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huenjin · 4 years ago

Text

the study of relationships.

summary — college team's volleyball captain and your roommate-cum-best friend, hwang hyunjin argues with you over guys being better than girls in relationships to help you out of one. or in which hyunjin is in love with you for years now and he finally decides that maybe he doesn't want that best friend tag anymore.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. minho

genre — fluff, angst | volleyball!au, f2l!au, roommates!au

rating — nc-17

word count — 15k words

note — kinda excited to post this very long plotted fic on here because first long fic for skz !!! this fic is brought to you by hq, hyunjin's long blond hair and b me mv that we never got. please please do send me constructive criticism so that i can improve on my writing for this community. happy reading!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Your best friend, Hwang Hyunjin yells at the top of his voice, pitch lower in precision as you open the door and slam it shut forcefully, the sound loud enough to bounce to him clearly. Your feet storm hard against the wooden flooring of your apartment, sound bouncing off from that again and Hyunjin pauses his video game to look at you.

It's a familiar sight. Hyunjin sighs.

"Hey," he tries catching your attention but he fails. You storm into your room, hair flailing behind you in your anger, eyes blurry with the angst you feel that wraps slowly around your heart. You walk into the room and slam the door shut, so loud that a chip of wood breaks from the top of the door and falls down.

"Jesus Christ! Y/N—" Hyunjin yells to no one in particular. However, he drops his controller to the side of the couch and jumps to his feet only after pausing his game. He takes big strides to your room and in high contrast to his rash movements, his knocking on your door is very gentle.

"Can I come in?" He asks, scratching the door absentmindedly. He presses his ear and head against the door to hear a response but all he hears are your soft cries and it makes him sad.

"Y/N—"

"Go away, Hyunjin!"

"Y/N, let me in," he stresses, his leg kicking the air slightly, dangling before that. "I—"

"You're going to make fun of me."

"Will not." Hyunjin knows where this stems from and he won't deny. However, at this minute, he just wants to be there for you. Teasing could wait for an hour or so after you've calmed down. "So please?"

You hum and Hyunjin waits for a sign of protest. When he hears none, he takes it as an approval to open the door and the sight before him hurts him ever so slightly.

You are wrapped in a cocoon of your white blanket and your head is buried in the sheets outside, not ready to look up at your best friend. He frowns as he walks towards you, letting himself to sit by your side. He stretches his arm out and stops when you declare,

"I'm a world class dumpee."

"You are," he shrugs, voice tainted with a slight tease and you look up at him, glaring with your red, puffy eyes. You try shoving him but the cocoon you are wrapped in slightly falls forward too in impact. Hyunjin laughs and stretches both his arms forward to prevent you from falling forwards.

You pout, mumbling with a voice that is strained and is your proof of the urge to cry, "You promised you wouldn't."

"I'm your best friend," he shrugs and pushes your body wrapped in the thick blankets backwards, your head hitting against the pillow. A soft whine leaves your lips, followed by an oomph. "You knew I was going to tease you at the very first opportunity."

And then Hyunjin pounces on you, tickling your sides over the covers and your tickle sensitive being rushes in sensation as you laugh your heart out, chest heavy and mind focussing only on your best friend that you forget about the boy who broke up with you an hour back.

"Stop," you laugh. "Hyunjin," you whine. "Stop, you idiot," you laugh again. "I'm going to kill you—"

Hyunjin's laughter fills the air along with yours. In your perspective through your watery eyes, you see a boy with no worries and all smiles and you want to be like that. You desperately want to be like that. You push your wrapped body upwards to shove Hyunjin to the side and it works. He laughs, slowly receding with yours and he lets out a loud relieved sigh as he looks at your face with less creases and tears that now fall due to laughter.

"Hey," Hyunjin says and you turn your head to face him. His face is rigid, the childish gleam that he had just a while back long gone.

"Yeah?"

He sits up, running a hand through his hair and folding his arms soon after. "The guy was a jerk," he tells, helping you up. His hand finds the end of the blanket and unwraps it slowly from your being. "He was a mighty jerk, okay?"

"He is your teammate, Lee Minho," you stare, dead into his eyes and he shrugs.

"I know," he sighs before shrugging, giving you a nonchalant look. "What was it this time? Let me guess, he broke up with you for no reason again."

You hit the blankets that cover your thigh hard and send imaginary daggers in Hyunjin's way, "Yeah! I just don't understand why he'd break up with me."

"Uh, possibly because—"

"Is it because I'm on like close friend terms with everyone in the college volleyball team? I mean, Lee Minho always said dating—"

"Dating you would be hard, Y/N," Hyunjin continues, mocking your ex-boyfriend's voice. "You hang out with so many guys and all your best friends are dudes that it makes me jealous," Hyunjin pauses, placing his hands flat on the bed from behind as he leans back. "Ah, Lee Minho, that bastard. He always did say that to you."

You look down, fidgeting with your fingers and you roar out in anger. Hyunjin looks at you amused until you say, "Why can't guys be more like girls?"

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin's eyebrow is raised and he laughs mockingly. He lifts his arms from behind, stretches his back before sitting up straight. He kicks his legs and raises it upwards to sit cross legged, looking straight at you and laughs again. "You are totally kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not, Hyunjin," your eyebrows furrow. "The reason behind most, if not all, break-ups is the guy."

Hyunjin agrees with you deep down. Okay, maybe not completely but at least a ninety percent and that's a good one. However, he knows how competitive you are and if there's something that can get your head out of this post break up blues, it's this.

A competition. And so just to entice you a little, he sneers, "If anything, girls should be more like guys."

"Bitch, no," you laugh, head falling back at the sheer stupidity that rolls out from your best friend's mouth. "Men are so conceited that they had to make a whole word for treating women equal."

"Not all men simp. Plus, it's an AAVE and that people should not use it. In my defense, I've treated you like a guy my whole life," he shrugs. Lies. Lies. Lies he spews out endlessly because at one point, without him even knowing, things did change and he's seen you as a woman; as a woman he now has feelings for.

Hyunjin, to prove his point, hits you on his back like you've seen him do with all his teammates and your torso bends forward from your hips on impact. "See!" He stretches his arms, tattoos on display in the loose half sleeved black top he wears and you wince, stretching your hand back to rub only for Hyunjin to stop laughing quickly and rub your back, mumbling, "Sorry."

"Hyunjin," you shrug, mumbling, trying to guide your best friend. "Don't ever use the not all men tag, please."

He slaps a hand over his mouth, realising his error, again apologising and you stretch your hand forward quickly to protest, "No, no," you tell, "You don't have to apologise. I just hope you know how it sounds."

"I do," he falls back, lying down against your mattress. "I do and I hate that I accidentally said it."

You follow suit, and fall on the bed, hair splaying around, some falling on Hyunjin's face. He groans, moving the hair away and whining, "It got into my mouth, ew." You laugh.

Hyunjin speaks out, staring at the ceiling, "Whose fault is it that a relationship goes astray?"

"Still going to say the men," you look at the same spot he stares at. "They're—"

"It's a war."

"See!" You exclaim. "This is the issue with men. They cut us off all the time."

Hyunjin laughs, hand stretching out to hold your wrist to soothe you down and mumbling another apology, he continues, "This is a battle, Y/N; a battle that's aged long and has never come to a conclusion. The battle—"

"Get to the point."

"Look who cut me off now."

"Touché."

"Anyhow," he continues. "The battle between men and women."

"You definitely sounded like a prepubescent boy there," you look at Hyunjin. His skin is so clear, you notice, making a mental note to steal his skin care products later. He turns a second later to face you and he nods, "Don't care. Definitely going to win this."

"You wish," you let out a condescending laugh. "I'm going to beat your ass, Hyunjin."

"Kinky," he smiles that stupid, toothy grin of his, "I likey."

"You gross pubescent boy," you shove at his arms only for him to quickly hold your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours in the midst of the squabble. You let him, still laughing lightly, lungs light and mind free from all the sad thoughts.

"I see that I've got an upgrade."

"You did."

You're about to thank Hyunjin for this small gesture that probably seems to be nothing when his phone rings from the other room. The scary unexpected track to Tokyo Ghoul's opening – Unravel – that you can't help but accept that you've grown to like, plays.

He lets go of your hand and jolts upwards, jumping off the bed. A small whine leaves your lips unexpectedly and Hyunjin smiles at that. He pulls up the blankets over your body that he shifted, mumbling, "You should sleep early. You had a tough day."

"No," you whine yet again, "Let's talk more—" His phone rings louder, the scream part of the ringtone jolting you up and your hand falls on your chest in shock. "Hate when your phone does."

"And yet you sing along to it," he sings, humming the tune.

"Pfft," you scoff, holding onto the blanket, scrunching it in your grip. "Go. It's probably about the practise match against Yonsei University."

He hums in agreement, folding the blanket again carefully, right below your neck, his cold hands brushing against your clavicle and the temperature difference runs a shiver down your spine.

Hyunjin switches off the light as he walks out, gently closing the door shut and you watch your best friend throwing a small smile at you before leaving. Did you really deserve all this care? Perhaps not.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, dashes out to get the phone before the caller cuts the call in frustration. He's definitely not spending the money to call back whoever it is. That shit is expensive. He jumps a couple of steps and grabs his phone, accepting the call before looking at the name of the caller.

"Hyunjin…" It's Lee Minho. "Can you come over?"

"I really want to throw a punch at you, you bastard."

And Hyunjin does. Virtually, of course. Over the game they are playing. He couldn't afford to injure a fellow teammate when the preliminaries are right around the corner.

"Bro," Minho sighs. "Can you go easy on me?"

His game character hits Minho's again, the energy bar of the other drastically going down on the screen. Hyunjin can't stop. The frustration that he has pent up over the last hour after seeing you cry and crumble over being dumped by his other friend drives him to the edge and he delivers another punch. Minho's character dramatically collapses as soon as the energy bar is empty and he drops the console by his side, pressing his back against the sofa, arms wrapped against his chest, pouting.

"I—"

"Go on," Hyunjin glares at him. "You better have a good explanation."

Minho runs a hand through his hair and sitting up straight, turning his torso to face Hyunjin, he tells, "I don't."

"You're lucky that we have a match soon, else you'd be six feet underground," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his hands over his head and folding it behind. "I can't believe you did that to Y/N."

"I fell out of love with her," Minho says. He doesn't dare to look at Hyunjin because he fears if the glares would actually result in him six feet underground. "Can't that be the only reason?"

Hyunjin chuckles, moreso at himself than at his friend, mumbling under his breath so low that Minho thinks it's just him humming, "Is it possible to fall out of love with her?"

He wishes Lee Minho could tell him how.

Hyunjin stands up, patting his denim jeans and looking at Minho, he warns, eyebrows furrowing, "I'll help her out with this. Just don't be a jerk and start dating in like two days."

"I—" Hyunjin glares at him. "Fine."

"Practice at seven," he adds and grabs the key of his motorcycle from the table before him. "Don't be late and act normal around Y/N."

