felt lost, she knew Gigi was attempting to at least get a grip on politics and stay informed on the revolution but it did not feel the same as speaking to her best friends or university classmates or family.

Everything she attempted to say felt lost in English, she felt five times dumber and knew that even though everyone complimented her consistently on her well spent degree and her skills in the language she was still the outsider.

Not just the outsider but the Persian outsider.

She was currently the butt of the joke, the insults were all directed her way and she simply had to keep a straight face against all of the accusations and comments.

"My mother didn't raise me to yell at uneducated street rats," she would tell Gigi as hecklers would pass by them on the streets, cussing out Jackie who definitely looked Persian enough to get long stares or subtle glances consistently.

And now, she wasn't just Persian she was a Persian in love with a woman.

Her lips were utterly sealed to her family when it came to the matter of Gigi and her current endeavour and relationship with the blonde.

She simply said that she had met some good American friends around her age that were helping her explore California.

Who knew I would be deep in exploring things besides America.

Jackie simply tried not to think about it though that always proved impossible considering her entire status and story in America was that she was a "helpless" refugee from Iran.

Crystal occasionally spoke to her in comfort, admitting that seeing her mother who had immigrated from Mexico to California almost two decades ago for a better life still being teased simply for being her the moment they left the comfort of Los Angeles or Hollywood was unbearable to hear.

I deserve to be here just as much as someone who was born here.

Gigi parked the motorcycle and turned off the ignition as she gently hopped off, holding Jackie's hand as she dusted down the red romper Crystal had gifted her with a smile.

"You look good in that, so much better than Crystal did," the blonde flirted as Jackie snickered, unable to hold back her laughter upon hearing the comment.

Almost as if on cue the two of them saw the redhead in the distance, across Gigi's house waving in her floral printed Hawiian shirt as Jackie gestured her over.

The blonde cocked a brow, a bit disappointed that they wouldn't be alone as planned though she couldn't possibly complain if their company was her best friend.

"You look so great," Crystal chirped as she adjusted the sleeves for the Persian girl, Gigi grinned in utter heaven staring at Jackie as the redhead snapped her best friend out of the trance.

"We get it you think Jackie is hot," she groaned aloud quietly as the blonde rolled her eyes, punching her shoulder teasingly as Jackie gave a bright smile and pushed her hair back.

"So lovebirds, are you going back to Jackie's place to hang?"

"That was the plan."

Jackie nodded before asking if Crystal would like to join them for some drinks and food for at least an hour or two.

"So polite, I love it," Crystal winked before Gigi coughed wildly, feeling her jealous side begin to peak as she watched the redhead make an attempt to flirt.

Jackie shushed Gigi as the Mexican girl admitted that she could stay for an hour but no more because she had some more work to do for the recreational center.

"Oh shut up, my dad loves you, he's not going to care if you take a few hours off especially not with me."

Admitting defeat, Crystal raised her arms and laughed as she followed the couple back to Jackie's place. The three of them shuffled towards the hallway before the Persian gently opened the door and let Crystal and Gigi enter first, snagging a kiss from the blonde as she walked through the doorway.

"Would you like anything to drink or eat Crystal?" Jackie asked as she opened the fridge, grabbing the bottle of tequila that Gigi had managed to steal from the grocery store a few days ago.

"Your girlfriend is so wonderful Gigi," she teased obnoxiously before giving a thumbs up at the tequila bottle. The blonde scoffed, kissing Jackie's forehead as she grabbed the glasses.

"I've never seen Gigi so speechless, I'm so impressed Jackie," the younger woman admitted as the Persian heard Gigi mumble something along the lines of "I'm speechless every night you just don't get to hear it."

Crystal laughed as Jackie gently grabbed her lover's chin, whispering at her in Farsi to stop speaking so dirty in front of her own friend; somehow expecting for Gigi to understand a lick of what she was saying.

"I don't know what you said but I'm completely turned on right now," she whispered as they pressed their lips together, grinning wildly as Jackie gave Crystal the tequila bottle.

"Cheers to being single!" She awkwardly added aloud as she shotgunned the tequila she had poured. Gigi frowned, defending her best friend and saying that eventually she would find someone.

"I thought I did but clearly she had other plans," Crystal admitted bitterly as Jackie widened her eyes in shock, a bit confused though both her and Gigi turned their attention to Crystal.

"Jaida is happy where she is now, I won't blame her or Jan," the minute the words left Crystal's lips Jackie gasped in shock.

"You and Jaida? I had no idea I'm so sorry," the Persian mumbled as she rubbed Crystal's shoulders for comfort.

"It was only a few months, don't worry about it, of course you had no idea obviously."

"I did not know about this either," Gigi replied a bit angry as Crystal bit her tongue anxiously in front of her best friend, apologising for the long held secret.

"So is that why you two were avoiding conversation at the rink?"

Crystal nodded in silence.

"You will find that person, your soulmate; trust me, it might be in the most unexpected situations," Jackie added sweetly as she smiled at Gigi, gazing at her lover towards the end of her sentence.

"Oh so I'm your soulmate? How romantic," Gigi mouthed as Jackie stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes.

"I was really in love, what a shame." She hummed before adding that she and Jan had no bad blood about it, it was simply just a lost cause to fight about it at this point.

Jackie could understand, Jaida was extremely attractive and seemed sweet, grounded and intelligent and quite the catch especially for girls as bubbly and extroverted as Jan and Crystal.

"Never say never," Gigi hummed. "In my heart of hearts if you want the truth I still think she's in love with you and not Jan. Give it a solid month or two and I think she will realize that you're the one."

Crystal and Jackie looked beyond interested to how the blonde had come to that conclusion so quickly after just two minutes ago she said that Jan was Jaida's perfect match.

"I might love Jan and think they're cute but I saw her staring at you when you were skating, I'm not stupid."

Jackie ran a hand through her partner's hair as she offered Crystal some food she had prepared last night.

The redhead shook her head, attempting to hide the permanent frown painted across her face.

"No thank you, I'll stick to the alcohol."

— *.✧

Jackie smiled as she felt Gigi wrap her arms around her waist and pull her closer in the bed, the two of them beginning to become sleepy after all the physical activity they had just done to say the very least.

"You're perfect," Gigi mumbled as the Persian beside her flushed not knowing how to genuinely respond to a compliment of such high praise.

"I believe you are also perfect," Jackie finally responded as she ran her fingertip's through Gigi's long, blonde hair as she occasionally planted a kiss near her earlobe.

"So I'm your soulmate?" The American teased beside her before Jackie groaned, admitting that maybe it was a strong choice of words for them only being together for barely two weeks.

"It was beautiful, I almost teared up," Gigi admitted as she tilted Jackie's head back to her own so she could gaze into her eyes.

"My English improves bit by bit," she joked before Gigi shut her lips with another kiss, the two of them giddy and gently melting into every affectionate gesture.

"I hope you never leave," the blonde whispered as she laid her head on Jackie's bare chest with a permanent smile planted on her mouth as she closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

Jackie swallowed her breath, unable to even speak on the matter.

"Goodnight Gigi," she said as she turned off the lamp beside her before running her hands through her partner's hair once again, thinking about all that had managed to happen these past two weeks.

I have to leave but I will keep quiet about that for now.

[fidgemimic]

betaadmin replied to your post: my brain over here thinkin abt jester getting a...

hey fidge WHY you gotta do this to me

because im sad abt this CONSTANTLY and i love it

he does borrow it eventually. either bc he asks jester, or she assumes he’d want to read it as well. but having it on his person feels like carrying a massive stone, and he’s almost terrified to open the cover and begin reading it.

beau gives him strange looks when he catches him not 40 pages in by the second day. he doesn’t notice - trying to keep his eyes on the words while frumkin digs his claws into caleb’s shoulders and purrs loudly. it helps keep away the foggy memories trying to creep through and pull him away from what’s in front of him. it works most times, but it only gets harder as he goes on.

he gets lost once - reaching a scene where the children, now teenagers, dance together in an empty house where no one can hear them. holding each other and laughing and feeling so, so happy and safe for reasons that they haven’t quite got an understanding of yet.

it had been late - two and a half hours past midnight - and they had been left in the cottage alone. master ikithon had been called on business in Rexxentrum, and had decided that the three of them would be left alone to study on their own. he would test them upon his return to ensure they had been working.

but until then, they were alone.

they had pushed the heavy furniture out of the center of the small bedroom - leaving a small clearing with just enough space for the three of them to practice dancing, trading off with each other in smooth, fluid movements. he can feel their hands still. astrid’s body in front of him, radiating warmth as she places a hand at his hip and entwines their fingers a bit too tightly. he welcomes the pressure - finds it calming - and has to resist the urge to pull her close just to prove they’re really here. eodwulf takes her place once they trade off, towering over bren by a good couple of inches as he places a hand on bren’s shoulder. his fingers always feel too cold, and bren carefully rubs his thumb over his knuckles hoping they warm.

they’re so different from each other and yet so utterly amazing in their own right. he thinks he loves them, but he can never bring himself to say it. but this is good as it is. together, safe, alone. laughing at each poorly placed step and half-whispered joke they say in the dark of this bedroom. his heart feels so full he thinks it might burst, but instead he laughs and leans into one of them, tears coming unbidden as the emotions become overwhelming-

a heavy hand on his shoulder pulls him back. his head feels stuffed with cotton, tight and unfocused. he blinks rapidly for a moment, but the tears in his eyes don’t clear, even as they roll down his face. the hand squeezes, and he looks over to see the blurry shape of beau sitting next to him.

“Hey, put that away for a minute, ok?” she says, vaguely motioning towards the book in his lap. caleb takes a shaking breath and complies. he will find his place later, if needed, though he didn’t look at the page number that he had been on. “You ok, man?”

He opens his mouth to speak, closes it and clears his throat when he notes how tight it feels. Looks to the stained wood of the table in front of him. “Ja. I am.. fine.”

She’s quiet for a beat, and he doesn’t dare look up - instead focused on reaching up to try and subtly wipe the tears from his eyes.

he watches as she reaches out and places a hand on the book in front of him.

“Maybe you should give this back to Jester. It looks like it’s not really doing you any good.”

“I.. I would like to finish it at the very least.”

he hears her sigh in annoyance. “You can finish it later. Like when you aren’t in the kind of mood where you’re going to keep doing that.. thing,” he sees movement out of the corner of his eye as beauregard waves a hand around her own head, “but I just saw you spacing out and crying in the middle of the tavern. You haven’t been reading this.”

“I have.” he mutters, a small bit of annoyance creeping into his own voice. “I am just... remembering.”

“Yea, but are they good memories?”

“Yes.” and that stops her. he looks back up, eyes meeting hers, and he can see the creeping hint of skepticism in the way her eyebrows are cocked. he can feel a horrible part of him, desperate for things he doesn’t deserve, begging. “Beauregard, these are some of the best memories that I have," his voice breaks terribly, and beau startles. his vision is blurring again, but he feels too stubborn in this moment to break eye contact to wipe them again. “I am asking you to let me have this. I will return the book when I am done, but just let me have this for a few more days.”

“fuckin.... fine.” she reaches up to scrub at her face and groan. the second her hand is gone from the book, he grips it close to his chest before he has a moment to even think about the action. a single finger reaches out to poke him harshly in the shoulder. “but listen - if you start actin fuckin weird and shit, or i have any reason to think that this is fucking you up worse than normal, i’m taking it. understand?”

“Ja - got it.”

“Cool. You have 3 more days.”

“Danke.”

she sits back in her seat, her gaze lingering on him for just a second before she brings up her ale to take a drink. caleb rests the book in his lap - content to be done reading for the time being. his head still feels foggy, his eyes wet and tired. he’s not sure if the book is doing anything good for him at all, honestly, but he can’t bring himself to leave it just yet. at the very least, beau allows a moment of silence between them, though he can see her fidgeting. the conversation isn’t finished yet, and watching her attempt to give him a second to recollect himself is almost as heart warming as it is utterly annoying.

“Do you have a question, Beauregard?”

she shoots him a half glare, but still attempts to act nonchalant.

“I mean.. I guess?” she mutters, crossing her arms, “I just.. like, you said you fell in love, right?”

he hums.

“But Jester and Nott have only ever mentioned Astrid.”

there’s a deep twinge of guilt in his chest. something that’s become more and more prominent the more he lets the nein think what they will about his old friends. he winces.

“Ah. Ja.”

“but it was both of them?”

he breathes. in. out. “Ja. I just.. I didn’t want them to ask more questions than they already had. Let them think what they will.”

beau snorts. “That’s a shitty idea that will definitely backfire.”

“I am aware.” he mutters back, his lips twitching into a small, sad smile. “I am, ah, worried I suppose. I think he would be very upset with me if he knew.”

that earns him a Look. “Why? I mean, I think if we meet up with your exes,” he nearly chokes at the word, “I don’t think whether or not you talked abt both of them to your friends is going to be anyone’s biggest issue.”

"Mm. You are definitely right about that.”

he nearly winces at how dejected his voice sounds as he says it, but instead he drops his gaze back to the book in his lap and places his hand on it, stroking the cover gently. they will have many problems if they were to ever see astrid and eodwulf again. his gossip about the two of them will hardly be at the top of their list, he’s sure.

beau glances at him, brows furrowed, and he can see the gears turning in her head. slowly, awkwardly, she places a hand on his shoulder again.

“If we, like, see them.. and they aren’t - you know - absolutely fucking crazy and evil and shit-”

“they will be, but go on.”

“yea but like, on the super off chance that they aren’t,” she pauses, looking him in the eye. her hand squeezes in what he assumes is her attempt at comforting him, “maybe we can do something. ok? i’m not promising shit, but.. you never know or whatever.”

he blinks, unsure of what to say or think. he doesn’t like the small spark of Something in his chest at the words - at the implication - and he tries desperately to stomp it down before it can burn too quickly.

“i.. do not think that will be an option.” he says carefully, “it has been a, ah, very long time. the empire is very good at ensuring it’s people do what it wishes - especially, ah, Him.” he breathes again shakily, ignoring the sudden race of his heart at the thought of that man. “but, ah.. thank you for the, the thought, beauregard.”

“hey man, it’s an option, alright? we’ve tried dumber shit and gotten out alive.” we really haven’t, he thinks, but stays silent. beau stands and grabs her drink, turning to walk away before pausing. instead, she turns back around and stares at him, then leans down to awkwardly wrap her arms around his shoulders. caleb freezes, suddenly unsure of what he’s supposed to do other than offering an awkward pat on the arm.

when she pulls away, she’s still got a hand on him. “i mean it though. if that book fucks you up, i’m taking it.”

he faulters, “J-ja, ok.”

“and you give it back in 3 days.”

“i remember, beauregard.”

“and if we see those two, we’re going to get them away from him.”

he doesn’t respond.

“okay?”

silence.

“Widogast.”

“beauregard,” he glares at her, his voice deeply tinged with warning as she glares back. he tries to ignore the anxiety crawling through his chest. “these are very dangerous people. if we meet them, it would be easier to kill them than it would be to change their minds.”

“if we have to kill them, we will,” she says, and his stomach twists at the thought. he’s considered the outcome hundreds of times over the years, but hearing someone speak it into existence makes it feel closer than ever. he reaches up to frumkin and scratches at his cheek, warranting a new round of loud purring that draw’s beau’s attention. “but if there’s something we can get a hold of, i’m will to try and pull them out. got it?”

there’s a pause before caleb nods, nearly imperceptible at how small it is.

"good.” she slaps his shoulder just a bit too hard, “good talk. enjoy your book.”

she turns and walks to the bar, leaving caleb at the table alone.

he glances down, eyes roaming over the cover of the book, using a single finger to softly trace the outline of three small figures huddled together in front of a lone house in the middle of a field. he breathes deeply, focusing on that and the sensation of frumkin’s purrs. he’s done reading for the night, he thinks. he can feel the familiar mental exhaustion creeping forward, already threatening to turn the soft lull of the dinner-crowd into a dull cacophony of grating voices and sharp, unexpected noises that will make his skin crawl.

collecting his items and draining the last of his ale, he stands and makes his way upstairs to the quiet of his room. putting the book away for now is simple, and there’s still a warmth in his chest that lingers from the soft memories of dancing alone in an empty home. he hopes - knows - that dreams will come, but at the very least he knows they will not be nightmares. and for that, he’s grateful.

[meztliel]

Pokeshipping Week 2018

Day 6: Returning to the River Where They Met (from the optional batch of themes)

Takes place between episode #42 and #43 of SM. A kind of "what if" scenario.

I may also do a fic for "Role Reversal" but if I do it's probably going to be a day or two late :v

***

Ash breathes in contently as he gazes at the long stretch of stars nestled in dark blue. They're a bit brighter here, unpolluted by the artificial glow that drowns them out in larger cities. The air at home is crisper, too, not at all like the humidity that wraps his skin like a damp cloth back in Alola.

Right now, Ash feels very much awake, and it's not simply due to jet lag, though that is a huge part of it.

As he sits outside on his mother's porch, the day's events play out in his mind over and over again, already being filed under his ever-growing pile of treasured memories.

Kiawe on Charizard racing a Rapidash. His mother's unrivaled cooking and the Oak cousins' groan-worthy puns. Lana fangirling over Misty. Even Team Rocket's unwarranted interruption brings a smile to his face. Just like old times. Ash wouldn't change anything about today.

There's just something that's been bothering him. He can't quite name it, he only knows it happens whenever Misty is near him. Like an itch inside his chest that's impossible to scratch.

His heart jumps when he hears the back door creak open, expecting his mother to scold him any second for being up so late.

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

Not his mom. Misty.

His heart jumps regardless.

Her hair is down and she's in pajamas and Ash hates that the first thought that springs to mind is "cute."

She makes him scoot over to make room for her on the porch steps, and he scoots a little bit further when her sleeve brushes against his.

"So, ready to lose against me tomorrow?"

Ash snorts. "You wish. I'm a lot stronger than I was before we parted ways, you know. Like, really strong. And smarter."

He realizes too late that saying he's smarter makes him sound anything but.

Misty makes a noise through her nose. "Well, at least you haven't gotten dumber. You're still scrawny, though."

"Hey!"

Misty laughs, and despite that it's at his expense, Ash really likes hearing it.

A short period of silence passes between them, and though he wouldn't call it entirely awkward, Ash feels like there's something suspended between them that one of them needs to reach out for and tether to the ground.

"So, how come you're up this late?"

Misty's profile looks contemplative as she gazes at the sky. "Lately I haven't been sleeping much. I think it's the pressure of running a gym practically all by myself. You'd think that wear me out but it's been keeping me up. I slept better on the dirt when we were traveling together than I do in my own bed."

Ash remembers those days. He no longer has to sleep in a sleeping bag either, and he definitely doesn't miss the feel of the ground pressing roughly against his back nor the bug bites that made welts on his skin. But he does miss the sight of the open skies. He misses the whispers of air through the trees and the late-night conversations with his friends, most of those conversations between him and Misty.

Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, it would feel similar to how it feels now, the space between them filled with unvoiced, confused thoughts and feelings that remain unidentified.

"To help me sleep, know what I do?" Misty asks, cutting through his thoughts.

"What?"

"Go for a swim."

***

His feet are balanced on either side of Misty's bike as she pedals them miles away from his house to a place he hasn't seen in what feels like forever ago.

The sound of water falling and crashing on to heavy rocks fills his ears and soon enough he sees the river where they first met.

More accurately, it's the river he nearly drowned in and where Misty quite literally fished him out of, and despite that morbid backstory Ash still feels a sort of weird, nostalgic fondness as he nears the current.

Had he not jumped into this river he and Pikachu might have died, anyway. Torn to shreds by angry Spearow.

Sometimes he wonders if he didn't actually die that day and his corpse is currently entombed in those waters, if everything he's experienced since then have been dreams or the afterlife or his spirit carrying on the adventures he was meant to have in life.

He has had a pretty intense and somewhat surreal life, and it's sometimes hard to believe that some of the crazy things he's been through actually happened.

Whether he's dead or alive doesn't matter right now because the red-hot alarm surging through his body as he catches Misty unbuttoning the top part of her pajamas feels very, very real.

"Wait a minute! Hold on." He already has his eyes covered with his hand as he spins around to avoid seeing the rest.

"You're- you're being ridiculous," Misty yells, but doesn't protest his modesty any further as she presumably finishes stripping down to her bathing suit.

He knows that she has a tendency to fly out of her regular clothes and dive into the nearest body of water in her bikini whenever the mood strikes her. In fact, he knows she did so earlier with Lana because they told him about their swimming adventure right after they met up again.

But this... This is different. They're alone, in the middle of nowhere, during the dead at night, and nobody knows they're here.

It's a situation that his mother would call inappropriate, and it's got his nerves alert and on edge.

He hears a wet splash and a satisfied exhale, and then he hears her say, "Okay. You can look now."

From the shoulders down Misty is submerged in dark, silver liquid, looking up at him expectantly from below her dripping bangs.

Ash swallows. "Ummm..."

"Oh. Right." She gives him the courtesy of covering her eyes as he strips down to his boxers. The air has more of a bite to it out here, but before Ash can have any more second thoughts, he lets out a battle cry and cannonballs into the water.

His early anxiety seems to wash away with the steady current, and soon his muscles ease and relax into the cool water.

"So. You really caught the Gyrados that was in here?"

The same Gyrados that he saw when he dove to escape a flock of riled Spearow.

"Yep. I've caught a good number of high-level Pokémon here."

"Impressive," he admits. Before he allows his compliment to settle into her brain and further inflate her ego, he splashes her with water and yells, "Race you over to that rock!"

Even though he cheats with a head start and has improved as a swimmer, Misty still beats him to it.

She's already waiting for him on the large rock jutting out from the surface of the water, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

"Just the first taste of the defeat you'll feel tomorrow."

He means to retort with something as equally snarky, but he's short on breath and his pulse is beating rapidly, not showing any signs of slowing as he looks up at Misty.

The moonlight frames her with a soft, white glow and the beads of water on her skin seem to shimmer where the light hits them. His eyes chase a rivulet down its trajectory from her cheek to her chin before it falls and coalesces with the river.

He's captivated, and doesn't realize it until it's too late. She's noticed.

"Um, we should get back," he says, trying to keep his voice from croaking.

"Right," she agrees, coming down from the rock to follow him back to land.

As they swim wordlessly back towards where they've left their pajamas like candy discarded wrappers, Ash remembers something important he's been meaning to say to her since they returned to this river.

"Hey, Mist," he begins, pausing from emerging from the water to look her in the eyes. "I never actually said thank you for saving mine and Pikachu's lives. So, uh, thank you. A lot." Smooth.

Her smile is soft, with a hint of amusement in it that makes Ash's pulse stutter once again.