"Fine, sir," Minho rolls his eyes. He won't admit it ever but the man warning him could be the reason for his breakup. That and his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him. But it's mostly Hwang Hyunjin. He knows how he feels even if you didn't.

Hyunjin walks out of Minho's house, closing the door on his way out and getting on his motorcycle, he rides back home to you. Just as he had promised you.

He opens the door to your room as soon as he enters his house, removing his shoes and placing it to the side, only to find his ears listening to the soft snores that let free from your lips. Carefully he walks towards you, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin lightly and tilting your head upwards to help you breathe properly.

He pauses for a minute just to watch you. Your eyebrows that you dislike so much just because according to you, it's not thick enough. He loves it however, even though you would never listen to him. Your eyelashes cast a gentle shadow on your high cheekbones and he gasps because you're so beautiful. You're so near to him and yet so far.

He bends forward, pushes your fringes to the side and places a soft kiss against your forehead, mumbling the words he wishes he could tell you straight up. Even if he did, you'd probably laugh and scoff at him.

"Beautiful girl," his lips graze the skin by your forehead, "You are a fighter. You have always been a fighter. You are stronger than you think. You are braver than you believe. Every challenge that life has thrown at you, you've conquered every obstacle that has been placed in front of you. You've overcome every single one of them. You are unstoppable and unbreakable and right now, you are filled with more faith than you have ever been."

Hyunjin pulls away, softly caressing the hair by the side of your face, "So please believe in yourself. You're worth so much love. So much of it, Y/N."

"The jerseys came!"

Bang Chan screams, a huge grin on his face as he opens the door for you. He runs to Felix and holds onto his shoulders before jumping up and down in joy. He is so delighted. "It looks so good, dude."

Hyunjin smiles, running towards you and helping you with the cardboard box. "It's alright," you mumble. "I'm the manager. It's my job."

"Pfft," he scoffs. "And I'm your best friend. It's my job." He picks the huge box that covers your entire upper half, easily and places it down before the coach and the team.

Jisung rushes to your side, nudging you with his elbow, "We've got a pretty good manager." He bends down and rips open the box, taking his jersey in his hand, "Number 13, bitches. Nothing shows what an amazing libero I am like the number most feared." You laugh.

"Number 10 isn't that bad, I guess." You hear Minho's voice break through the cluster of voices and your movements still. You turn your head to look at the brown haired boy who towers over you, wearing a smile so pretty that your heart still skips a beat.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiles. "Thanks for bringing this over."

"Uh," you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze everywhere else besides at Minho. "I guess. It's my job, yeah."

Hyunjin notices. He always does. The boy runs towards you with his jersey. Number 1 printed in big behind. The setter brings the jersey so close to your face that it's buried in the fresh opened shirt. "Number 1, of course," he laughs, scrunching the shirt in his hand as he raises both his arms above.

"Oh, shut up, Jinnie," you laugh.

"Yeah, shut up, Jinnie," Jisung echoes. The middle blocker, though not the tallest in stature, is excellent at his position and has the biggest love-hate relationship with your best friend. He folds his arms and mocks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin places his right hand down on Jisung's head, ruffling his hair after pressing down on it. He scolds the older boy, "Don't call me Jinnie. Y/N's the only one who gets to call me that."

"Stop gathering around people," The captain claps his hands together to gather all of your attention. You quickly rush to his side and he smiles at you warmly, before looking at his team and glaring at each of them as they gather around him. "Yonsei University was kind enough to arrange a practice match with us thanks to—"

"Y/N," Jisung shouts, pivoting his arms by their sockets before lifting them both high above his head, cheering for you.

"Don't cut me off, Han," the coach shoots daggers at him, frowning visibly at the disobedience. "One more time and you're running around the gymnasium twenty times."

Jisung groans, only after winking at you. You chuckle under your breath, covering your face with the notepad in your hand. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, nudging Jisung to 'keep it in his pants' in the scariest voice ever. You could feel the dark clouds around Hyunjin, the aura darkening for a split minute before he breaks out into a huge smile as he looks at you.

The coach instructs out commands; strategies to help the team win against Yonsei. Moves that he's studied after watching their matches. You know this because you watched Hyunjin do the same at home. He does it at odd timings though.

You would wake up at three in the morning to grab a glass of water and you'd find your best friend squatting in front of the television as he watches every single one of Yonsei's matches. He wouldn't listen to you telling him to go to sleep because, "Being the captain is hard, Y/N. The whole team's banking on me to set the ball perfectly at the right time. I can't..."

And you understand. You understand the worries that go around in his head, the anxiety of being the best because he's no genius. He got to the top, made a name for him all thanks to his hard work and if he needs to keep it — he won't have it any other way — he swears to god that he would practise and study till he drops dead. Hwang Hyunjin loves volleyball that much.

So, you do what any friend would do.

You would make two cups of coffee, one for him and one for yourself. You sit next to him and watch the match with him. Your head lays back against the soft material of the sofa, just watching Hyunjin's eyes fixed on the screen, studying each movement of every player, gasping occasionally at how the setter of Yonsei's team leans his head back to decoy the opposite team only to dump the ball.

You don't remember much from that night because you fall asleep way too quick in the silence and in the presence of a focussed Hyunjin, your cup of coffee half empty. You don't remember anything from that night besides the fact that you woke up in your bed the next morning, or more like, Hyunjin waking you up the next morning because you overslept. Either ways, you were back in your bed and for that, you were grateful.

And as soon as the coach is done with the instructions, the team members scramble before splitting themselves into two groups, first to do serves and then perfect shots and finally, have a practice match.

You sit next to the coach, watching each and every member. That's what the previous manager told you to do. To observe. That's what the manager must do. To observe so well that you know each member well enough to know how their mind works, how their personalities are and who they truly want to be.

This is exactly why you can't seem to ever hate Lee Minho. Because you've seen him on the court, at his very best.

He's the best darn middle blocker you've ever seen. He doesn't tower that much over people with his height but when he jumps, lifting off his feet, he is as good as a wall cemented and strong before the opponent. He has only got better with every practice match and you realise that he wants to be better. And that's how he truly is. The constant urge to do better than the person he was before and perhaps, to Minho, you are someone he wants to leave behind in the past.

There's no one to blame here and you realise that it's a lot better if you accept the truth before it hurts you more than it should.

But then, in a second, Hyunjin takes your attention away whole heartedly. The boy arches his body so beautifully as he sets the ball for Jisung who slams the ball over the net with such force that leaves you gaping, notebook slamming your thigh. The coach stands up, his heels slamming the ground first before his toes do and he is as stunned as you are, eyes wide.

Funnily, Jisung's surprised too.

"We did it!" He says slowly, his words gradually making sense to him and when it does, he rushes to him, holding his shoulders and jumping ecstatically, "Hwang Hyunjin, we fucking did it!"

"When did you guys practice that?" The coach cuts the commotion short with his question. Hyunjin turns to face him along with Jisung, scratching the back of his head. Jisung is so overjoyed that he rushes to the coach, "Today morning! It sounded delusional but we pulled it off, coach."

You look at Hyunjin, who turns his attention back to you as soon as the coach is scrambling off to tell more instructions to Jisung on how he should time it a little bit earlier to hit it with even more impact. You smile, giving him a thumbs up and Hyunjin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Are you guys finally dating now that Minho's out of the picture?" Chan nudges Hyunjin. The man stumbles a step forward on impact only to quickly look at the older with eyes so wide that he wonders if it were possible.

"What?" He splutters the words out, voice haphazard after the cough.

"Everyone in the team thinks you guys should," Chan shrugs and Hyunjin's face morphs into that of seriousness almost instantly and shoots the other male with, "Did Minho hear of this?"

"Perhaps," Chan catches the ball Felix throws at him. The coach claps his hands to bring the attention back to him, barking out orders to resume the game. Chan pats Hyunjin's shoulders, "You know what we always tell, Hyunjin, in this sport—"

"Take the shot when you see the opportunity."

"Exactly."

"Or someone's going to block again," Chan sniggers and looks at Minho, who was trying his very best to avoid your gaze, "This time round, it could be someone better than our middle blocker."

You're picking up the volleyballs lying around when the guys go to shower and change, dribbling them slightly and smiling to yourself. A figure towers over you as they drop a ball into the huge bucket. You turn around to look up at Minho.

"Can we speak?"

"Do we have more to say?"

"I guess," he shrugs.

"We can still be friends, Minho," you sigh, eyes closed. "I also won't be those annoying types to tell Hyunjin to stay away from you because you broke up with me. You should know better."

"I didn't mean that," Minho looks offended. "I wanted to apologise. I should have tried harder perhaps."

"You should have."

"I know," Minho sucks in his lower lip. "I really should have but you know—"

"Lee Minho," your voice is firm. "I've told you a gazillion times that Hyunjin and I are just friends, Minho. Somehow you made up this sort of weird thing in your head so don't drag me into this mess. This is yours."

Minho scoffs, "You're going to eat your words soon," and picks up another ball. You remember the task you had forgotten in the heat of the moment, rushing to pick up a ball to put it back. The rest of the team is slowly making their way outside.

"I doubt," you sigh, throwing the last ball into the bucket and dusting your hands together. Jisung's darting towards you, hands in the air. Minho moves to the side, gliding against the floor, making way for the shorter man to reach you, bubbling with such enthusiasm you wonder what the cause of it is.

"Felix is treating us!"

Ah, so that's the reason. You smile at Jisung, nodding your approval. You push the bucket to the side of the gymnasium with Minho's help and switch the lights off as the team exits the gymnasium.

"Lee Minho!" You hear a feminine voice through the air, your eyebrows quirking upwards automatically. Hyunjin walks to your side, sighing as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket, mumbling so softly that you barely catch it, "I warned that asshole, God damn him."

Minho's face lights up in a way you haven't seen in a while and your heart is heavy. The woman, Irene — you hear Chan shout her name and wave at her — locks her arm with Minho's and walks with him, the man doing nothing to push her away. It shouldn't affect you. Not anymore now that the two of you have broken up and yet it hurts.

Hyunjin quickly pulls you away, preventing your eyes from lingering further even a minute more. His hand holds yours and he drags you to his motorcycle. You look down, biting the insides of your cheeks, alternating between the right and left every time you taste the copper of the blood.

"Your hand is so small," Hyunjin says. "Like look at how it fits into mine," he laughs, lifting your hand upwards as he clasps it tightly. He mumbles, "So small."

You break into a smile, watching Hyunjin tease you, momentarily drifting from the thought that upsets you and it leaves you wondering how Hyunjin does it all the time. He lets go of your hand, ruffling your hair as he bends lightly, "You've got this."

He quickly turns on the heels of his feet, pulling out the keys to his bike and igniting it. You hear Jisung scream from behind, "I thought you were taking me with you!"

Hyunjin screams back, "Carpool with the rest. I'm taking Y/N."

He lifts his leg, straddling the bike as he holds onto the handles, kicking the support free. He turns towards you and tells you to hop on and you do as he says. Your fingers hold his jacket, making sure you're not hugging him from behind. Minho's words run in your head and Hyunjin notices this small gesture of yours but he pays no heed. After all, it's been a while since he realised that what he has with you is better when it's platonic. He is too afraid to lose you.