"You're welcome. But you know," she continues, her lips pulling wider from a smile to a grin. He inhales sharply as Misty draws closer, so close he can see a tinge of red drowning out the light freckles across her nose. "A more proper way to thank me is with a kiss."

Ash might as well be drowning right because he's completely robbed of air and in borderline panic as Misty parts her lips and inches ever closer to him.

He shuts his eyes, expecting to feel a press against his lips any moment now. Instead, he feels a light tap on his forehead.

"Just kidding," she says, sending his soul careening back into his body.

Misty may have saved his skin back then but just now she nearly claimed his life.

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

Harry Potter and the Seven Owls... and That One Preening Peacock

So, me and Anna ( @starshaping​) were bored one day on skype, and opened a shared google doc, and this was what happened =)

It’s our first time collaborating, and really we were just playing around, but we had fun =)

Anna wrote Harry’s dialogue and actions, and I wrote Draco’s.

Harry Potter and the Seven Owls... and That One Preening Peacock

2.1k | Mature | AO3

The scene: Draco is sitting in an ornate, poncy looking chair, while Harry is shirtless and sitting amongst a pile of metal rods, bars, screws and other materials in the centre of the room.

“For fuck’s sake, Potter. You’re doing it wrong!” Draco sneered, as he put down his teacup and saucer down on the side table.

“Fuck you, I’m not! That’s what the bloody instructions say to do,” Harry grumbled, glancing away from the instructions long enough to glower at Draco.

“Well, then the instructions are wrong, and written by imbeciles who know nothing. I’m telling you, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Do you think you can do it better then? Go ahead!”

“If you think for one second that I’m touching that metal monstrosity, you are ever dumber than you look. And you look like a stupid peasant. Did you even try today? Half of your hair is sticking up, it has been since breakfast. Did I mention?” His fingers itched with the urge to fix it, as they had been all day.

But touching Harry’s hair often resulted in them losing the day, and getting nothing productive done. Besides, fixing Harry’s hair meant he couldn't laugh at him about it. He did so love to laugh at him.

“No, but thanks for that,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Stop being a whiny arsehole and just do it, if you’re so sure that you’re more capable.”

Draco fixed him with a sneer. “Malfoys don’t build things, Potter. We hire others to do it for us. That’s the whole point of having money.” Draco had thought they’d resolved this, the last time Harry had wanted to change something about the house. “You have a somewhat acceptable fortune yourself. You should know this by now.”

“I build things myself, prat. As you well know, since there’s that nice desk over there that you like to... You know...” He coughed pointedly, and tugged at his ear.

Draco smirked. The ear tug. That was the most ridiculous habit Harry had, and Draco loved to pretend he had no idea what it meant.

“No, Potter, I do not know. You’re going to have to be more specific. I don’t speak idiot.”

“You know what, Malfoy? I should leave you to do this yourself. You’re capable, so you say.”

Draco snorted, and added that to the mental tally of all the times he’d got one over on Harry. Making him show how difficult he found talking about sex, outside of sex itself at least, absolutely counted. Anyone would think he was a prude. It was hilarious. Harry Potter was no prude.

“Capable of calling someone to come and make it for me, sure,” he admitted easily. “I don’t see why we need such an elaborate bloody enclosure for all your fucking owls. Just get rid of the owls. I mean, really. Do people not coordinate gifts anymore? Did no one check to see if anyone else had had that fascinatingly unique idea of getting you a replacement owl, after you finally admitted that you might, might, be ready?”

Absolutely ridiculous. They were all idiots. Even three owls would have been too many.

“You leave me and my seven owls alone, you arsehole. They did nothing to you!” That was a lie, and they both knew it. At least two of them were vicious little beasts.

“Verity nearly ripped off my fucking earlobe! Jingle, and who the fuck thought it was appropriate to name an owl Jingle anyway, left a fucking scar on my wrist!” Draco exclaimed, making an angry gesture towards the little white mark on the inside of his right wrist. “Your owls are a fucking nightmare, and they must be contained or gotten rid of. Hurry the fuck up and use what small amount of initiative you must have to figure the damn thing out!”

“First of all, Maven likes you! He’s a sweetheart.” Harry paused, and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Though, you’re right, a few of them are quite mean.”

Draco snorted, feeling smug.

“Second of all, Andromeda let Teddy name Jingle, and Teddy is a child, so you can’t judge him for that. I’m sure Jingle makes absolute sense as a name, to a child. Stop being an arse! This is never going to get done if you don’t have some common decency and stop insulting me. It’s distracting.”

“Fuck decency. I’ll speak to you how I fucking like! You didn’t start dating me because I’m some simpering, hero worshipping trollop who’ll never have a harsh word to say.” And thank Merlin for that, because even while in love, Harry did more things to irritate him than anything else, even if it was more of a fond irritation now. He’d have gone mad if he couldn’t taunt him about it.  

Draco uncrossed his legs, and then re-crossed them the other way, leaning back in his chair, and making that hand gesture he knew irritated Harry.

“Fuck your stupid owls. Except Maven. You’re right, I like Maven. And fuck your incompetency with this gigantic fucking enclosure. Fuck your stupid pride, and your inability to let the men who delivered it construct, like they fucking offered, for free. And fuck your stupid fucking hair! Flatten that side of it before I grab it and bend you over your fucking desk!”

Sucking in a deep breath, he glared at the offending hair. It was distracting him from his annoyance. His favourite thing about Harry’s hair was how resilient it was to being pulled, and how much Harry seemed to like it, but now wasn’t the time. He did not want that metal monstrosity to remain unfinished for any longer than necessary. It would be an eyesore when completed, but it was even worse now.

“You’re really pretty when you’re angry. Did I ever tell you that? And just because you said that, I want to fuck up the rest of my hair.”

Draco scowled. “You are a contrary wanker, Potter! And of course I’m pretty when I’m angry, it’s about fucking time you noticed.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“You’re pretty all the time, but I can’t tell you that as often as I think it because your ego is already the size of Hogwarts. Can’t inflate that pretty head any more, now can we?”

Against his will, Draco felt his cheeks flush with warmth. That wanker.

“Cut it out! You can’t flatter me into helping you with that stupid enclosure. I wanted them to construct it, like they offered. You’re the stupid twat that said you could handle it.” Ever the prideful Gryffindor. Idiot. And Draco even more so for not insisting the delivery men do it for them. “And if we’re talking egos, you’re a fucking hypocrite, Mr. Saviour of the Wizarding World, Sexiest Wizard however many years in a row it’s been. Preening like a fucking parrot whenever someone brings it up.”

“I preen whenever you say it, arsehole. I spend the rest of my time trying to melt into the shadows. I cannot believe you actually think I preen. That’s you! You preen every time I call you pretty! Or when anyone else does, for that matter. Now please help me with this stupid enclosure.”

“I’m a Malfoy, I was born to preen. It’s expected of me.”

And so amusing to watch Harry go through the stages of annoyance over it, attempting to ignore it, and then watching with fondness, before Draco did something to make him cycle back to annoyance. It was high class entertainment.

“You’re pathetic for cowering in the shadows, by the way,” he added, looking him up and down. It did no one good to hide that body from the world. “I wish you did preen more often. Your wasting those chest muscles you’ve been building lately, don’t think I haven’t noticed them. And no, I will not help. I told you that you couldn’t set it up on your own. Owl the company back, and get them to send someone, like any intelligent person would.”

“Shut up. I just don’t want to be out of shape by the time I’m thirty, you preening peacock. And why don’t you call them, since you’re so insistent on not helping me? Stop insulting my intelligence!”

Draco snorted. “What intelligence? I see none,” he sneered. The peacock joke. How tired. That had stopped annoying him a long time ago. Harry needed new material. “If I ruffle my feathers at you, will you stop being a stubborn git and owl them? You’re the one who made the purchase, it has to be you. Idiot.”

“You’re a prick. Of the highest degree. Why do I like you again? Oh, that’s right. Because… You know what? I’ll just call them tomorrow. Later today. Fuck, what time is it?”

Draco checked his pocket watch, and looked mournfully at his empty teacup. Why was he still watching this idiot try to construct this? Teasing him while he cursed and got annoyed was amusing. Watching him work was always nice too. Still, he should have gone to bed hours ago and left the stupid prat to it.

“It’s two in the morning, but don’t stop there. Why do you like me, Potter? Do tell. I’ve been watching you struggle with this for fuck knows how many hours, comforted only by you removing your shirt early into proceedings, and by how fucking perfect your arse looks in those trousers. And now you’re admitting I’m right?” That always sent a shiver through him. Every time Harry admitted he was right, it was like he was laying hands on him, and Draco immediately flushed with heat. “Careful, we might not make it somewhere more comfortable, and if we have a shag in here, you’re bound to hurt yourself on all those materials that are lying around now.”

There was the desk, and he did so love a fuck on or over that desk, it was a gorgeous desk, but Harry had managed to cover it in parts for the enclosure as well. If Draco found scratches on that beautiful dark wood, he’d kick the git’s arse.

“You know why I like you, I’m not going to feed your ego by telling you. But my arse does look pretty good in these trousers, doesn’t it?” Harry twisted around, trying to get a look at his own arse, before suddenly freezing. “Wait, it’s two in the morning? Where the hell did the time go?”

Draco couldn't help but snort again. Harry’s idiocy was most endearing, and endlessly amusing. And the stubborn set of his mouth, accompanied by the flush to his cheeks was most arousing. Harry wanted him, he’d been wanting him for a couple of hours now, only delayed by trying to finish the stupid enclosure. The signs were obvious. The more Draco had taunted him while he’d worked, the more Harry had wanted him. Draco had been greatly enjoying his struggle to stay on task.

“The time went into you trying and failing to construct a hideous owl enclosure for your demon owls that are, no doubt, at this very moment, tearing the basement to pieces. But yes, your arse is fantastic, I refuse to even pretend I didn’t mean that. Why don’t you lose the trousers, and I’ll give it some more lasting compliments.”

“Are you teasing me right now? Because if you’re teasing me, I’m going to punch you. Or something.”

“Potter, it’s only teasing if I don’t follow through. When have I ever failed to follow through? I may tease you for a while, or for hours, until you’re begging, and that begging slowly becomes incoherent. But I always follow through... eventually.”

If it wasn’t so late, several hours of teasing sounded fantastic, in fact. He loved nothing more than reducing Harry to an incoherent, begging mess. Even better for the stages of cursing and swearing that preceded the begging.

“Great, now I’m turned on. See what you did? Arsehole. Poncy git. Fuck you. I’m mad at you.”

Draco drank in the sight of him, red-faced, chest heaving as his breathing quickened, and that defiant posture of his.

“Excellent, how about you come over here and do something about it?” Draco uncrossed his legs again, and spread them, leaning back and slouching slightly in his chair. “Or are you the tease now?”

“Fuck yes, I’ve been wanting to break in that chair with you for the past few hours. Let me just… Wait. Fuck, it’s two am! The owls! I forgot to feed the owls!”

“What?”

Harry didn’t respond, as he grabbed his discarded shirt, and left the room without looking back.

“They can…” But Harry was gone, and Draco growled and got to his feet, crossing to the open doorway to yell after him, “Are you serious? Fuck the owls! Get your arse back here you fucking tease!”

Leave us a comment on AO3?

[musicprincess655]

A few weeks ago…

Rei always loved the first day of practice. There wasn’t a single other day that could really compare to the energy. Bright, hopeful, apprehensive. It felt like starting on a long journey, and as someone who had spent a good portion of her life away from home, Rei could appreciate a journey that even she didn’t know the destination of.

She could see a lot of potential in the newcomers. There was Toujou Hideaki, who’d already earned their attention in high school. Rei hadn’t even had to scout him herself – the school had expressed interest. There was a tall boy with black hair that Rei knew wasn’t here on a sports scholarship. He must be a walk on, after passing the entrance exam. Most of those were disappointing, but every so often they surprised her, and she could sense something special about this boy.

And then there was Sawamura. Rei really did have high hopes for him. Despite a complete lack of training, he’d done something amazing when trying to protect someone. That was a quality that couldn’t be taught, and Rei didn’t see any reason why he couldn’t become a good ace, if given the chance to learn.

He hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best start, showing up late to practice. It wasn’t entirely his fault – his flatmate had left him behind, and when he’d asked Kuramochi for directions, Kuramochi had sent him in the wrong direction, not believing that Sawamura was actually on the team. Then Miyuki had made everything worse, trying to use Sawamura as a cover to slip in late as well. All four of them had been running for most of practice.

Rei pinched her nose. Kuramochi could be forgiven, even if considered a little dumber, but Masuko and Miyuki had no excuses. Not that Sawamura had made anything better for himself, declaring his intention to be the ace instead of apologizing, like any rational person would have. Tesshin hadn’t looked at her once, but she could feel his judgmental look from across the field.

This is the one you were excited about?

And, okay, maybe she’d expected a little more from Sawamura. Between the brief interaction she’d had with him and his grades, she’d expected him to have the sense he was born with, although she was starting to doubt he’d been born with any.

She’d kind of stuck her neck out for Sawamura. By the time she’d extended the offer, applications had already closed for the freshman class. He wasn’t exactly a model student, running solidly middle of the pack, and he had absolutely no magic schooling, being from a non-magic village. She’d had to call in most of the favors she was owed by everyone in the administrative side of the school, and she’d probably be in some hot water if he didn’t show results.

So, yes, she’d had high hopes for Sawamura’s first day, and they hadn’t really come true. But Sawamura had had one moment of brilliance at the end, almost perfectly completing the challenge Tesshin had set him, although he’d faltered a bit at the end. His long range attack hadn’t made it to the other side of the field, curving away from the path. Still, if it had gone straight, it would’ve succeeded.

All in all, not what she’d been hoping for, but also not a complete wash. She tried to remind herself that Sawamura would get better with practice, and that while his attitude was a little immature, it wasn’t a bad attitude. He was just as loud and bright as he’d been when he showed up, and Rei figured he’d be fine.

“What do you think of the new team?” Tesshin asked her. They were lazing around their living room, eating straight out of takeout boxes, both too lazy to cook after the first day of practice.

“We didn’t lose much strength with the graduating seniors, and the new members look promising,” Rei said. “I’d say, depending on how the team comes together, we could have a good chance of beating Inashiro.”

“That would be nice,” Tesshin said. They’d been losing to the private school for the last six years, and it was starting to really grate on them, and on the school. They really needed a win.

“I’d recommend putting Toujou in Jun’s old position,” Rei said. “He’s young, but he’s been a starter for a while. I think he can handle it.”

“I agree,” Tesshin said. “Yamaguchi is doing well at first base, but I think Kanemaru could do just as well with some practice.”

“He’ll take some work to hit as hard as Yamaguchi, but he shows some promise.”

“What do you think about the ace situation?”

Rei grimaced. It was what she most wanted to discuss, but also what she was dreading.

“Kawakami is still a reliable closer,” she started, deciding to list the positives first. “I’m not sure how he would do for a full game, but he hasn’t lost his edge for the late game. Tanba has recovered nicely, but I worry about him. He worked much better with Chris than he does with Miyuki.”

“They’ll figure it out,” Tesshin said. “I’ve never seen Miyuki fail to work with anyone, and I’ll speak to Tanba if it becomes a problem.”

Rei nodded, but decided it was time to directly state the real problem they were both dancing around.

“We don’t have an absolute ace anymore,” she said. “Tanba isn’t back to where I hoped he would be after the break. Maybe he’ll recover now that practice is back in swing, but there’s a good chance he won’t. Kawakami can defend well, but he can’t attack like we need for the early game. That’s it for returners, at least for starting aces.”

“You have some thoughts about that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she said. “Furuya was a pleasant surprise. He’s got quite a bit of power. His stamina concerns me, as does his control. He wore himself out so quickly, he’ll never last through a game like that.”

“That will improve with time,” Tesshin pointed out. “But you’re right, he can’t carry the whole game as he is now.”

“Sawamura showed some potential as well,” Rei pointed out. At the look her husband gave her, she hurried on. “I know he was far from perfect! But he paced himself better than Furuya, and with some training, he already showed that he can do long range attacks like Furuya. He’s at least worth a look.”

“I was thinking of making him a fielder, actually,” Tesshin said. “With some training, he could still use that ranged attack, and as a nature witch, he’s much more suited to wider defense like that instead of close combat.”

Rei pushed her glasses up her nose to hide her expression.

“I think he’d be wasted as a fielder,” she said. “You didn’t see him, but he really does have something special when he’s protecting something directly. And he worked well with Miyuki when he visited. I’ve never seen someone work so well with a new familiar like that.”

Tesshin stared at her for a while.

“You’re determined about this?” he asked. “Because you actually think he can do it, not because you’re worried about your position with the administrators if he doesn’t do well?”

“I wouldn’t have stuck my neck out like that if I didn’t think he was worth it,” she huffed. Really, after being married for almost ten years, Tesshin should know her better than that. “Give him a chance. I think he’ll surprise you. He surprised me.”

Tesshin considered.

“I’ll pair him with Chris,” he said finally. “If there’s any true potential in him, Chris will draw it out. For now, though, I’d like to experiment with a relay between Tanba, Furuya, and Kawakami. Until Tanba recovers fully, it might be better to pair him with Miyauchi, and since Miyauchi is actually Kawakami’s partner, that will be a better battery than Miyuki and Kawakami.”

“For the first few practice battles, I agree,” Rei said. Much as she wanted Sawamura to prove himself as quickly as possible, there was no way he should be in a battle so soon. She was even leery of using Furuya now. She’d prefer to just use Kawakami and Tanba until the end of camp, when they’d really see the abilities of everyone.

“At least we don’t have to replace many of the fielders or strikers,” Tesshin commented. “I do hope we can find an appropriate center striker, though. Kuramochi really does need a better partner.”

Rei winced. Last year’s center striker, a senior, hadn’t exactly been the best player, but he was the best one they’d had. Still, to say he and Kuramochi hadn’t seen eye to eye would be an understatement. They’d had one of the worst partnerships she’d ever seen, and she knew Kuramochi wasn’t the problem, considering he worked with everyone else just fine.

The problem was, they really didn’t have anyone who seemed up to the task. It wasn’t that they didn’t have a single person who played center striker. It was more that none of them could keep up with Kuramochi. He was fast, and he was good, one of the best Rei had ever seen, and she was particularly proud of that scouting effort of hers. There was only so much he could slow himself down before he was compromising his position, too.

“Chris can’t come back, can he?” Rei asked. Tesshin shook his head.

“He’d rather be careful, and I agree with his wishes,” Tesshin said. “He needs to heal completely, and only time will do that. I think he’d be alright for light practice, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. He won’t try to come back before he’s ready. He knows the costs.”

Rei nodded.

“I think I’ll move Furuya up to first string,” Tesshin went on. “There’s not a single person in the freshmen that can handle his power level. If we’re going to use him in the battle with another school soon, he needs as much practice with Miyuki as he can get. Sawamura can stay on the second string with Chris. I’ll consider moving him up if he does well at camp.”

It wasn’t what Rei had been hoping for, but it could turn out to be a good thing. She smiled quietly to herself. Sawamura and Chris would either get on like a house on fire or set each other on fire. If Sawamura could learn to hold his tongue, Chris had a lot to teach him, and maybe some of Sawamura’s smiles would leak over to Chris. Rei hadn’t seen him really smile since that terrifying day last year.

This year was going to be interesting, that was certain.

[ispast-blog]

Last Promise - taekook!gang fanfiction

Chapter I

Taehyung was tired,

no he was exhausted.

There is not a day in his life where he likes or enjoys his job, no he hates it very much, so bad it makes his blood boil.

Groaning he gets up, observing the city beneath his eyes. Seoul this obnoxious city, it looks decent, elegant and busy like New York, London or Tokiyo, the only difference is that Seoul likes to hide it's own dirt. There is nothing normal about this city, hell no. The porcelain looking idols may look clueless but they know, everyone knows what goes around in this cursed city.

Unfortunately Taehyung knows it too, he is the bad part of the city, many people fear him, as cliché that sounds, everyone fears him, even he fears himself but he doesn't let it show. He can say he is a closed person, he doesn't open up to anyone and isn't planning to ever do.

He wanted to shout when he heard duty calling him, clock shows 5 am in the morning, the sun started to rise but he didin't get a minute of sleep, no matter how tiredhe is, he can't sleep. In fact he doesn't want to, he is scared to close his eyes and let the darkness take him and to dream about the things his mind comes up with.

He picked up the phone which never stopped ringing and answered it with "What now Namjoon?" the man on the other line said "I keep forgetting you are not a morning person." Taehyung heard Namjoon snort on another line .

"How could you forget that, stop with all of this morning chit chatting and care to tell me what do we have to do today or are you going to wish me a good morning too?" Taehyung replied with a head ache bigger than Namjoon himself.

Namjoon on the other hand almost laughed at that, or he did laugh Taehyung couldn't tell.

"Good morning my ass, it never is truly good is it?" Namjoon didin't forget to add "at least not for us."

Taehyung took his words in, he was right, he always is and gave him a honest answer "I know hyung, now get to the point before I lose my god damn mind 'kay?" he was getting impatient as every second went by.

"Okay okay, It's pretty serious. Someone tried to fuck us up" Namjoon voice got angrier, if he gets angry than Taehyung knows it is a big deal.

All he could do is groan and proceed to answer with "Tried or did Namjoon?" he waited for at least thirty seconds for an answer but he didin't get any so he knew what was up, of course he knew. Taehyung hung up and already knew where he needed to go, I mean he was heading there one way or another.

He went straight to his elevator, which was connected to his huge wherehouse .

Taehyung pushed the button, it lead him to the first floor. He spared no glances to his bodyguards, who wouldn't give a damn about if he died right now in this moment.

Lee Haroyung, his daddy's ex personal assistant or whatever he was to him greeted him by wishing him a good morning, how ironic. Namjoon was right, he always is, there is no such things as good mornings neither to Taehyung and neither to Haroyung .

"Good morning, sir Kim." he said.

Taehyung still wished him a some type of morning back even though both of them were lying trough their teeth "Morning Lee". There was no point in putting a good in there.

He arrived at his car, he wanted to drive it himself but no, I guess when you are rich and important you can't do that.

The random man whom Taehyung never cared to look at or even remember his name, he is not good at remembering strangers names he just isn't opened the door to let him sit in the backseat. This will be a ten minute long drive, that is long for him. He is wasting his ten minutes of life by just sitting there and doing nothing.

He wished he could fucking fly, how stupid that is? Taehyung isn't even normal anymore. He is talking about some farytails. Farytails are so dumb, even dumber than Seokjin's jokes, who are more embarrassing than funny.