"Jinnie," you tell him as he starts the motorbike, accelerating behind Jin who leads the way. You hear your best friend scream, "Yeah," through the loud winds that hit you.

You lean forward and speak closer into his ears, your jaw hitting his helmet, "Remember how I said the guys are to be blamed in a relationship."

"Yeah," he hints at you to proceed.

"Here's my first point. Minho back there," you point out. "It was that easy for a guy to move on. That easy," you stress your word. "While I'm here repenting if there was any way to get things back to where it was. However, there's no use in me trying because there's Minho with Irene like our relationship was a thing in the past."

"That doesn't mean he didn't care about you during the relationship. That's how guys are. They give it their everything when they're in the relationship," Hyunjin reasons and you laugh sardonically.

"You're kidding me, right? The girl definitely cares more. It almost seems so easy for the guys to break up and move on. Remember the time when you broke up with Lisa," you speak, raising your tone a little more so that Hyunjin can hear you. The motorcycle moving against the wind causes your hair to touch your mouth and you're spitting hair out facing the side. Hyunjin laughs, his grip on the accelerator tightening as he speeds up just a little bit, causing you to hold onto his jacket pockets a little tighter.

"Bro," Hyunjin mutters when you bring up Lisa. "I cried enough when she broke up with me, okay?"

"You did, for a day or two," you state. "The girl cried her heart out for a whole week. You went partying that Friday with Jisung!"

"Are we now using quantitative measurements to determine how deep our care and love is?" Hyunjin gasps, sounding very offended. "This reminds me why most relationships don't work. Because girls are shallow as fuck."

Hyunjin accelerates, missing sight of the speed breaker in front of him. It hurls you onto his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist to keep you safe. A soft scream leaves your lips as the side of your face buries into his broad back.

"Sorry," Hyunjin apologises quickly. "Didn't see that!" Hyunjin prays that you don't move your arms away but you do and he sighs, face falling. He is glad that you can't see him. Your hand is back to gripping his jacket and head back in this battle of words you're currently having with your best friend.

"It's okay," you tell him. "What's not okay is how you think women are shallow."

"They are!" He takes a turn to the left. Your thigh muscles tighten as it straddles the seat, fingers digging into his side for support. "I mean, let's be real, sweetheart. You take an hour or more to get ready for college."

"Because I want to look presentable!" You hit his broad back and he chuckles.

"Lies! You're shallow!"

"Says the person who walks around shirtless at home and stares at the mirror, lightly touching your abs and saying perfect," you tease and Hyunjin turns to look at you for a minute with his eyes wide before he turns his attention back on the road.

"You saw that?"

"Of course. I see that every day."

"But you're watching the television, how?"

"Reflections," you state.

He's gasping. The motorcycle slows down as it reaches Pizza Alvolo. The pizzeria is adjacent to a pretty park and you can hear the birds chirp lowly right before the sun is ready to set. You jump off the motorcycle, dusting the denims covering your thighs and Hyunjin removes his helmet, hooking it to the handle securely.

The rest of the team are seated in the pizzeria already waiting for the two of you, waving at you as soon as you enter the place. You rush and sit next to Jisung who has been aggravatingly patting the seat next to him. Hyunjin sits opposite to you, next to Chan. He snatches the menu from him and the elder male whines at the behaviour.

You look around and notice that Minho hasn't reached the place yet. Not that it mattered to you. You will slowly learn to stop caring so much for a man and you will soon be able to look at him and think of only the fond memories and nothing more.

Or so you thought.

The minute you see Minho walk into the pizzeria, although not with Irene, you feel the ground slip underneath you. Jisung is nice enough — albeit not knowing of the whole pickle you are in — to hold your wrist and turn your attention towards the stack of pizza boxes that come your way as he gleams, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

You look away from Minho and toward the direction Jisung points before turning to look at Hyunjin who lets out a loud sigh. You know that he's clutching at his thick thighs, nails digging into it at the sight of your uncomfortability. Hyunjin knows it will take you days to get over this break up, maybe weeks and that as a good best friend, he should wait. He should understand.

But it frustrates him so much. The sight of you being in pain, in hurt because of another man — his other best friend at that — pisses him off way more than he thought it should at first.

Hyunjin quickly takes his phone out and you narrow your eyes at him, mouthing, "Rude. Put it back into your pocket." In a second, your phone dings and you take yours out. Minho sits by Jisung's side in that second, a seat away from you and your heartbeat accelerates. You unlock your phone to see a message from Hyunjin and you lift up your head, raising an eyebrow at him and he eyes at you to open the message.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. You don't respond immediately, locking the phone and shoving it back into your pocket. You smile at Hyunjin, trying to signal that you were alright so far. Jisung opens the cardboard boxes of the pizza and squeals. Chan looks at the situation, analysing if it'd be bad for the team on a bigger approach. Hyunjin might be the captain but had it not been for Chan's guidance, the volleyball team would not have lasted a day more with the differences.

Felix announces, "Eat to your heart's merry! I might never treat again." He takes the first bite for courtesy's sake before telling everyone to join in.

The team laughs and Minho smiles, the skin by his eyes wrinkling and your heart stops to remember all the reasons you were so madly in love with this man. It is at this minute you realise it'll take you maybe a little longer than you thought, a little longer than a casual fling and a little lesser than a long term relationship. You should have known this is bound to happen the minute you allowed yourself to let your petty emotions take over.

And maybe, just maybe, it is the fact that you have to pretend to be alright with having Minho around you that makes this heartbreak pain ten times worse.

Surprisingly, Hyunjin already seems to know because he doesn't stop glancing at you after every bite of the slice he has in his hand.

You stretch your arm out to take a slice of the pepperoni pizza on the table at the same time Minho stretches his arms out to take one. Your fingers brush against his and you jolt your hand backwards, mumbling, "Sorry."

Jisung laughs without knowing and teases, "Why would you apologise for brushing your boyfriend's hand?" He takes a bite of his pizza and as soon as he finishes chewing, he continues, "I mean, you guys do nastier stuff and suddenly, you all are prim and proper, Y/N. Love the contrast you exhibit. It's beautiful. You guys could be at it every time I catch you in the gymnasium alone. Also, you're his longest relationship. You should pride yourself—"

Jisung is speaking and you won't look up. Hyunjin has dropped the knife slightly just to try and get him to stop, though in vain and Minho's looking at you. His eyes won't leave your frame and you just want to leave. It is too early for you to be alright with this. Way too early.

"Stop, Jisung," Chan tells him, reading the situation in the room.

"Why?" Jisung's laughing. Felix understands by now, seeing your face hung down and so does the rest of the team besides the man himself. You can't even come to be angry at Jisung because he seems so innocent, unaware of it all.

You spill the beans for your own heart's safety, "Minho broke up with me."

Minho doesn't shift his eyes at anyone else and Hyunjin holds the knife again, a little too tight this time. Jisung's smile turns instantly into a frown and he turns his head to glare at your now ex-boyfriend.

He doesn't bother to filter his words. "Why the fuck did you do that, you arsehole?" Minho turns to look at Jisung for a split second before his eyes are back at yours. You lift your head to lock gaze with him and you feel your chest tighten, eyes water and it hurts.

Everything seems so much more painful.

Chan says once again, his voice firm, ready to not listen to one more word of the conversation, "Stop it, Jisung. Read the room."

You stretch your arm out to have another bite of the pizza and everyone eats in silence. The room is pregnant with the most awkward silence you had been in your whole life. You take your phone out, unlocking it and finally replying to the message.

Jisung puts another slice of pizza onto your plate and you smile at him. Felix tries breaking the uneasy tension by talking about this dude he met in his neighborhood that was kind of cute. After sitting for another two minutes, you push your chair back to Jisung's surprise and stand up. Hyunjin stands up instinctively, his calves pushing his chair back and everyone at the table looks at the two of you.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

"I just realised I have to do some grocery shopping," you laugh nervously. "There's absolutely nothing back at home. Not that Hyunjin would buy anything and keep, right?"

Hyunjin chuckles and everyone in the room knows quite obviously that you are trying to escape the scene. They are kind enough to let you. Felix asks, spilling the oregano seasonings on top of his pizza slice, "Is Hyunjin going with you?"

"Ye—"

"No," you cut your best friend before he can give his approval. "I'll go alone." You stretch your arm out, palm facing upwards, "Keys, please?"

"Don't hurt my baby," Hyunjin's sincerity is voiced and you laugh genuinely. Little did you know he meant both you and his motorbike. He drops the key to his motorbike onto your hand and you do a little cheer. Jisung mumbles, "Cute," before stuffing his face with pizzas.

"Have a good time, guys," you wish them and grab your bag, hanging on the chair. Jisung waves enthusiastically. Felix, Chan and the rest of the team waves too. You smile fondly at your team and walk towards the door only to find Hyunjin following you.

"What do you think you are doing right now, mister?"

"Can't I walk you out at the very least, woman?" Hyunjin gapes in dismay. He pulls open the glass door and you laugh.

"Sure thing," you say and walk towards his motorbike. Hyunjin leaves the door after stepping out, the glass door swinging back to shut itself. You swing your legs over his bike, straddling the automobile and dropping your chest slightly to balance the heavy vehicle.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Don't you trust your teaching? You taught me how to ride this thing. Don't worry."

You look over Hyunjin's shoulder to see Minho still looking at you, worry smeared all over his face and you feel your throat constricting again as you do your best to tear your eyes away from him.

Hyunjin takes a step closer, making sure everything's alright with the vehicle so that it doesn't endanger you. He places his hand over your wrist and you look at him in confusion, "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," you laugh. "What are you? My daddy?"

Hyunjin stiffens for a minute before he lets go of all the inappropriate thoughts that fill him for a minute there before teasing you, "Do you want me to be your daddy?"

"Nah," you throw your head back. "You aren't that rich enough." You place the helmet over your head and look at him. Hyunjin taps your helmet and hugs you slightly.

"I'll see you at home."

You start the bike on ignition and look over Hyunjin's shoulder one last time to look at Minho, locking gazes with him before you pull yours away from him towards Hyunjin.

You look ahead, the clear road in front of you and turn the accelerator only after telling Hyunjin, giggling slightly,

"Sure thing, Daddy."

Hyunjin, on the other hand, is too caught up in his worry, eyes lingering behind the trailing presence of yours that finally disappears from his sight into a speck that fades away. In any other circumstances, he would have found your petite figure driving the huge motorcycle and you even calling him daddy, although in a teasing tone, insanely hot.

Right now, however, he just hopes you are safe. He wishes he could be by your side at every second.

Gaho's Stay Here blasts on the bluetooth speaker. Hyunjin pulls open the door only to find you lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling with the most emotionless face he has ever seen you with. His eyes dart towards the empty bottles of soju on the small table in the hall.

"Y/N?"

You sit up, looking at your best friend and your lip pucker out quickly pouting at the sight of him and you stretch your arms out wide, squealing, "Hyunjinnie. You are home."

Hyunjin walks towards you, plopping on the couch and sitting next to you. He quickly lifts his arm up, hand darting back and forth at the air to steer the smell away as he frowns at you, "You reek of liquor, dude."

You quickly hug him, wrapping your arms around his frame from the side and snuggling your face into his shoulder. Hyunjin stiffens under your grip and he looks down at your being with eyes closed and he realises that you might after all just be a small being in need of some loving. He wishes to be the person to do that. Hwang Hyunjin utterly and truly wants to be your person.

Hyunjin takes your phone to stop playing the music — Stay Here that's been currently playing on repeat for the twentieth time straight — and you whine against his skin, tickles running down Hyunjin's spine.

"Don't stop the music," you mumble and Hyunjin looks at you and your figure that hugs him securely, head snuggled by his neck, chin digging into the skin by his collarbone and all Hyunjin can focus on is his heart that is beating furiously against his chest.

"Y/N," Hyunjin's voice seems like an anchor to your woozy mind and you hug him tighter, gripping stronger on to his white shirt. You hum in response and Hyunjin continues, "Gaho's music doesn't seem very fitting for the minute."

You pull apart, your face morphing and changing into that of offense as you glare at him, mumbling, "Gaho is the only one that understands me." You play the music again, the bluetooth speakers blasting with the sad slow tune in the air and you feel the want to cry all over again.

You stretch your arm out to take a soju bottle from the table to down it all out when Hyunjin stretches out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. He locks his eyes with yours and in the softest, most caring voice you've ever heard from him, he says, "Don't, Y/N. It hurts me too."

"Can I hold you?"

In a split moment, the room is filled with just the soft beats of Gaho's Start Over playing, your raspy breaths and Hyunjin's lost stare. His grip on your wrist tightens and your mind is far too intoxicated to think if this friendship could be ruined. Your heart is heavy, chest tight and you want someone to free you. Anyone. You are clawing at the imaginary wall all by yourself and anyone could be a help. Anyone that is not Lee Minho.

"Yes," and you fall on Hyunjin at the exact same moment he pulls your hand closer towards him. The timing seems to have lapsed on to each other. Your chest on Hyunjin's, eyes looking up at him as your arms snake slowly over his torso. You snuggle forward, rubbing against his body slightly and Hyunjin sighs.

To Hyunjin, the scene is a lot dramatic just because of the soft music playing and because you are drunk off your head according to him, barely able to make decisions. He just doesn't want to do anything that will make either of your friendships but right now, in this minute with you almost on top of him, locking your eyes in his, your arms around his torso, close enough to feel every part of your being, he wants to be drunk too.

Hyunjin wants to be drunk so that he can make a mistake. Hyunjin wants to be so drunk that he can't think just because he is a coward.

"Do you feel better?" He asks and you snuggle into his chest, burying your face into it as you hold him. Your lonely heart being comforted by just his presence and in the back of your drunk head, you know you feel a little bit more that causes your heart to flutter when Hyunjin cares.

You and Hyunjin are both cowards — two small people in this big world with big emotions unwilling to risk one status for another, over the fear of losing each other.

But Hyunjin wants to risk it tonight. After years of pining, he wants to risk this golden friendship he has shared with you for years now. You are the trigger, however. You lift your face away from his chest and crawl slightly towards him, pushing yourself against him. You look at him, lips pressed together and you stretch your right arm upwards to hold his face in your hand.

"Jinnie," your voice lets out his name in such an airy tone that it seems to disappear away even before it reaches his ear. His eyes are glassy and his heart is in his throat, eager in nothing but anticipation that is risen from all his hoping.

It happens as he has imagined. You lean forward so slowly that he pictures every second vividly and in an instant, your lips are on his. Hyunjin knows it should have felt wrong but God, save him — nothing felt more right than this.

You kiss him and his whole world falls away. It lingers, like a memory that stays behind. Your lips are slow and soft against him, comforting yourself and him in ways that words would never be. Hyunjin's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss. Something so small and insignificant to seemingly anyone else yet it means the whole world to Hyunjin. It is the whole world to Hyunjin because this is all that is needed to let him astray, hinge released of the stupid restrictions he has made up in his head over you.

Your small kiss is all Hyunjin needs to hold on to because in the next minute, he is pulling you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your coral ones. You let out a small gasp and run your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you and you can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute.

Hyunjin's lips are slammed against yours, nearly knocking all wind from your lungs and you don't know if it is your feelings or Hyunjin himself. He presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth. Hyunjin kisses you like he thinks it is the last time he will ever be able to have his lips against yours.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. In an instant, you pull away and arch up into his broad chest, moaning in the contact of body heat against your own, before you draw back into his lips. Hyunjin can feel the burn of hard soju in his mouth, thanks to you, and it rolls off your tongue into his, seeping down his throat and he can't hate it. There is a thrill in its own that Hyunjin knows stems from you.

If it was possible, Hyunjin would slow down time.

You pull back eventually only to hug him, humming against his neck, lips pressed against the soft expanse of his skin. Hyunjin's hand is pressed against your back as he pats you in a steady rhythm, instinctively humming to a tune that could calm you.

"Jinnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," and he feels your weight fall on to his shoulder as you snuggle closer into his neck, your warm breath fanning against him, sending shivers down his spine. "For everything."

Hyunjin holds you for a while, silence and nothing but your breathing that is soft music to his ears, till he hears your soft snores buzzing against his eardrums and he knows you have fallen asleep in his arms, against his chest.

The next morning, you find yourself magically in your bed, comforter on top of you covering every inch of you, head aching thanks to your reckless drinking last night with no memory of whatsoever that happened. Lightheaded you should have known better.

Hyunjin chooses to be a coward, the morning after.

The greens that cover the campus is the only other thing that keeps you sane in this university. The first being, the volleyball team. However, you don't know anymore if it is still, in the present.

You sit on the same bench before a beautiful fountain with a tiger head right in the centre, watching the vast basketball court. A place that holds way more memories to you now than it did a year before.

You shake your legs, feet pointing forward as you listen to music with about half an hour in your hand to waste before you head down towards the gymnasium to meet with the volleyball team. Besides few people that walk down towards their classes, the campus looks pretty stranded as you watch every single person stay happy in their sphere.

"Y/N," you hear your name being called out through yet another one of Gaho's songs and you lift your head up, to look at the person by your side, standing and providing you the shade they probably didn't intend to.

It's the man himself, the one who broke your heart for an explanation that made no sense to you. Lee Minho.

He stands tall, towering over you and your neck aches from looking up at him that you decide to stand up, removing the earbuds and placing it on the wooden bench, next to your phone.

"You're here." You gulp. "Aren't you supposed to be headed to the gym for practice?"

The fountain is everything you associate Minho with — moreover, it is perhaps the relationship with him that you associated the beautiful water fountain with. To see the very same man before you right now is needless to say surprising.

"I could ask you the same thing," Minho chuckles. He takes out a small cone of butterscotch ice cream and extends his arm, offering it to you. You smile softly, thanking him, sitting down back on the bench. "Can I sit here?" He asks and you nod, unwrapping the wrapping paper around the ice cream.

"Yeah," you tap on the seat by your side. You take a bite of your ice cream and Minho visibly flinches, mumbling, "Still the same."

"You broke up with me like two days back. What did you expect? A nirvana attained me?" You scoff. You take another bite of the ice cream, the sensitivity hitting your teeth and you hiss.

"Brutal," Minho chuckles darkly. You scoff, turning your head away and taking another bite of your ice cream. Minho opens his ice cream and you raise an eyebrow at him, mumbling, "You don't eat ice cream though."

"Thought you might want another one," he smiles and the thought of a second ice cream lights you up. "There you go smiling like a dork as always at the thought of it." Minho laughs and you bend forward to take it, your left arm stretching forward. Minho tugs it backwards and your body moves a little more to grab at it until it's too far for you, bringing you to your present position.

Your hand is on Minho's chest, his eyes locked in yours and you are surprised. This is not in your to do list and yet with Minho's grip on your wrist, you drop your ice cream as soon as he edges closer. His face is so close that you can see the perfect plump lips pout slightly, his face glistening in the bright sun and you gasp softly. It has been a while since he has been this close and he still makes your heart go livid within you, beating crazy.

He drops his ice cream in a second, his hands pressing forward to cup your face and pull you into him to kiss the living hell out of you. Your eyes widen, arms falling limp on either side as you stiffen.

"Can I try something?" He hesitates, iron grip on you.

"Try?" You look worried and the next minute, Minho is kissing you, his plump lips on yours for a while before he moves them against yours, taking hold of your lower lip.

It is an instinct. You choose to blame it rather on instincts. Your hand moves to grab the linen draping his arm as you hold it and kiss Minho back. It is as bitter as coffee thanks to all the memories that go along with it and yet — you find yourself drowning. You find yourself wanting more. You find yourself hoping if Minho could stay, if Minho could just pretend to love you, if not.

And it breaks your heart.

All over again.

A lone tear leaves your eyes and then another, till you are crying as you kiss him. A wet messy affair at its finest. Minho pulls back in surprise feeling the wetness against his skin. He cups your face and holds you, looking at you to check for damage — little does he know of the emotional one. Or maybe he does and he chooses to ignore. Typical Lee Minho.

"Did I hurt you?"

Your emotions take over, sanity pushed to the back. You are pulling yourself from Minho as he tries to hold you to calm you down. Your fist plummets down onto his hard chest once and then, for the second time till you are hitting him over and over again till you completely break down in front of him. Minho quickly pulls you into a hug, holding you close till you completely soak his white shirt with your tears.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—" It's a repeated chant. Over and over again till you don't remember how many times you told Minho the same thing. Your mind goes insane with the overdrive of emotions. Did you like Minho still? You don't know. You don't know whether it's the familiarity of his hugs or his kisses or his whole presence that you crave or if it's his love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and you accept because it's the first time an apology from Lee Minho sounded this sincere. "I'm sorry for breaking your heart." He snuggles into the crook of your neck, swallowed by guilt. Perhaps this is why one should never date their friends; because you lose something much greater.

"I hate you more now for kissing me here," you manage to say, throat rasp from the crying. "How could you stain this memory too? How dare you stain the memory of the location of our first kiss? It was supposed to be a bittersweet memory when I sit here and think." Minho is still hugging you.

"I'm sorry."

It is still bittersweet in a new way, you realise — the fact that Lee Minho kisses you for the last time, you swear to God, in the very same place he kissed you for the first time. The weather changed, the people around changed and the emotions changed. Even after all that, the fountain stays proud and mighty and bears witness to more new relationships and new heartbreaks. Nothing changes besides you. Nothing changes besides what we want.

You pull away from him. Sitting straight, facing the vast basketball court and the juniors playing the game, you make a decision, firm and determined. The soft pink petals fall down from the cherry blossom trees over the two of you and Minho looks at you, and then at the spilled ice cream. To see the boughs that were so bereft in the snow become so beautifully adorned should lift your spirits infinitely and it does slightly. Their scents diffuse in the warming breeze and you hold your head high to savour it.