After wasting ten minutes of his "precious" life, they arrived. No he arrived beacuse the driver doesn't matter, he just doesn't.

Taehyung got out of the car and fixed his suit. He walked faster than he should, he just wants this day to end so he can stare at the ceiling in the middle of the night or to stare at this city. Does it ever sleep? Taehyung wonders but it hits him, no it doesn't, just like him .

Seoul and Taehyung have many things in common, they never sleep and they are both horrific. He wishes he could just destroy this city, if he doesn't it will destroy him, Technically it is already doing that.

He arrived at his destination and looked up at the big sign written over a huge building "Kim's Empire" he whispered it to himself because he is losing his mind.

It belongs to him and what is left of his family. His father is dead so he is the one ruling it, just like everywhere the empire goes to the son.

Taehyung wished it didin't, he wishes he didin't have to do this but part of him still enjoyed it, wishes that killing people didin't make him feel good or satisfied and after it is all done it haunts him at night. Just like a drug it feels good as long it lasts, but after it suffocates and kills you.

He opened the door and was greeted with a whole Kim Namjoon, a so called friend of his.

"Namjoon who and how did someone fuck us up?" Taehyung asked immediately

"Someone who's name we don't have with us right now, but we know there is a leader who gave them orders and he is our biggest worry and we need to find him real fast." Namjoon started to walk around the room, obviously thinking hard and using that brain of his. He proceeded with something Taehyung wished he didin't have to hear. "Taehyung they stole a $5 million worth drugs, they destroyed four of our biggest money making clubs in China and they killed two of our biggest costumers and the weirdest thing all of this happened at the same time. It was midnight none of the attacks were late not even for a second for fuck's sake!"

Taehyung really wished he got some sleep today, he really did.

Namjoon continued "Something bad happened and it is going to happen again, we need to work hard and find out who did this. That seems impossible for now, we will visit the places I already called Hoseok."

Taehyung felt mad, of course he did how couldn't he, even Namjoon a very calm man was feeling the same he tried to hide it but bullshit he saw right trough him.

He on the other hand isn't as good as Namjoon to hide his madness. "I don't care how we will find that piece of shit but we will and i swear to that fucking god up there i will kill him in a way i never killed someone before!"

Silence,

silence followed after that.

It was very cruel of him to say that he will kill that person in a way he never did before. He remembers the way he killed one person, his worst murder which still haunts him.

Namjoon didin't respond to that but he rather sighed and rubbed his temple

"Come on Hoseok is waiting for us."

Both of them made their way to the exit, both of them didin't say a word trough the long car drive. Taehyung complained about a ten minute drive but this one took a whole hour and a half.

He hated it, but what needs to be done needs to be done.

Entering their old wherehouse where there used to be drugs but now are obviously stolen. Hoseok crunched down looking for something that will help them and lead them closer to this unknown person.

"Well hello there my men, what a hard day today is, isn't it" Hoseok as cheerful as always greeted them.

"All the hello's to you too Hoseok, what do we have here?" Namjoon politely but still rudely asked.

"Lucky that you have me since my smart ass already has something." Hoseok said it as proud as always.

The world will never deserve someone as amazing as Hoseok. Taehyung is glad he has him since he is useful as always.

"Give it to us Hoseok and if it is good i will fucking treat you as a god." Namjoon is being weird today what has gotten into him, he usually doesn'y say dumb things like this.

"We do have a lead and a big one, those fucking idiots left a shoe behind them, yes a fucking shoe." Hoseok was laughing at them at how could they leave a shoe behind them.

Taehyung grew ever more tired.

What was Hoseok on about?

Could that help them?

It could help them very much but far as Taehyung knows the fucking shoe could be from anyone, maybe one from his own men.

It sounds ridiculous, a shoe.

They left a shoe behind.

"Taehyung I can see you having a whole ass breakdown in your head and no, shoe is useful it is from them, it wasn't here yesterday when your men were here to deliver the drugs, it was here after the goods were stolen and you know i can find everything from little shit like from a small rock so the shoe is the lead, a good one it belongs to one who stole or at least helped stealing the $5 million worth drugs, thank me later will you." Hoseok seemed confident with this, his body language gave it away and his own bragging words obviously.

Taehyung trusts Hoseok.

The shoe may be useful.

It better be or he will choke Hoseok for wasting their time on the shoe.

"Okay good news, we have found a shoe what now? Namjoon moved around the place checking the area where the drugs used to be.

"I will get into it, in my own place of course it may take some time, a week or so, depends." Hoseok seemed excited about this, he loves his work unlike Taehyung.

He remembers when Hoseok told him he wanted to work for FBI, he told him he wanted to be known as Sherlock. Hoseok didin't deserve to end up in the underground, the bad side of the city. He deserved better but still he is grateful for Taehyung beacuse he offered him this job, he really shouldn't be.

Hoseok wanted to help people but now he is helping him find people so Taehyung could destroy and kill them.

Taehyung remembered something, he felt stupid for not asking it before. Perhaps he is that stupid.

"The security cameras, is there anything?" Taehyung is so tired, he wishes he could get some decent sleep.

Namjoon stopped what he was doing and looked up to Hoseok, waiting for an answer

"Of fucking course we checked them, if we found something useful that would have been the first thing i told you fools. They obviously took care of that, any smart person would. You two don't seem okay, is something up? Taehyung you look dead as always and our smart and calm Namjoon is opposite of that"

Something was up with Namjoon and both Taehyung and Hoseok knew that. Must be a bad day or something else, he would ask him what is wrong but they have to deal with way more important things. It's not like that matters, if you have a bad day or bad life nobody cares. Taehyung knows that better then anyone else.

Unfortunately for him the day is far away from ending, himm and Namjoon have to visit Yoongi,Jimin and Seokjin next.

They got out of the hideout where the drugs used to be but are now gone and stolen.

The fact that $5 million worth drugs were stolen makes him pissed but that's not why he is mad, no he is mad about the fact that someone had the audacity to attack him like that. All at the same time, midnight, not one was a second late.

Taehyung knew this wasn't done for fun, it was a start to something he doesn't want to go trough so they better get this done before the enemies strike again.

Hoseok was the first to say his goodbye's to him and Namjoon. Walking away obviously excited to work on that shoe. "Goodbye see you in a week freaks." He proceed to walk-jump to his own car.

"Who to now Taehyung?" Namjoon asked

"We have to pay a visit to Jimin, Yoongi and Seokjin and after that we can hope that will be all for today." Namjoon unlocked his car and got in waiting for him to join.

Taehyung followed right after and gave his answer to Namjoon "Does it matter anyway? But I don't want to see Seokjin first that's for sure so Jimin or Yoongi it is." He prepered himself for another long ass drive, 40 minutes of his life is going trough a waste in this moment of speaking.

Namjoon turned on a radio and a Lana Del Rey song was playing, Taehyung doesn't understand a thing she is saying but he likes it either way. Every human listens to music and you can't deny that, he might be a gangster but he will still listen to music, he loves aesthetic things and Lana Del Rey music is that, makes him feel calm.

Namjoon pulled up to Yoongi's place and got out of his Lykan HyperSport car, again waiting Taehyung to join.

Taehyung wanted a smoke, no he needed a one so he lighted up his cigarette. "You want one?" He asked Namjoon.

Taehyung got one more cigarette out and handed it to Namjoon who put it inside of his mouth. Taehyung then lighted it up for him.

"You know Taehyung, that this is just a start, that there will be something way worse happening anytime and we don't know when. I hate that feeling, not being one step or even a few steps ahead, the only leads we have is the shoe. We can fly to China with Hoseok so we can look for some sings there too. I already contacted our men there and they found nothing but bodies." How did Taehyung forget to do that? Probably from the lack of sleep he is getting. Namjoon is the smart one, he is the one who does those things before him that's why he needs him.They have been friends for a long time, if he could call it friendship, Taehyung doesn't know, he hasn't felt anything for a long time.

He didin't feel anything when he fucked guys so hard and fast that it hurt and bruised them. He gave them a pleasure but he didin't get any, they weren't right for him for some reason. They didin't know how to take him. He never felt comfortable with them calling him names, beacuse they didin't know how to. He bets they were straight dominant men but were gay and submissive for him only, that's what kind of impact he holds.

"I know Namjoon and I don't know what are we going to do about it. I just can't properly think since we have no lead just a shoe Hoseok found. How do we start this research when we have almost nothing, how are we going to end this?" Taehyung smoked what was left of his cigar.

"I would say don't worry about it we both know that is a lie, we should worry about this. Right now we will talk to Jimin, Yoongi and Jin and we will see if they can help and we can hope that Hoseok gets something out of that stupid shoe."

Namjoon himself finished his cigarette and tossed it to the floor and stepped over it.

Taehyung didin't respond, he had no energy to do that.

When they finished with their cigarettes who did nothing but led them closer to their own slowly deaths, they headed to Yoongi's apartment block.

They rang once and waited at least for a two minutes.

Another two minutes that went to waste, lovely.

Yoongi opened the door, hair messy and lips plump. "Well what are you two doing here, uninvited?" Yoongi fixed his hair but him and Namjoon ain't stupid he smelled like sex.

"Sorry to interrupt your sex time hyung but we really didin't think about calling you, I mean can you blame us you usually don't do shit you sleep around in your apartment and go to work that is your life, yes." Namjoon stepped inside even though Yoongi didin't say he could.

"Namjoon wait u-" Taehyung couldn't finish his sentence when he saw a whole Jimin with no shirt, looking like he had the best fuck of his life, barely walking on his small legs.

Then it all clicked,

Jimin and Yoongi.

Yes Yoongi and Jimin.

[benevolenterrancy]

@bitchycollectionfury-78be5e8b here ya go, thanks, this was fun to write ^-^ nice to write about people being dumber than you are to make yourself feel better

-

McCree was...

He was...

Well, he was definitely not panicking, that was what he was not doing, because Jesse McCree was one cool customer that could take things as they came and laugh it off.  He'd survived the foster care system and his weird adopted father and his overly intense adopted sister.  He'd survived losing his damn arm, alright, and everything that went down that made it necessary to bundle a young Jesse up and whisk him away to the houses of strangers rather than leave him at home.  And by the end, he'd survived everyone that had thought they could make judgment calls about him without even trying to get to know him, every teacher that had shaken their head and decided some idiots couldn't be helped, every classmate that had turned their nose up at his accent – a vestigial limb left over from a childhood in the south – or his manner of dress or his sense of humour.  After all, it hadn't been as bad as all that.  He'd wound up with a great family (he'd die for Gabe and Sombra), and plenty of friends.  He'd learnt to let people go.  Some people just would never see past his shaggy hair or his loud mouth or the cowboy hat he refused to “grow out of”.  Fuck 'em, that's what Jesse had learnt.  Shrug your shoulders, turn your back, and go find people that matter.  There had been a time when he couldn't do that.  There was a time when he'd been living back with his birth family that every disappointed look the teacher had sent him when he'd acted out in class had been like a slap and every report card returned home had been... well, not just like a slap.  There'd been a time when he'd hated everything about Gabriel Reyes, but mostly the fact that he was forcing him to confront a brand new school with people that stared and laughed and huddled among themselves in the cliques they'd formed years back, no space for a new, pushy, desperately loud kid.

Then things had changed.  Then he'd made friends, real friends, and found out what people could be like – what he could be like.  And suddenly the people turning their nose up didn't matter any more.

...R-ight.

And so that was why, as Jesse McCree sat in school library across from Hanzo Shimada, he definitely was not panicking at all.