"Let's stay away from each other for a while."

Minho's eyes shoot up, head lifting up to face you. He does not refute. After all, he knows he has to take a step behind after breaking your heart. What he does not understand is how the two of you could stay away from each other when your friend circles overlap to a large extent.

"How?" He finally asks. "How do I help you with that?"

"By doing just that. Give me space and time to get over you. I'll come back asking for your hand in friendship again," you smile. Your tear stained visage and the difficult smile you put forth is a funny combination but you manage to pull it off well, you'd say. "You don't have to take the first step this time. Let me do this on my own, Minho."

You stand up on your own, grabbing your earphones and your phone. Minho stands up, following suit and asks, "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," you turn only to look at him as you walk backwards. "And you have to head for practice. So get going. I won't have you mess up your performance by all means." You turn back and move ahead. From everything.

"You know I wouldn't," Minho screams back and the last syllable ends with a laugh. You lift your hand to wave and you leave, far, far away from him.

You now have an open wound to stitch back and you know you have to do it on your own.

Hyunjin's phone rings right when he decides to serve the ball. He drops the ball in surprise, the sphere rolling all the way to where his phone is placed. Chan groans, stopping his pace at the sound of the phone ringing, and yells, "Yah! Hyunjin, how many times should I tell you to switch off your phone?"

Felix walks in exactly at that minute, laughing, "Anyone from outside would totally think Chan's the captain!"

Hyunjin runs to his phone, his blond hair strands falling forward, ponytail swinging left and right. Felix laughs at the sight, walking towards the ball and picking it up before throwing it at Chan who catches it swiftly. Hyunjin sees your name on the phone, eyes lighting up instantly and a smile prominent only for Chan to announce, "It's Y/N."

"Of course, it is," Felix scoffs. "Where's the rest of the guys? I thought you said we were to come early—" Felix pauses, eyes widening and gasping, "Hold up! Y/N is late. Whoa!"

"They are probably running towards the gym right now," Hyunjin says before picking up the call. He mouths to the rest, "It'll be short, I promise," and pouts. Chan sighs, only to smile and wave his hand at him to take the call.

"Y/N," Hyunjin cheers up instantly. "Where are—" He hears a choked sob from the other hand and Hyunjin stiffens, face losing the smiling in a second. "Are you alright?"

"I am," you strain it out. You barely manage through with the chokes and that pain that ripples through in waves but you eventually find the words to tell him, "I won't make it to practice today. Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

Hyunjin is angry and he doesn't even know who it is aimed at. He is just beyond mad at the fact that you are crying and someone made you cry. The thought of the skin by your eyes aching and eyes red and burning over anyone made him so angry that he could punch a wall through.

"I'm not telling you," he hears you say and he clenches his fist.

"Stop being a brat, Y/N," he stresses and Chan gestures at him, asking if there was something wrong. Hyunjin nods. "Where are you?"

"Leave me alone, Jinnie," you tell him through the phone, "Please," and his eyes widen before he calms himself down, realising that you are trying to cope all alone, a pathetic self-destructive quirk of yours that he had learned to live with after all these years. He gulps and realises you truly needed time alone and he hums in approval.

"Please reach out to me when you need me," he begs. "Please, Y/N."

Felix and Chan are staring at Hyunjin in worry when the door to the gymnasium opens and Jisung rushes into the room. He is panting and he looks around, searching for someone. Hyunjin turns away, his attention back on the call in his hands and he ends the call quickly, making a note in his mind to check up on you after practise. Not that you would let him miss practise. (Not that Hyunjin would do it to himself in the first place. He'd kill for volleyball.)

He walks towards the rest when Minho walks in, black duffel bag on his shoulder. Jisung is quick on his feet as he runs towards the other man, hands on his shoulders and he shakes the living hell out of him.

"He's gone crazy, dude," Felix mumbles and Chan laughs.

Hyunjin stays at a comfortable distance still, looking at his phone in worry every now and then. The man lifts his head and brings his attention back to the present only when he hears your name leave Jisung's mouth.

"Whoa, dude. You got back together with Y/N?"

"What?" Chan is the first to respond. "You did what?"

"I didn't get back together with her," Minho says, his voice is monotone and lacks anything more than nonchalance and it pisses the hell out of Hyunjin who has his fists still clenched tightly.

"I saw you kissing her but. . ." Jisung drops the bomb all at once in such a lost way that he doesn't realise the impact it was to have in this large gymnasium.

Hyunjin is charging forwards all at once, yelling, "You bastard," as he throws a punch at Minho. The blond dyed man is quick to put two and two together and realise that you are after all, crying because of the black haired man before him.

He pushes him back, Minho hitting the floor and Hyunjin's on top of him, punching him with his clenched fist, mind void and painted in hot red anger. Minho has his arms, blocking his punches and chooses to play on the defensive side.

In fear, we are all monsters. Hyunjin believes that he would be afraid of himself had he astral projected and looked at himself in this minute, all unhinged because of one girl — one girl he would set the world on fire for.

All that rage comes out faster than magma for Hyunjin and is just as destructive. More so because he's the captain. It consumes all that he is, so delicate under that carefully ordered world and carefully put up feign that he is alright with Minho breaking the heart of the girl he loves. Minho shrivels before him but Hyunjin does not stop. He relentlessly keeps going, stopping short of physical violence but doing far more damage with the words that he throws.

Chan tries to pull Hyunjin away as Jisung drags Minho from underneath him. The black haired man is left with bruises and a busted lip. On the other hand, Hyunjin is still fuming, along with Chan, sporting a few cuts from Minho who decided to throw a few punches in the last moment.

"Can you all stop?" Felix sighs.

"Why would you bastard make her cry again?" Hyunjin raises his voice. He's yelling at this point, loud enough for everyone passing by the gymnasium to hear. "Why the fuck would you make Y/N cry again? I told you to leave her alone!"

"This wouldn't have happened if things went different—" Hyunjin tries to rush forward to hit him again upon hearing his words, but Chan and Changbin, another teammate, have a strong grip on him. His blond ponytail lashes in anger and he fights against the two, trying to let go of himself. Minho yells back, "I would have never broken up with her if you never liked her, Hyunjin."

"What?" He stops still in his tracks, limbs falling and Chan lets go.

"How am I supposed to think it's alright for you to randomly stare at my girlfriend with heart eyes? For fuck's sake, you guys hug way more than I hug her," Minho glares, chest rising up as he vents everything he has bottled up so far. "If you had always liked her, you should have told me! I shouldn't have overheard it from Chan telling you to ask her out." Chan's face pales visibly. "I would have tried making her stay. I would have made her stay. I would have," Minho's voice lowers. "I still did, but I was too late."

Hyunjin has no words to refute. His eyes widen and his heart is in his throat, barely being able to say, "You could have taken it out on me. Why would you drag her into this? She loved you. She still wavers because of you. Your faithless love was the only hoax she was forced to believe."

Jisung pouts in awe at the words Hyunjin spills and Minho mumbles, "I don't know. I couldn't think straight."

Felix drops the ball with force, suddenly. The ball squelches before raising high and hitting the wall with impact. He folds his arms and speaks up, "Stop acting like kids." He points at Minho. "You, stop putting the blame of your failed relationship on Hyunjin. Him liking Y/N did not ruin your relationship. You killed it yourself."

"But he—"

"I liked her even before you made a move on her. Nothing has changed, Minho," Hyunjin inhales sharply.

"It's because you're a coward, you arsehole."

Hyunjin closes his eyes, looking away, mumbling, "Not going to even bother denying that. I'd be dating her if I wasn't this scared of losing her."

Felix proceeds to point at Hyunjin, glaring sharply at him, "You call yourself a captain? We have a match in a few days and you decide to lose control and beat up your teammate? One of the best middle blockers out there! What in the world are you thinking, Hyunjin? Jesus Christ, when Y/N hears of this, she's going to beat you up so bad for doing this to him in the name of the team."

Hyunjin doesn't dare to look up at Felix, shuffling the balance of his body from one feet to another. He is embarrassed. He should have never let his emotions take control of his body and yet he did.

Chan walks towards Felix before announcing, "We'll start practice in five. I want the two of you to sort this out by the end of this day. If you haven't, I don't want either of you coming to practice tomorrow."

"I'm the setter!" Hyunjin protests.

"Jeongin can do a darn good job too, so shut up and listen to me well."

"Now," Felix claps his hand, smiling once again brightly before running to pick up the ball. "Let's practice like the perfect team we are!"

"And like I couldn't stop myself. It's like something dragged me to move forward and the next thing I knew, I was on top of Minho—"

"Fuck, that'd be hot."

"Y/N, focus. And like I was beating the crap out of him."

You dab an alcoholic swab over the small wounds on his face as he seethes in pain and you sneer, "Deserved it."

"Ouch," Hyunjin fakes offense. "Side with me at least now. You aren't dating him anymore." You stop, your hand midair and you dab constantly over his wounds till Hyunjins screaming, "Ow, ow, ow. I'm sorry," and holds your wrist and pulls it away.

"But you messed up your team dynamics just because of your anger," you frown. "You and Minho better sort it out quickly, Jinnie. Else, I swear to God." You glare at him.

"What will you do?" Hyunjin laughs, scrunching his nose and teasing you. You place the bandaids over the wounds and raise an eyebrow. Hyunjin prompts, "Bite me?"

"I will," you warn and Hyunjin scoffs, "As if."

You bite him. His shoulder, to be exact. Your teeth hold onto his socket for a good one minute tightly till he is yelping, hitting your back to let go of him as he hisses in pain. You let go of him and narrow your eyes at him. Hyunjin is shocked. So shocked that he blankly stares at you with his mouth wide open.

"Are you a dog?"

"I could be one if you taunt me too much."

"Wow," he blinks and you poke the insides of your cheek with your tongue. "Wow, you're truly one of a kind." And Hyunjin breaks down laughing, holding his shoulder with his hand and bending forward overcome by intense laughter.

"Buy me mint choco," he prompts. "Because now you injured me and I want compensation."

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin pushes himself forward, edging closer to you, looking you in your eyes before saying, "You know you have to," in a low guttural tone that your heart does a whole somersault, triple axle and then lands with an ovation. "You hurt me."

You push him away and you leap onto your feet, your eyes wide and your hand over your chest. Hyunjin looks at you with a raised eyebrow. To change the mood of the situation, you quickly announce, "Fine. You'll get mint chocolate only if you get ready and come out in five minutes. Else you pay for it on your own."

Hyunjin stands up and holding your wrist, he pulls you with him to the door. You look at him in utter confusion and ask, "What are you doing?"

Hyunjin stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, blond strands leaving his ponytail to cover his eyes slightly and pink lips so plump that you wonder how they feel. The realisation that you have started viewing your best friend as someone more than just that hits you and you look down instantly. When did this happen?

"I'll just wear a coat and so should you," Hyunjin laughs. "Ice cream can't wait."

People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth more often than not, but when Hyunjin laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh is in his eyes, in the way his face changes into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. And yet, in all honesty, it is not in his face either. His laugh comes from within, it is just the way he is wired with the instant ability to comfort someone. Just the sound of his gales, his snickers, his giggles, was enough to transport you far away from all your worries and the tension your life has in the minute.

Enough to make you forget that you have to tell him today about the decision you have taken.

Hyunjin and you walk down the stairs and off onto the road in five minutes as planned. The cool air of the night hits you and you hold yourself closer, the long coat held tightly to your body surface. Hyunjin laughs before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close by just a little bit and yet enough to share his body warmth.

"Mint choco, here we come!" And he runs with you.

The thing with your stupid heart is that you don't understand why it is beating so rapidly in this moment, your heart beat easily jumping to more than 95bpm and all because Hyunjin holds you. You look at the man by your side, his blond hair moving with the air, exposing his face and you wonder — had Hwang Hyunjin always been this beautiful?

You have known Hyunjin for a long time now. Too long for you to realise that your heart had a change in its plans for emotions recently. You have known Hyunjin way too long to know that you want him for a lifetime by your side, as a best friend at the very least and the thought that if you did act upon your new emotions that you have just discovered in this cold, breezy night, you are screwed.

Hyunjin turns to look back at you after hearing absolutely no sound from you. His face pales when he realises you are looking far ahead and he wonders if you do remember now. If you remember the drunk night.

So he asks to put himself at ease, "Y/N?"

"Huh?" You jolt up to consciousness, looking properly at Hyunjin. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember the night a few days back?"

"Night? Few days back?" You ponder. "When I was drunk?"

"Yeah," Hyunjin mumbles and you raise your body in anticipation, finally wanting to ask about the magical teleportation.

"Now that we are on this topic," you fold your arms and raise your eyebrows at your best friend. Hyunjin shuffles his balance from his left to his right. "Did you carry me to bed that night?"

Hyunjin chokes on air, sputtering out incoherent words before finally forming one proper sentence, "You knew?"

"You're the only other person I live with and I don't have any recollection of going to bed so like I presumed," you look down, heat rising to your cheek and you fidget with your fingers. "That you carried me to bed."

"That's all that you remember?"

You lift your head up, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, "Is there more?"

"Uh," Hyunjin turns back to face forward, his broad back in your vision again as he walks forward to the ice cream parlour by the junction.

"Hyunjin?" He walks quicker. "Yah! Hwang Hyunjin!" You follow him with quick, short strides, almost jogging up to him. "What did I do, Jinnie?" He opens the glass door to the ice cream parlour. "Yah, Hwang Hyunjin, tell me no matter how embarrassing it is." You follow him into the white aesthetically pretty place.

You finally catch hold of his coat and tug at it. Hyunjin turns, his cheeks flushed and you wonder what in the world happened that night. Yes, you have vague memories of hugging Hyunjin and passing out, but for him to act like this — wait, you didn't empty your stomach out on him, did you?

"Did I—" Hyunjin's eyes widens. He turns back, his attention on the man behind the counter and he points towards you.

"She's paying."

"Okay," the man nods and turns to look at you, waiting for your order. You sigh, glaring at your best friend before ordering one quantity of mint chocolate ice cream. Your eyes waver to the green ice cream and you frown in displeasure, something Hyunjin catches sight of your expression.

"How dare you?" He folds his arms, dramatically. "The only people that matter in this world are the one that like mint chocolate." The man at the counter smiles at the two of you.

You open your mouth, clicking your tongue, "I'm not paying money to eat toothpaste."

The man behind the counter laughs out loud and Hyunjin glares at him, scoffing. He takes the ice cream from his hand and waits for you to pay. The tall man looks at the two of you, again, before finally telling, "Good luck on your relationship. It's always fun to see couples have an argument over mint chocolate and still be so in love with each other." He turns to look at Hyunjin only, "For your information, I like mint chocolate."

Both Hyunjin and you look at each other, either of you waiting for the other person to disagree with the man but there is just silence. You can feel Hyunjin looking at you through the corners, waiting for you to refute like you always do. You don't and you do not even know why. The heat builds up beneath the apples of your cheek and the thought of being in a relationship with your best friend strangely brings about a wave of calmness within you, doing its best to shove the uncertainty of so many things away.

"Thank you for the ice cream," you say and walk to an empty table. Hyunjin thanks the man too, and follows you, sitting on the seat opposite to you and places the mint chocolate in between.

He watches you, unsure of the situation and you bite your lower lip nervously before shoving the cup closer to him and mumbling, "Eat. We came all the way here for you."

"You should have gotten another ice cream," Hyunjin frowns.

"It's past nine," you laugh, your hair falling over the chair as you lean back. "I can't let fat into my body after nine. You know that."

"Why do I know you?" Hyunjin puts his hand on his forehead looking at you and then he pushes the cup of ice cream towards your side. "Disappointment." You look at your best friend, disgusted and he won't take the disrespect though.

"It's a refreshing taste," he digs in and takes a big bite. "Plus, it's the right balance." He lifts the spoon with a small amount of the mint ice cream and shoves it right in front of your face. "The perfect amount of mint, chocolate and milk to make the world's most perfect ice cream."

You push his hand away and glare, "Why would you ruin two beautiful sweets," you raise an eyebrow, "Chocolate and ice cream by including," you fake a gag, "Mint?"

"Because mint balances the sweetness of the chocolate," he scoffs. "All you mediocre people won't understand. Mint chocolate was created for the elite class."

"Did you just call me mediocre?" your jaw drops and Hyunjin laughs. It's soft, airy and so carefree that you don't mind the fact that he is laughing at you and not with you. You don't mind one bit when you break down and laugh with him, unable to keep your face straight as you lean forward on the table, your head resting on your hands and you watch Hyunjin.

You decide to tell him of your decision in this minute.

"I'm going to make Seungmin manage the team," you tell Hyunjin and he stares at you, the spoon dropping from his hand and clattering against the glass rim of the ice cream cup. You continue, "He's always wanted to manage the volleyball team and I thought I should let him—"

"Why?" He sounds hurt. Disappointed, in fact and your heart plummets down.

"I thought it's time to move on."

"From the team or Minho?"

"Minho," you say, nibbling on your lower teeth. "I want to go back to him—"

"What?" Hyunjin feels his heart sink.

"Don't cut me off, hoe," you click your tongue. "I want to go back to him and be his friend. I'm not ready to ruin a friendship over this. I just won't."

Hyunjin looks down at his cup of ice cream. His spoon digs into the cold dessert over and over again till he realises that he'll do what he has always done for you — be right by your side as your pillar.

"Feed me," Hyunjin prompts and you stare at him with a void expression, mouth still open, wondering if he suggested this only and only to change the topic. Hyunjin stretches his arm out to shut your mouth. "People are going to think I'm starving you here."

"Whoa." You lift your head up. "And if I do that, people are going to think we're possibly the cutest couple out there still in our glorious honeymoon phase of it."

"Okay," Hyunjin shrugs and leans back against the chair, folding his arms against each other.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with that."

You sit up straight and look down before finally saying, "Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Those words that make my heart flutter. I don't know what to feel, Hyunjin." Hyunjin is too stunned to react and whine over the fact that you called him properly by his name in your conversation. The fact that he too can cause your heart to race a little bit just like you have with his all these years. "Don't say them to me if you won't ever be ready to take responsibility over them."

You place your thumb and forefinger on your forehead, squeezing the skin slightly to calm the slight ache you can feel, the vein throbbing slightly and you know it is your anxiety that kicks in because you almost spilled everything out. You quickly stand up and holding your coat tightly, you look at Hyunjin who is still seated and looking at you intently.

"I need to go to the pharmacy next door. I'll wait for you there. Finish your ice cream and come."

You don't turn to look at Hyunjin as you walk out, slightly embarrassed by your own behaviour. Between you and Hyunjin, you are the one who had to keep your cool, making sure you didn't slip up or make a mess so that you could at least have time to clean his spilt milk.

You push the door of the ice cream parlour and walk out, the doorbell ringing at your push and you hold yourself in the cold breeze. If Hyunjin did not respond to it, it is only safe to presume that he feels nothing more towards you. You could at least put two and two together. Or so you thought till Hyunjin is chasing after you, big strides and dark blond hair in the wind as his rubber band comes loose and slides off a bit.

"Y/N!" He shouts and quickly holds your wrist, pulling you so quickly that you stumble forward into him. Hyunjin grips your arms to steady you and he looks at you, his brown eyes trying to peep into your soul. He smiles, hand running through his hair only to bring more strands forward, covering his vision.

Falling in love with Hwang Hyunjin, you realise, is the easy part. He makes it so easy to fall for him — when he smiles at the sun, covering his eyes or when he is covered by the dogs in dog parks all eager to hug him because that's how he just is. You don't even realise when you fall for Hyunjin but when you do, you know you are already sinking and you are far too gone for saving.

It is, however, admitting to yourself that you fell for your best friend that is hard. The Hwang Hyunjin that you have seen since the five year old boy moved next door to you. The Hwang Hyunjin that would cross dress in your clothes. The Hwang Hyunjin that would steal your dumplings. It is the same Hwang Hyunjin that you fall for. You had all these doors with specifications that opened to only men like Lee Minho and yet like the rude asshole that you oh so adorably love he seemed to tear them down. Or perhaps those doors were meant for others and Hyunjin always had a door of his own for your heart.

You should have asked yourself why but would it have really mattered? You're here with Hyunjin by your side, whether he knows your feelings or not and you couldn't be any less glad, even if you are sometimes hiding, imagining a distance instead of seeing Hyunjin right there.

"I'll come back, Jinnie," you tell him, looking up at him and coughing slightly, trying to move back slightly to put some space between the two of you. "I'm not running away. I just need to buy some strips of paraceta—"

"I want to be responsible for them," His gaze doesn't leave yours. "I want to be responsible for you, your emotions and everything you are, if you let me."

You wouldn't dare to shift your eyes away, or focus on anything else. Just Hyunjin. Just your Hyunjin. Your heart beats so fast against your chest that you wonder if it ever had this much for any man or woman. And when Hyunjin pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around your frame, hand flat against your head that buries your face into his chest, you learn that Hwang Hyunjin's heartbeat is always your metronome — the beat your entire life seemed to have moved smoothly to.

You giggle against his chest, breaking into a smile, "Are you asking me out, Jinnie?"

"I guess," he chuckles into your hair, snuggling himself into you. He pulls you back to explain. "My original plan was to ask you out after the practice match that I'll make sure we win, but you could possibly not be there as our manager and what if I miss the chance?"

"You lovesick boy," you laugh, smiling stupidly at him. Hyunjin cups your face and presses his forehead against yours.

"I've liked you for so long, Y/N," and you blush, lips pursed and you smile back, heart fluttering.

"Thank you," you press a kiss against his cheek.

"For what?"

"For being you and for always loving me."

Hwang Hyunjin holds your face and kisses like he is capable of getting rid of all your worries, slowly bleeding into your marrows and cells and soaking you of the very essence he is. He holds you like you are a precious being — and to him, you are because he finally has you after all these years; he finally gets to call you his.