Even if Hanzo Shimada was hot as sin, with long, dark hair cascading down his back, the most intense eyes Jesse has ever seen, and holy fuck those biceps.

The guy did archery apparently.  Archery. Who the fuck did archery unless they were preparing to run off in some goddamn fantasy movie?  Jesse had never even really given archery much thought as a thing people did – it only really existed in historical documentaries and the Olympics – but now when it was nearly thirty degrees outside and Hanzo Shimada was sitting two feet away from him in a tank top, Jesse was really, really thinking about archery.  And how it must take a lot of strength to constantly be drawing and holding a tense bowstring if you wanted to aim with any degree of accuracy.  And how that sort of strength made it look like your arms and shoulders had been carved from fucking marble.  Especially when one of said statuesque arms had a sleeve of vibrant, blue tattoos running all the way down it.  Jesse could get lost in a bicep like that, with or without blue dragons staring back at him, but the dragons definitely didn’t hurt.

The thing was though, it wasn't just that.  Jesse had met hot kids before that were out of his league and it generally didn't really trouble him.  Whatever, laugh it off, move on.  No, of course it had to be more complicated than that.  When Jesse had first entered this class he'd wound his way through the filling seats until he'd found himself sitting next to a boy whose name he would learn was Hanzo.  Jesse had then immediately had his smile met by a flat stare, and he'd figured, oh well, here was an uninteresting asshole.  A hot one, maybe, but an asshole all the same.  It hadn't seemed important at the time because he'd already turned to the person on his other side – a girl named Angela who apparently wanted to be a doctor (or a researcher...? Something like that, which involved more of the human body than Jesse wanted to think aobut).  She was friendly and laughed easily.

Everything would have been so much easier if Hanzo had just stayed an asshole. The guy was quiet, sure, but Jesse sat elbow-to-elbow with him three times a week and he slowly began to realize that underneath the prickly, don't-look-at-me-don't-speak-to-me aura the guy projected, there was something far sweeter down there.  The guy chuckled at every single one of the prof's bad jokes and Dr Winston had a lot of them, and they were always nonchalantly that most of the class didn't realize they'd happened... heck, Jesse usually didn't realize they'd happened until he heard a soft snort next to him.

(And yes, it was a snort. Absolutely and completely undignified and it made Jesse stare at Hanzo until he'd been glared back into submission by the man, who'd seemed flustered that someone had heard him.  How do you tell a guy that may or may not hate your guts just for existed that you thought his silly snort-laugh was cute?  The answer was you did not do that and focused back on your own notes if you value your life.)

As for Hanzo's notes, well, they were painfully neat and precise.  But amid the sharp ballpoint and careful diagrams, Hanzo Shimada apparently had a habit of making snide details about the lessons in the margins (Jesse knew this because it was a two hour long lecture and sometimes watching your neighbour writes notes out of the corner of your eye was better than trying to listen to a prof drone on at the front of the class for another hour and a half).  It made Jesse start fantasizing about taking out his own pen and writing a little comment in the corner of Hanzo's page.  Made him think about getting into some sort of stupid note-passing conversation with him like they were eight year olds rather than college kids.  Made him think about getting to have all those weird, witty little comments directed at him, and then seeing where the conversation took them.  (And, occasionally, it made him think about continuing that conversation out of class, possibly down towards a pub he knew for a chat and maybe, oh just maybe, a date.)

Jesse, however, did not dare try – to write the note, that is, entertaining anything else would have been madness.  Hanzo looked like the sort of person that might try to tear your head off if you messed up his notebooks.

Then, just to top it all off, during their lecture breaks, Hanzo often got calls from what Jesse could only assume was a brother.  And, against every expectation, Hanzo Shimada was sweet. Well, still a bit of a deadpan asshole, but no one who's a hundred percent bad uses his ten minutes of free time to talk with his brother every single day.

“Don't look at me, I am not playing wing-man for you in a class I need to ace if I wanna keep my GPA up,” Angela had said.  Jesse had pouted at that – he hadn't even gotten a chance to ask her, had just glanced at her with maybe a slightly-too-hopeful gleam in his eye during one of the breaks Hanzo had left the room to talk with his brother.

And then the fateful day of the class project had arrived.  Winston had told them just to group up with someone sitting beside them rather than running piecemeal through the class.  Jesse had, of course, turned to Angela only to find she had turned around in her seat and was quickly making plans to team up with a girl sitting behind them named Mei.

Frantically Jesse had spun around, but everyone else was making groups with the people to their left or right who they had been getting to know since day one.  With Angela breaking the system, that meant he had only one person left sitting next to him.

Hanzo Shimada was watching him with an unimpressed face and an eye brow raised.

Traitor, he mouthed at Angela.

You're welcome, mouthed Angela, the Stealth Wing-man.

And so here Jesse was, sitting in the library with someone who presumably hated his guts and thought he was – what, loud? Obnoxious? Lame? – but who Jesse still pathetically, wistfully wanted to impress.  Life, sometimes, was enormous unfair.  At this point Hanzo hadn't even given Jesse the time of day, he'd been sitting at one of the study tables since before Jesse had arrived, nose an inch from his phone as he texted someone.  Presumably someone cooler than Jesse McCree.

Jesse wanted to groan.  Or shove his pencil in his eye just so he could get out of this project.  Instead he mechanically started pulling out his books and waited for Hanzo to be ready to start on the project with him.

-

Hanzo Shimada: ... WELL??

Obnoxious Little Brother: oy give me a sec some of us are still in class and don't want our phone to be taken away again besides i'm trying to tell zen about how i, the lowly highschooler, am helping my university-bound brother pick up boys

Hanzo Shimada: Don't you DARE

Obnoxious Little Brother: too late he wishes you luck by the way and says he has complete faith in you goes to show which one of us  knows you better eh? not him!

Hanzo scowled down at his phone before he gaze flickered briefly up to the person who had sat across from him.  He'd been painfully aware of Jesse McCree since McCree had arrived in the library and pulled back the chair with a scrape that had made the hairs on the back of Hanzo's neck stand on end.  So far McCree had made no acknowledgment that there was another person at this table, another person he was going to be forced to work along side for the next two weeks.

Hanzo didn't know whether Zenyatta had faith in him or if Genji had just been trying to wind him up, but Hanzo certainly did not have faith in himself, not about this.  He had never been good at... people. He made, in Genji's words, “seriously just the worst first impressions.  Like wow.  So bad,” which just wasn't fair because when it came to a professional setting, when it was about work or networking, he was fine.  He could move effortlessly through the crowds, introduce himself, chat, plan, negotiate.  He'd been dogging his father's footsteps since it had been decided he would one day take over the family business and he was a devoted student.  But as soon as it was real people in real life Hanzo may as well be carved out of wood; somehow he always managed to put his foot in his mouth.  Which was why he had fallen so low as to turn to his baby brother for advice, because at least Genji, if nothing else could be said about him, was good with people.

Too good with people, if you asked their father.  Genji was a social butterfly who wasn't so much a butterfly as a housefly, flitting about around everywhere and getting where at lot of people would probably wish he wasn't and really not caring who he chatted with or what they thought about him.

Obnoxious Little Brother: look, just don't do the Hanzo Special and you should be fine

Hanzo Shimada: Excuse me??

Obnoxious Little Brother: u kno, your patented Grunt & Growl ™ technique don't do that and assume other people can actually understand you bc they can't

Hanzo wanted to snap back that he did not grunt or growl, thank you, he was a mature adult unlike Genji, but he found his fingers hesitating on the keys.  Frantically he scanned his memory to figure out if he had grunted or growled at Jesse McCree.

God help him he probably had.  He had almost certainly stared stupidly at him.

McCree... glowed, though, and Hanzo wasn't sure what to do with that.  He spoke so easily.  All it had taken was one glance from McCree on the first day of class for him to apparently decide that Hanzo was a lost cause.  Before Hanzo had managed to scrounge up a single coherent, reasonable thing to say to the sunshine bright, smiling boy who'd sat down next to him, said boy had turned his attentions to the much more receptive form of Angela Ziegler, the girl sitting to his right.

McCree was loud and raucous and ridiculous and he wore the stupidest hat Hanzo had ever seen but god help him he wanted to see McCree smile at him, rather than catch glimpse of it from the corner of his eye while he laughed with someone else.  He wanted to have McCree attention at some point other than when he'd made a fool of himself with his ugly laugh or by seeing McCree stare judgmentally at his notes.

Obnoxious Little Brother: at the risk of sounding too much like a disney movie have you tried just.... being yourself??? (this was zen's suggestion btw i'm personally pretty sure being someone other than yourself would be a step in the right direction but you never know maybe disney knows whats up)

Hanzo thought about what McCree had looked like when they had been forced to choose partners.  He had wanted to be anywhere than with Hanzo. The look he had shot Ziegler when she had found a different partner... the helpless, defeated look when he had accepted that the only person nearby not taken was Hanzo.

No, being himself was definitely not going to help him here.

Hanzo Shimada: Never mind I'll figure it out

What he was going to do was pretend that Jesse McCree was just some other random student, keep his head down, get this project done with the least amount of fuss, and move on to his next set of class next semester and hopefully forget that McCree existed.

“Shall we get started?” he asked briskly, pocketing his phone and pulling out his own book.

McCree's face was despondent and it sat like a stone in Hanzo's gut.  He would rather be anywhere than here.

“Might as well,” said McCree.

[tomhollandish]

Peter: Culmination

Summary: The story of Peter and Y/N boil down to unsettled feelings and could’ve/should’ve/would’ve’s, until now. 

Word Count: 5,165

Warnings: cursing

It was supposed to be another Saturday in Queens.

Those were nothing new. Peter Parker usually spent his Saturdays being thrown towards buildings at breakneck speed, some villain high above cackling at his misfortune.

“Is that all you’ve got itsy bitsy spider?” Doctor Octopus sneered, his mechanical arms digging into the skyscraper adjacent to him. Peter swung on his web, landing feet first onto a balcony and perching there, rolling his eyes under his mask.

“If I had a dollar for every time one of you losers called me “itsy bitsy,” I’d be rich enough to retire from this—oh!” He ended with a shout as a panel of glass was flung his way. Kicking it away with ease, Doc Ock laughed. He was making his way back down to street level, where hordes of citizens screamed in panic and terror. The ground was littered with glass and rubble, most awnings ripped with heavy cement bricks falling through them. Peter grunted, wishing that Kinesis was here to help shield them from shrapnel, but the alien girl was nowhere to be found.

“You’re under the assumption that justice pays, Spider-ling,” the villain cackled, crushing cars beneath his mechanical legs. Peter watched him for a moment, calculating how best to take him down when he noticed the familiar purple sparkle of light.

“Lucky for us, crime does not pay either!”

The mech arms lifted from the ground, steadily at first and then WHAM! He was smashed, body first into the Oscorp building sign, sparks shooting from his enhancements. The arms went limp, taking the rest of him down, cracking the pavement as he fell into a smoking heap of rubble.

Peter balked, turning to face where he’d heard the shout. His mouth fixed into a grin, seeing Kinesis standing on a taxi for leverage. Cupping his hands, Peter yelled, “Glad you could make it!”

She shouted back, mirth in her tone. “The subway was late!”

A laugh almost left Peter’s mouth until he felt the ground rumble. From the smoking pile of scorched metal, an arm shot out, digging into the earth and pulling the rest of its body into the air. There was a growl as Doc Ock regained his footing.