His lips are warm and tasted of mint; obviously from the mint chocolate ice cream earlier. His hands are wrapped around your waist and yours are locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. His strands of blond locks brush against your face, ticking you slightly and you giggle into the kiss. He laughs against your lips before kissing you slowly, drawing the kiss for as long as he could. When you break apart for air, you lean forward and rest your forehead against his, gathering some much needed oxygen. His smile tells you everything you need confirmation over and you smile back, sinking into his hold.

Hyunjin hugs with gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; yet it is the hug of a strong pair of arms that tells everything that you are - every fibre of your being - that he is with you, and you wonder how he is capable of that. How he is capable of holding like you are his whole world — like he rather hold you than anything else.

Hyunjin does exactly that. He holds you tight and close to him in this cold night, ignorant of everything else around the two of you, like you and him only mattered in the place, like you and him are fireworks in this velvet dark, the blaze that dares to light up the night.

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1dfangirls35 · 4 years ago

Text

The Language of Your Soul

An enemies to lovers ballet au in 5 acts

Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think

Banner: @booksncoffee

Act II

Sorry for the intermission guys but I’m back!

Warnings: This story (and chapter) will contain language, mentions of emotional abuse from a parent and eating disorders. Please read at your own discretion.

Eight Weeks Until Opening Night

Giselle's left hand grips the cool metal of the bar, her legs shaking uncontrollably beneath her -a result no doubt, of her five mile run this morning before rehearsals. Maybe that hadn't been the best idea after all.

Giselle hears Teagan enter the studio after her, announcing her entrance with the loud thud of her duffle bag hitting the floor. Giselle watches as Teagan grabs her pointe shoes out of the bag, taking a seat on the floor a few feet away from Giselle.

Giselle hates that Teagan has to be here, taking part in Giselle's solo rehearsals. The role of Odette was challenging enough- a true feat of technical perfection and stamina. She didn't need Teagan, the person who could snatch her dream role out from under her with just a few missteps, to watch her struggle through her early rehearsals. It makes Giselle feel like she is the prey, and Teagan is lurking in the shadows simply waiting for a moment of weakness to swoop in and swallow her up.

"How are rehearsals with Harry going?" Teagan asks, breaking the silence.

"Fine," Giselle responds shortly. But rehearsals are not going fine. They are an all-out disaster.

In the week and a half since the cast list had been announced, Giselle and Harry had yet to practice beyond their scheduled company rehearsals and it was showing. Giselle had tried on numerous occasions to suggest they work on the basics on their own but Harry had pushed it aside saying, "You've just got to know the choreography better." Giselle left every rehearsal feeling like a complete and utter failure- unworthy of dancing with the likes of Harry Styles.

"A dancer like that can make anyone look good," Teagan says with a tone that implies that Giselle needs some help "looking good". Giselle ignores the comment, instead, mentally running through the choreography for the Act II variation.

Anna Elliot interrupts Giselle's mental rehearsal as she enters the room. It's strange to see Anna in a black tracksuit instead of a leotard and tights, her dark black hair falling around her shoulders instead of pulled back into its usually neat bun. Her face looks tired; her usual bright smile absent. Giselle supposes it can't be easy for her to be on the other side of the stage, leading the rehearsal instead of dancing it.

"Ladies," she announces. "We are going to run through the Act II variation today. Giselle, you'll go first."

Giselle nods, pulling up the waistband of her white practice tutu as she positions herself upstage center in the studio. She tries to ignore Teagan's narrow eyes staring at her as the pianist begins to play.

As she dances Giselle thinks through each and every movement. Smooth développé, lifted attitude, airy bourrées. When she finishes her chaîné turns at the end of the variation, she exhales deeply- not realizing how much she had been holding her breath.

She looks towards Anna for approval. "Nicely done Giselle. Now I'd like you to work on those chaînés at the end. Really make sure they are tight and quick."

Giselle nods in understanding.

"But overall, beautiful execution of the choreography. We really just need to fine tune."

Giselle smiles smugly, glancing at Teagan who stands with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Teagan," Anna announces, gesturing for the understudy to take her stab at the variation. Giselle watches as Teagan runs the variation, but mentally she's thinking about all the things she could have done better in her own.

"Well done, Teagan. Now your attitudes were a little sloppy, let's work on really lengthening that back leg and lifting your chest okay?" Teagan nods. "But I loved the emotion that you put into your dancing. Giselle?" Anna calls, grabbing her attention. "Did you notice the emotion that Teagan puts into her movements? It's something that I'd like you to work on incorporating into your variation. The audience needs to feel what Odette is feeling through you. Let's do it from the top."

Giselle runs the routine again. She tries to 'portray the emotion' like Anna wants, but instead her heads caught up in executing her turns and keeping her arms sharp. When she ends the variation, Anna looks over at her with disappointed eyes. "More" is all she says.

Giselle runs it again. And another time. And each time, Anna tells her it is not enough. That Giselle needs to embrace being Odette. That the audience needs to understand the pain of her being trapped in this body of a swan with no escape.

"Teagan, why don't you run again. Giselle pay close attention this time."

Giselle feels her frustration grow as she watches Teagan again. Teagan's movements are still sloppy, and she messes up the step-over turns at the end, but when she finishes Anna looks over at Giselle like they've just watched the most magnificent performance. "That is the emotion I need to see Giselle."

Anna looks down at her watch. "Well I think our rehearsal time is up for today. Keep working on that emotion Giselle, its a very important part of this ballet."

Giselle nods and smiles, but inside her guts are wrenching at the thought of this rehearsal getting back to her mother. She has to do better. She must.

******

If Harry had learned one thing in his time as a professional ballet dancer, it was that relationships and commitments were the hidden poison of a professional dancer's career. He'd watched many sets of partners fall in love, only to ruin their careers in the aftermath of their failed relationship.

That is why Harry chose to remain unattached. Well, the why he chose to accept anyway. He wasn't a man that ignored his needs, but a night with Harry Styles was just that- a night. No feelings and no attachments.

Take for example the girl he took home last week after the party for his addition to the company. What was her name again? Eliza, yes that's right. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Eliza. She was pretty, a fair conversationalist and perfectly good in bed. Harry had supposed she must even be a decent ballerina, considering she was a corps de ballet member at the American Ballet Theatre. But to Harry, Eliza had only been a nice shag and a body to fall asleep next to on a night when a bustling New York City felt a little too lonely.

Apparently, however, Harry had been less than clear with dear Eliza about this, because as Harry chats with the tall, auburn-haired dancer standing in front of him as they warm up for company class, he can see the daggers of jealousy emitting from Eliza's eyes. He doesn't know this girl's name, the new one, but he can already sense the desire wafting from her body. The way she's learning forward to be closer to him as she stretches. The way she's laughing theatrically with every word that Harry says. The way her eyes are lingering on his lips for just a second too long as he speaks. He's beginning to think she might be a little much for him and makes a mental note to choose a different spot at the barre for tomorrow's company class.

He knows he's in trouble when the second the reverence ends, Eliza rushes over to him with and without saying a word slaps him across the cheek with more force than he thought possible out of her thin little arms.

Harry's skin stings from the blow, the corner of his eye watering ever so slightly. He presses a hand to the injured tissue in response to the attack. But this is not the first time Harry's received such an offense, and it likely won't be the last.

"So what are you just jumping on to the next one?" she shrieks. Harry looks around the room, noticing that people have stopped packing up their things and are now staring at him like he's a caged animal at the zoo.

"I'm sorry love, I'm not sure what you mean," Harry says in a low voice, hoping to signal to this highly emotional girl that this was not the time nor the place to have a reaction like this.

His words, however, appear to have the opposite effect because he watches her eyes flair with a new burst of anguish.

"Rachel!" the girl shouts, as if Harry has the foggiest idea who Rachel is. "Everyone in the room could see how much she was flirting with you. Did last weekend mean nothing to you?!" Eliza's thrown her hands up now, gesturing wildly in a way that's anything but graceful. "You said you would call and you never did."

Harry glances at his audience. Mistress Ivanova is standing in the corner with her arms crossed, looking less than pleased. He grabs Eliza's arm, pulling her towards the door and into the hallway. "Let's take this outside."

When they stop in the hallway, dancers bustling past them on the way to their next rehearsal. Eliza looks up at him. Her brown eyes are tinged with red and Harry wonders if she's about to cry. He'd made a mistake with this one clearly. She was too emotional. Too clingy. Too easily attached. "I never said I would call." Harry says softly, trying to keep his voice calm but firm.

"But you said you had a 'lovely time last night. Thank you.' Eliza sniffles.

She isn't wrong about that. Harry thought. And he did have a lovely time. He usually had a lovely time. But that certainly didn't mean he planned to repeat it. "I did have a lovely time Eliza." he begins, watching as her eyes flicker with something resembling hope. "But that doesn't mean I was going to call."

"It doesn't?" the girl sniffed, bringing her hand up to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

"Listen, love. I don't do dating. I don't do commitments. I don't do relationships. It's nothing against you. I'm certain you're a lovely girl. It's just..." Harry pauses. "How I do things."

Eliza looks at him wide-eyed, like Harry has just burst her forty-eight hour fantasy that they were going to run away together and travel the world and fall in love.

"I'm sorry if you got the impression that that was simply more than a one night thing. That was never my intention."

"Okay," she says timidly, and he can tell she's embarrassed. She shouldn't be- she wasn't the first girl to react like this. Harry seemed to draw admirers to him like mosquitos to sitting water. Some knew it couldn't be more than a one-night stand, others, like Eliza, reveled in the fantasy that they were the one that would convert Harry Styles into a life of commitment. The later were always disappointed.

"Are we good then? This won't happen again?" Harry raises his eyebrow. He's already fearing the repercussions he may get from Eliza's little outburst. He is already on a short leash here at ABT, and this was surely not going to help matters.

"We're good," she replies softly, but her face is filled with defeat.

"Well then, off to rehearsals." Harry adjusts his duffle bag across his shoulder and makes his way towards his rehearsal studio.

Harry already knows he's late when he enters the rehearsal studio. Giselle's standing there with her arms crossed, tapping the tip of her pointe shoe against the floor with impatience. She doesn't scare him, but the face of Mistress Ivanova when he enters the room does.

"Mr. Styles," she announces with a voice that resembles that of a mother about to lecture her young child. "Let me be the first to say that I take little interest in who you choose to spend your personal time with. When the choices made in that personal time, however, disturb my class and my rehearsals, it becomes my business. What happened today was completely unacceptable. And it will not happen again. May I remind you that you are on a very short leash here at ABT. Another incident like today and you will be replaced."

Six months ago, when Harry was at the Royal, he might have argued back. Reminded this instructor that she could replace him all she wanted but that people had bought their season tickets to see HIM- not some understudy. Reminded Mistress Ivanova that he could have a spot at any company in the world, and that it was HER job to make sure he stayed. But that kind of reaction, that thought process, was exactly what had landed him in this position in the first place- half a world away from home. Alone and at risk of losing a career in dance. So he bites his tongue and simply replies, "I understand."