“Your little sidekick has gotten stronger!” the villain cackled, watching as civilians scattered underneath him. Peter made quick work of scooping them up and depositing them to safety, while Kinesis gained his attention.

“Sidekick this!” she challenged, sending a boulder sailing through the air. Doc Ock barely had time to react, one of his arms trying to keep the boulder away from his face. It crushed the arm, pinning him to the pavement. He tugged at it before deciding to cut it loose, wobbling on three legs, losing some equilibrium.

“You’ll pay for that one!” he screeches, grabbing the girl and squeezing her tight. Kinesis struggles in his grip, but Doc Ock just coils his arm around her tighter.

“Hey Octopus! She’s a little young for you don’t you think?” Peter quips, using his webbing to tie up the villain’s remaining arms. His stature wobbles, but as he crashes down her doesn’t let the girl go. Instead she hits the ground head first, colliding with the asphalt before Peter can reach her.

“Kinesis!” Peter notices the metal coiling around her beginning to slacken, her form sliding down to ground level. An attempt is made to catch her, but suddenly the arms are breaking free of Peter’s webbing, the scientist regaining his bearings. He slams his mechanical arm down to stomp Kinesis, but her arms raise up a force field.

The barrier causes the arms to stumble once again, buying the duo more time. Peter is amazed at the strength Kinesis still has, but he can tell that it’s fading fast. Her arms are shaking, and her position on the ground hasn’t changed. Peter takes this moment to conjure a plan that will save them both, but all of a sudden the field started to sink.

The force pushing against it increases, and Kinesis yells out in pain. There’s nothing Peter can do but sling himself forward, rocketing towards Doctor Octopus and knocking him sideways. The two tumble, Peter pining down his shoulders as the villain laughs.

“You think my real arms are the issue? You must be dumber than I thought!” All at once Peter can see the arms poised to strike, then he casts a glance at Doc Ock. His smirk is menacing, but his expression changes as purple light illuminates his face.

Peter looks up to see the villains mechanical arms glowing, until the purple turns dark, and an outline is cast in white. The arms start to shudder, small nuts and bolts coming loose at first, and then sheets of metal falling dangerously around the two.

“What’s happening, what are you doing?” the villain cries, and Peter turns to look at Kinesis.

No longer is she laying on the ground; quite the opposite. Hovering high above them, Kinesis has her stare cast down on the villain, hands shrouded in a blaze of purple energy. She’s straining, her teeth grit in absolute focus as her eyes begin to lose irises. Around Peter, the mechanical arms separate, each of their parts floating in the air like a three-dimensional blueprint.

And then they stop glowing, now crashing down to Earth. Peter picks up Doc Ock and escapes the raining metal; thin, sharp edges sure to decapitate either one of them. Limp and gaping in shock, the villain doesn’t say a word as he’s taken away, watching as the police begin to pick up what has become of his contraption.

Peter’s eyes have returned to normal size, and he whirls around to smile at Kinesis, before he sees her crumpled form laying in the debris. He bites his lip, wondering what the best course of action was.

He certainly couldn’t leave her there, (that was against so many of his morals) but he had no home to take her to; no apartment, no friends or family of hers to house her. Hospitals were out of the question, (what hospital was equipped to deal with alien anatomy? none that he knew,) which left him with one option. It wasn’t even the best option, or a foolproof one, it was just the least likely to have bad repercussions.

Peter sighed, scooping the girl into his arms and swinging from building to building, taking the fastest route to the Avenger’s compound.

Walking into the compound with a dirty, unconscious alien girl in your arms wasn’t the best way to attract attention, but it was certainly easy.

The balcony doors were open (the preferred method of entry for Tony, Sam and Peter) which enabled Peter to swing right in, stopping with a skid. Kinesis was still out, and Peter had no choice but to hoist her over his shoulder like a sack. He held the back of her thighs carefully as he ran through the training deck, down the stairs, (the elevator seemed less urgent) and into the main hall which housed a make shift loft.

Nearly every Avenger was sitting there—the T.V. was on and sounds of laughter could be heard from a flight up. Peter didn’t know whether or not he should just yell to gather their attention, but it seemed he didn’t need to. His loud, crashing footfalls made Sam Wilson roll his eyes, casting a dark glance over at Peter before his eyes widened in pure shock.

“Man, what the hell are you doing with that girl!” he screamed, causing every avenger to turn their heads to the wall crawler. Thankfully, he still adorned the mask, which shielded his burning face from their incredulous faces.

“Did…did you kidnap a girl?” Steve narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the situation. Peter shook his head, using one had to steady Kinesis, and the other to pull off his mask.

“She’s unconscious and she has no family, I couldn’t just leave her on the street, so I panicked!” he stumbled, speaking in a rushed, high pitched voice. When her body started to slide of his shoulders he jumped, making her flop onto the tile floor. She didn’t make a single sound and Peter covered his mouth in shock.

“Oh my god she’s dead! You killed her!” Clint screamed, making Peter even more nervous. His eyes started to water and he really, really wished Y/N was here to take control on the situation. He closed his eyes and tried to breath, when a hand rested firmly on Peter’s shoulders. He looked up, seeing a pair of hard set blue eyes.

“Kid, she’s not dead,” Steve started, before casting a glance at Kinesis’ crumpled, motionless form. “Um, at least I doubt she is. I’ll take her up to the med bay, meanwhile Clint will call Bruce and Tony,” Steve cut his eyes over to the archer, who merely swallowed thickly before nodding.

“You’re going to change out of the suit and wait patiently until they get here, got it?” Steve didn’t stay for an answer. He gently pushed Peter to sit down, before lifting Kinesis with ease. He placed her head onto his chest before walking away calmly, and the whole room shifted into a more comfortable air.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Steve’s retreating figure down to Peter, who sat slumped in an arm chair that seemed to swallow him. Cuts littered his face, and the boy rubbed his arms absent mindedly, wincing as he reached his sore biceps.

“Take a trip to the med bay yourself, kid. Patch up some of those marks,” he mentioned, pointing to his ailments. Peter scowled, resting his hands in his lap to keep them from rubbing his wounds.

“They’re just scrapes, it’ll heal over,” he waved off, causing the soldier to frown even deeper.

“There’s a difference between cuts and scrapes,” he pointed out, and Peter blinked, looking up at the man with curious eyes.

“I know. Everyone says that,” he carefully answered. Bucky said nothing more, but his eyes lingered on Peter for a little longer before he sighed, resting his palm in Peter’s hair.

“I’m sure she’d patch you up if she were here, but she isn’t. And she won’t always be.” The statement was so on the nose that it made Peter flinch, the small smile that rested on his lips fading quickly. His gaze dropped to the floor, his warped reflection expressing the same sadness.

“I know that, too.”

 Bruce had arrived before Tony did, taking off his coat and making quick work of a scan, and to Peter’s cuts. The young genius sat across from Dr. Banner, watching as he stood beside the machine and examined Kinesis. His eyes were alive and darting across every feature on the girl’s body, his brow furrowed.

“Is something wrong?” Peter finally queried, unnerved by the methodical gaze Dr. Banner used on his friend. In the cold and pristine room, Kinesis looked less like a superhero, and more like a woman of the street. Her costume looked cheap without the luxurious cloak, which was hanging behind the door like a jacket. She seemed reduced, and Dr. Banner’s gaze did nothing to help that.

Bruce seemed to sense Peter’ unease, bringing his eyes up to the young man. He raked a hand through his hair, placing his glasses atop his head. “You say she’s not from Earth?” He finally proposed, his tone suggesting he had more to say.

Peter looked from Kinesis, (whose green hair and forehead jewel seemed to imply that much) back to Dr. Banner. “That’s what she told me.”  

Obviously aware of Peter’s doubts, Bruce chuckled. “Believe me, she doesn’t look like any human I know. But she doesn’t seem alien either,” he furthered, which made Peter perk up.

“Well, Thor’s an alien, and he looks pretty human,” Peter countered, wondering what evidence he could gather about Kinesis’ origins from just looking at her.

“Thor is an unusual case, considering he’s from another realm,” Bruce served, and Peter shut his mouth effectively. Bruce didn’t smile, his hands blocking his mouth as he tapped his fingers to his lips.

“I can’t draw any conclusions about this, but the computer might be able to match an Asgardian from our files on Thor and Vision.” His shoes tapped against the ground, a habit that alerted Peter.

“You don’t think she’s Asgardian though,” The boy said, wondering if was best to point out the flaw in his plan. “If she’s not, then what?”

Bruce stopped, his entire body halting as he pondered Peter’s words. “We haven’t got anything else to go off of. I’m afraid that if she’s something else entirely, there may not be a way we could help her.”

“But there has to be something you can—“ Peter’s lament was cut off by the sound of the printer whirring to life. Licking the tip of his finger, Bruce squinted, reading the chart with his undivided attention. Suddenly he ripped his glasses off his head and reread the report, eyes narrowing.

“This isn’t right,” he murmured, his tone low and laden with skepticism. “Did I do something wrong?” He wasn’t paying Peter any mind, going back to the computer and messing around with some windows. He whispered to himself, saying the instructions out loud until another few sheets rolled out. Bruce snatched them with urgency, skimming quickly, before he frowned.

“This looks familiar,” he noted, again, ignoring Peter, who had many questions on his lips. Absolutely nothing had changed in Kinesis’ condition; she was still lying flat on the table, eyes shut and mouth parted, although she didn’t appear to be breathing.

A third copy printed, and Bruce quickly stapled them together before reading them side by side. He circled a few things with his pen before typing something into the computer again. “Friday, run a brain scan please,” he ordered, and a few seconds later the machine moved, imaging Kinesis’ head.

“What’s going on?” Peter blurted, finally getting a question in. Dr. Banner cast him a wary look, mouth open to answer his question when someone’s footsteps arrived.

“Brucey, why is there a goth girl in the scanner?”  Tony Stark was halfway through setting his sunglasses down when he noted Kinesis. His eyes moved from one person to the other, before resting on Peter. “Parker, what have you done?”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but the machine shut off, a map of Kinesis’ brain popping up on the computer screen. Tony’s eyebrow raised, but Bruce held up a finger, dragging the image to the far wall for them all to look at.

“Hmm, interesting. That looks pretty human,” Tony mused, looking back to the green haired girl. “You sure she’s an alien?”

“She’s got rapid cell regeneration, and some other elements running through her blood that probably aid her powers,” Bruce starts, but Tony interjects.

“Midichlorians?” Tony jokes, but Peter can see that he’s just as confused. Bruce’s face maintains an urgent air to it, his lips pressed tight as he drags another brain scan next to the first. He leans forward with his arm crossed, looking sideways at Tony.

“What do you see?” he simply asks, but Tony is silent, stepping closer with wide eyes. He brings his finger up to the scans, which from Peter’s perspective look exactly the same.

“I see my daughter’s brain. Twice,” Tony says without hesitation. “This one has a bigger midbrain,” he points, zeroing in on the first image, pointing to an area that had slightly more yellow patch. “Why?”

“That first scan belongs to Kinesis.”

The whole room fell into silence, Tony’s mouth open in disbelief before he shut it. “I don’t believe you,” the billionaire’s voice was so quiet, he almost talked in a whisper. Peter wasn’t even aware Tony could speak so softly. Bruce, however, seemed prepared for his response, handing Tony the two medical reports before sitting down.

Peter shot up, gazing at the wall with an analytical stare, his mouth drier than a desert. He looked at the body lying down, and then back to the brain scans. The two were nearly identical, down to shape and configuration. It would be hard to argue with something as clear as that.

But there was no fucking way.

“I’ve been fighting alongside her for months,” Peter voiced, his tone strained as he tried to say the words. “I think I would have noticed if that were Y/N! And you just said, there were chemicals found in her blood-“

“Trace amounts of foreign chemicals in type negative AB. Which Y/N has.” Tony spoke, his voice grave as he looked through the charts. “Patient has a healed tibia and only eleven ribs.” He set the sheet down and rubbed his forehead, as if he was trying to scrub out the information he’d just learned. “You know a lot of people with eleven ribs?”

“Aliens?” Peter tried, but his heart hammered in his chest. Could it have been possible that for months, (months!) he had fought alongside you? He couldn’t quite pin down which thought was worse—the idea that he hadn’t recognized anything about you in a mediocre disguise, or that fact that you had been enhanced or mutated and didn’t even bother to tell him? The fact that he had trusted you with his alter-ego, and yet still, here you were, keeping secrets?

It was Shanghai all over again; with a secret that could only be concealed for so long, and the more you waited, the worse the outcome became.

Peter sniffed, feeling tears well in his eyes. It made sense, after all. Kinesis was so shrouded in secrets, and you were so great at keeping them.

“I can’t tell you what to make of all this,” Bruce spoke, after what seemed like hours. “Her rapid regeneration should repair any wounds she may have gotten within a matter of time. What I don’t understand is where she got these powers, or when.”

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I, Banner?”

Your voice was like a specter, the point of origin seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. Three head swiveled to Kinesis’ figure, sitting up and clutching her head.

Now that Kinesis was staring at them all intently, Peter could surely confirm that your face and Kinesis’ were not the same.  Kinesis had lidded eyes, making her visage seem permanently sleepy. Her nose was smaller than yours, and her brows were extremely thick and arched. She had only a dash of freckles across her nose, and her green curls were frizzed around her shoulders.

Still, her expression was one you would make, a small, guilty half-smile tipping up the corners of your lips. You brought your eyes up to each one of the males before slipping your hands underneath your bangs and letting the green wig tumble onto the table.

Next was your face—you made quick work of grabbing an end of something underneath your chin, the fake face starting to glitch. Off came a mask made of mesh, and Kinesis, with her forehead jewel and elegant features, turned into you.

Tony stood, his posture rigid as his feet seemed to press into the ground. Your eyes met, and for a second neither of you said a word. “Dad,” you started, your voice unable to stay steady under his intense stare.

“You make a good hero, kid,” he suddenly praised, and your eyes went wide. His lips turned into his signature smirk, one laden with betrayal and hurt, the one that couldn’t express all the emotions he wanted to. “Maybe even better than me,” he tried to chuckle, but the sound was hollow and dull, ringing out with pain.

“You would never have let me if I told you,” you tried to amend, going straight to the point where it seemed Tony wouldn’t. “I couldn’t tell you and have you worrying—“

“Like I am now? You didn’t want me to worry, so you just decided to come home every night at 12 am with bruises the size of golf balls? You just, decided that I would never be worried if you didn’t give me something to worry about? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Y/N.”

The accusation echoed, it’s suggestion hanging in the air like fog. You blinked, a pang of sorrow, regret and guilt stabbed at your heart. You leaned forward, breathing in deep to release the tightness in your chest. “I know you well enough to know you would never let me fight crime without a titanium suit and you by my side. I did this to protect you!”

“Protect me from what? Y/N, Iron Man is what brings the bad guys to earth, not you!”

“From you!” Y/N screamed, your face contorted with anger, but more prominently, with sorrow. “What would you have done if you’d known? Would you have let me? Tell me the truth!”

You sort of expected an answer, but you most certainly did not expect one to come from Peter. “It would have been nice to know, in case you died and never came home.” Peter cursed as his voice came out fragile, creaking like thin glass. His fists curled by his side, watching you with a gaze full of indignation. “It would have been nice to know, considering that we put a great amount of trust in you. But you can’t return the favor.”

At this, Tony balked, understanding the door he’d just opened. He took a step forward, hands out in a placating gesture. “Peter,” he soothed, making rare use of his first name.

Despite that, Peter couldn’t bear to turn his ear. His entire body was shaking, his nerves blaring danger but his brain trying to calm it down. He was a tempest of conflictions, a clumsy and sloppy mess that contradicted itself, until he felt his feet bolt out the door. It was the best he could do now—Peter had spent too long waiting for you to finally be the person he could trust above anyone else, but you kept letting him down.

Perhaps it was his fault. Maybe he’s spent too much time creating a version of you in his mind that the real version couldn’t compete with. He probably did this to himself, and somewhere in his mind he understood that, but the pain was visceral, lapping up his body like flames that threatened to devour him. He moved down stairs, ran through halls, all to get away from you, but obviously, you were faster.

He didn’t hear you calling his name, but he definitely felt the moment his feet tripped up, blurry vision preventing him from doing much about it. He braced himself to face the fall, but instead he was hooked underneath his arms and lifted up, floating over the gap. He didn’t need to look up to know that is was you, flying through the staircase and out towards the balcony.

He thought you would deposit him there, but instead you kept hovering higher, until you reached the roof. He kicked out of your grip, and you landed softly beside him, like Kinesis had on the roofs in Queens. It was jarring, seeing your dirty face mixed with Kinesis’ torn costume. He turned, hoping to keep the two separate in his mind.

“Peter,” your shaky voice pleaded, a hand resting on the boy’s hunched shoulder. “I wanted to tell you.”

“When?” he sniffed, head still ducked down. “Was it after I got hurt? Was it when I thought you were jealous of Kinesis?” The more he spoke the heavier his heart felt, but he kept pushing through his spiel. “Or maybe when we sat on the fire escape and you lied about where you came from? You lied about everything!”

He didn’t catch you wince, but he felt the warmth on his shoulder subside. There was a sigh from somewhere behind him, and then you met the ground, sitting with your legs over the roof, heels hitting the side of the compound.

Despite his hatred of you in that moment, Peter dropped next to you, looking out over the field that surrounded the area. The sun had started to dip back down, but sunset was still far away. A breeze swept through his hair and dried his tears while the two of you stared forward.

“I wanted to tell you as soon as it happened. As soon as I learned what I could do,” you spoke, setting the tone between you two. You rested your hands in your lap, palms up, a sliver of violet light emitting from them. “I met a man in Tibet, who said he’d never seen powers like mine on Earth. I wanted to tell you,” you reiterated, before clenching your fists and snuffing the light.

“But I was scared.” Peter’s head turned to yours, watching as you rolled your wrists with deep intent. “I didn’t know what this meant. This changed everything for me.” Suddenly your eyes picked up, and he realized that they still held that indeterminable color that Kinesis had. “I was so used to being Tony Stark’s daughter, to being the heir to his inventions and his fortune. But now who am I? What am I?”

The animosity drained out of Peter, leaning back on his hands to keep him steady. You were being secretive—this much you didn’t pretend to deny—but for reasons Peter could relate to. He stared down at his own hand, the web shooter peeking out from underneath his sweater. For a moment, he thought that he couldn’t fathom the pressure you felt, but then he understood that he did.

He had to bear the burden of Spider-Man, and keep it hidden because he was afraid of what those powers meant. Gaining his strength and agility had turned him into a completely different person. And he didn’t even have to bear that alone.

But you had lost everything—and everyone—after leaving for Shanghai. You had to shoulder the weight of your powers, and the possibility that you weren’t even human. And for someone like you, the effects of that thinking had clearly manifested in not just an alter ego, but what seemed to be two separate people.

He stared at you with softer, kinder eyes, before taking your hand in his. You flinched as he slipped his palm into yours, clutching it tightly.

“You don’t have to hide everything. You have more than your father. You have the Avengers. You have me.” The words were a long time coming, Peter knew. Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, but he squeezed your hand to still them. “You always did.”

“I,” you started, swallowing thickly to alleviate the lump in your throat. Peter’s eyes shined hazel in the afternoon sun, but you were pretty sure you had never seen them look otherwise. For a second you had forgotten the pain you’d caused, the burning in your lungs shifting into breathlessness.

“I don’t deserve you,” you managed, looking Peter in the eye. “All you’ve ever done is care about me, and I told you, I told you,” you were crying now, full on blubbering as you tried to reconcile with him. “I’m no good, Peter Parker. You never should have met me.”

He opened his mouth to refute that argument, but you just chuckled, a stale, humorless laugh. “You would have been so much happier.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know a thing about me.” Peter used your words against you, causing your face to tilt up. He brought his hand under your chin, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “If it wasn’t for you I’d probably be crushed under debris, or electrocuted to death, or worse. I would have failed sophomore English if it wasn’t for you!” His joke made you laugh, a watery, fragile thing that he took regardless.

“You became Kinesis and you helped save New York. Does that sound like someone who’s no good?” You didn’t bother to shake your head, instead shifting your position so that you and Peter sat face to face, his hands now holding your cheeks. The sun illuminated the back of your head and created a halo around your hair, an effect that only seemed to occur for you. Peter couldn’t help but think back to the afternoons after school, walking back from thrift shops and pizza places, your hair always frizzed like a corona.

“I’m sorry. You were finally doing something for yourself and I chided you for it. I just wished you could have trusted me.” He brought the point back, his hands retreating from your face. You picked them up, holding onto them, your arms swinging like a bridge between your bodies.

“I wish I had the guts to. I never realized how hard it was to tell people. And you were forced to tell me. I’m sorry I took that from you.”

“If I could go back and have a choice, I’d choose you in a second.” He stated, eyes dead locked on yours. “As long as it meant I’d know you.”

“Even with all the shit I caused? Even with Shanghai, with, with, the suffering and the waiting and—“ Peter didn’t let you finish. As soon as you were about to gasp out about the pain and heartbreak you drove him crazy with, he tugged on your hands and brought his lips to yours, going in for a kiss that felt warm and organic and finite. Everything seemed right as you brought your hands to cup his cheeks, pulling his even closer and your lips melded, like everything was aligning to this moment.  

The sun brightened, the heat on your cheeks burning with emotions that were too long unsettled, but not forgotten. It felt like days had passed since your lips first met, and when you both leaned out, you were surprised to find the sun right where you’d left it.

Peter rested his forehead to yours, a genuine smile pulling at his lips. He let out a breath, his heart pounding in his chest like he’d run a marathon. His hands tingled, goosebumps erupting on his skin despite the heat blaring down on him. It took a moment before either of you spoke.

“I’d go through it all again as long as it leads here. Because I love you.” He was sincere, and he meant it, and you could have cried again if your mouth wasn’t occupied smiling.

“I know,” you quoted, and Peter laughed, thinking it was pretty apt for the situation. “But I love you too, in case you didn’t know.” Peter’s lips met yours again, smiling into the kiss as those several sunlit days turned into weeks and years, crashing down on you in a span of seconds; forever feeling like one moment and then another, and then another.

And Peter Parker was in the center of it all, like he’d always been.

If you’re reading this and you have been since coming of age or personal physician or any of the other fics i put out before this just,,,thank you so much for liking and reblogging and commenting and leaving replies you guys are the best. When I started these stories it was just something I thought about in the car ride home or a daydream in class. I never thought I’d write them down and i never thought people would actually like them?? so just thank you so so much to all of you because you make me feel like my writing is worth something and that’s the best thing i’ve ever felt. 

This is not the end on Peter and Y/N, don’t worry, there’s lots more! Phase Three is on it’s way!

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