He glances over at Giselle, who has something resembling a smirk across her face. When his eyes meet hers she quickly turns away.

"Now, we are going to work on the Act II white adagio today. I presume you two have spent some time together working on partnering so this should go smoothly." Mistress Ivanova claps her hands and signals the pianist to begin playing the music.

The fact that they hadn't practiced quickly becomes apparent. Their timing is completely off, the promenades are wobbly, and the dancing seems forced and unfamiliar.

"Maybe if you weren't making your way through the entire corps de ballet we could actually rehearse together," Giselle mutters under her breath as Mistress Ivanova leaves the room with a face that looks less than pleased.

"Maybe if you didn't act like I was about to drop you every time we promenade..." Harry begins.

"How do I know you aren't going to drop me when we've barely danced together?!"

Harry laughs. "I'm Harry Styles. I don't drop my partners, no matter how...annoying I may find them."

"Oh please," Giselle rolls her eyes. "Are you trying to make everyone in this company hate you? I mean if you keep at it with the corps and you'll have to skip company class all together." Giselle preps for a pirouette then relevés, feeling Harry's firm grip on her waist as she turns and he stops her abruptly. "Although I don't know, I get the sense that you like all that attention."

"Believe me Giselle," he accentuates the end of her name like it's a bad sound. "The last thing I want is to get emotionally involved with any of these company members."

Giselle preps for a pirouette again, this time Harry stops her smoothly, and she comes to balance in passé before lowering herself back onto her heels.

"Seems like Eliza was emotionally involved this morning. Sex will do that to people."

"Sex is just dancing without clothes, love." Harry replies, and the way his eyes meet hers in the mirror while his hands are placed on her waist sends a shiver down Giselle's spine. "Haven't you ever spent the night with someone just to escape?"

"Of course." Giselle responds, stumbling in her words only slightly. "But I know the importance of keeping my career and my private life separate."

The truth of the matter was, of late, Giselle hadn't had much of a private life. It was ballet this, ballet that. Any hours not spent in the studio were spent icing her achying feet and tired muscles. Giselle had done it once, the whole relationship thing. He was a young businessman who she met at a fundraiser for the company and he had been wonderful. Until she began to spend time with him instead of in the studio, and her mother quickly noticed her regression of skills.

Natalia Korsakova had been quick to express her distaste in the relationship and the effect it was having on her daughter's dancing. But luckily (or unluckily) for Giselle, she didn't have to be the one to break it off. One night she was laying in bed, watching a movie with a man she thought she might be falling for. Two days later, he simply stopped answering her texts or picking up his phone. He simply dropped out of Giselle's life with no explanation.

After that, Giselle knew better then to get involved with anyone who might distract her from her career. She decided maybe it was for the better, after all if there was one theme to be taken from the world of ballet, it was that love rarely ended in happy endings. There were far too many leads who sacrificed their lives in the name of love and for what? A pretty pas de deux in a pancake tutu of the afterlife?

"Hmm," Harry replies, but by the way his lips have formed into a kind of half smirk Giselle doesn't think he believes her.

They run through the variation again. It's better, their timing not nearly as disasterous as it had been a half hour earlier, but it still feels off. Unfamiliar. Like they were two strangers dancing, which Giselle supposed they were.

Mistress Ivanova doesn't return to the studio. Instead, it's Viktor who appears, twisting his hands together in awkwardness as he steps towards the front of the room. "Mistress Ivanova sent me in to run you through the variation again. She says she doesn't want to see it again until it, and I quote," Viktor pauses for emphasis. "No longer looks like it's torture to dance with each other."

Giselle hears a low chuckle leave Harry's lips. Was he amused by this? The fact that his inability to do what was asked of him had pissed off Mistress Ivanova.

"Let's run it. From the top," Viktor gestures to the pianist that has also returned to the room.

Giselle sighs, taking a deep breath before making her way to the starting point. The run the piece once- Giselle falls from the promenade. A second time- Harry doesn't stop her on the last pirouette. The third time is less technically faulty, but when Viktor stops them again, his face looks less than thrilled.

"Look guys, I know it can't be easy, being thrown into rehearsals with someone you've never danced with before. All your issues can be fixed easily once you are more comfortable with each other. More familiar with each others movements. It's going to take time, and rehearsal. And that's going to have to be rehearsal outside of normal hours."

Giselle glances over at Harry. His lips are formed in a straight line- emotionless.

"Just please. Practice before next weeks rehearsal with her?" Viktor's eyes are pleading this time, like he doesn't want to have to be the bad guy in this situation anymore.

Giselle nods, but out of the corner of her eye she notices that Harry remains completely still.

"Well, that's all for today. Thanks guys." Viktor announces before leaving the studio.

Giselle sits down, untying the ribbon of her pointe shoes. "So when would you be available to practice?"

Harry scoffs. "Practice? I don't think I'm the one that needs to learn the fucking choreography."

Giselle is taken aback by Harry's harsh tone. But she wasn't going to put up with this. Like it or not she was Harry's partner. And like it or not, they were going to have to put in some time if they wanted to keep their roles as the stars of the show. Harry was simply going to have to realize that he had just as much to practice as she does.

"No one said anything about the choreography," Giselle replies, her voice strong. "This isn't the Royal, Harry you can't go walking around like you own the place."

"And you can?" Harry scoffs. "Just because your mother's got a spot on the board doesn't make you the star of the show, love."

The word love at the end of his sentence almost cushions the blow of his words. Almost.

"You don't know the first thing about my relationship with my mother," Giselle spit back.

"And you don't know anything about starring in a show-clearly."

Giselle doesn't respond to this one. Instead she just narrows her eyes. "Tomorrow night, after rehearsals. This studio. We have to practice Harry, I won't have Mistress Ivanova storm out of another one of our rehearsals."

"And what are you going to do if I don't show? Are you going to run and cry to your mummy?" Harry taunts.

Giselle stands, slinging her bag across her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow," she states firmly.

She can feel her blood boiling as she exits the studio and makes her way towards the staircase. If this was what it was like to be Odette, maybe she wasn't cut out for it. It was hard to imagine a scenario and which her and Harry's partnership would result in a magnificent performance.

"Giselle!" she turns and sees Viktor from the corner of eye, near the end of the hallway. He rushes towards her.

"Good job today. Harry may not be the most..." he stops, his mind searching for the word, "enthusiastic partner."

Giselle offers a weak smile. "You can say that again."

"If you ever want extra practice, I'd be more than happy to run through any of the variations with you. It may not be the solution to all your problems but..."

"Thank you Viktor, I appreciate it." She smiles and makes a step towards the door. "Sorry to hear about your retirement by the way, I'll really miss watching you on stage."

Viktor shrugs. "I guess sometimes it's just time to let one journey come to an end. You won't miss me too much though, I'm gonna be more involved with rehearsals." He smiles, but Giselle can see that behind his blue eyes, pain hides.

"Good. Well, I better go get some rest. Caleb has been texting me non-stop about our dinner plans for the evening," Giselle gestures towards the stairs.

"Better get on that then, don't want to keep the man waiting. Good night Giselle."

"Goodnight," she replies.

******************************

Giselle wishes she hadn't agreed on dinner with Caleb as she opens the door to her apartment. But Caleb was her best friend, and after a long day of rehearsals, his company was something that she desperately needed.

As Giselle sets her black duffle bag on the floor inside her bedroom, her phone begins to ring on the kitchen counter. She leaps across the floor to reach it, but when she glances down, the name on the screen makes her pulse quicken. Could this day get any worse?

"Hello mother," Giselle brings the phone to her ear, walking over to the couch and laying down, her feet up in the air.

"Giselle," her mother replies curtly. There's no darling at the end of her name. That's how Giselle knows this isn't a happy check-in motherly phone call. It's going to be the kind of phone call Giselle wishes she could mute. But then again, that's what everyone of mother's phone calls was.

"I ran into Mistress Ivanova this afternoon. I have to say Giselle, I was quite disappointed when I asked about rehearsals and she told me that she had to leave your pas de deux rehearsal because of how much work needed to be done. How many times have we discussed the importance of going into rehearsals prepared?"

Only a million times. Giselle responds in her head, but instead she remains silent.

"Now what on earth is going on between you and Harry Styles? Do you know how hard we worked to bring him here? I hope you are being a good partner. Have you been following that diet I sent you? Getting your extra mile in in the mornings?"

"Yes mother," she responds in monotone. She won't mention the street tacos Caleb is bringing over for dinner. She can't listen to that lecture tonight. "I've been trying to get Harry to put in the extra time, but he seems uninterested."

"Well try harder Giselle. You can't be the reason he doesn't stay at the company. Can you imagine the embarrassment I would get if my own daughter was the reason we lost out on one of the premier male ballet dancers of this generation? I don't know if I could show my face at a board meeting ever again."

Of course it was her own reputation her mother was concerned about. It didn't matter that Harry Styles might ruin Giselle's chances of every making principal. All that mattered was that Natalia Korsakova maintained her legacy.

Giselle hears a knock at the door. Caleb, thank god. She rises from the couch and makes her way to the door. "Find a way to get things going with Harry. Rehearse with him. Next time I speak with Mistress Ivanova I don't want to hear a negative thing about your performance." Giselle opens the door to see a smiling Caleb, brown paper bag in hand. "You have to do better Giselle, this may be your only opportunity to prove you can dance at a principal level."

Caleb mouths "Your mom?" and Giselle nods as he enters the apartment, setting the bag on the table and then making his way towards the white cupboards for plates.

"I know mom. It won't happen again. Listen, I've got to go. Caleb's going to run through Act II with me for a bit. Okay?"

"Okay," her mother sighs on the other line. Like it's a terrible inconvenience for her to have been on the phone for so long. "But don't forget to reach out to Harry about rehearsals too."

"I won't. Goodbye mom."

"Bye," Natalia responds, but Giselle barely hears her words before hanging up.

Giselle slams her phone down on the kitchen table which results in a raised eyebrow from Caleb "What'd she have to lecture you on today?"

"My disaster of a pas de deux rehearsal," Giselle shakes her head, making her way to the sink and filling a glass of water.

"And why was it such a disaster?" Caleb asks, setting a plate and napkin in front of Giselle's spot.

"Because Mistress Ivanova walked out on us,"

Giselle watches as shock fills her best friend's face. He stops what he is doing. "She what?"

"She walked out. And she won't rehearse with us again until we don't 'look like it's torture to dance with each other."

"It's that bad?" Caleb asks, now taking a bite of his taco.

"Worse. I mean it's been almost two weeks since cast posting and Harry has yet to agree to practice with me outside of rehearsals. I mean how our we ever going to dance with each other if we don't practice!"

Caleb opens his mouth to say something but Giselle continues. "I finally had enough today. I told him we are practicing tomorrow night. Doubt he shows though. And then what? My one chance to prove myself and it's a complete disaster."

"Gi," Caleb says, reaching for her hand across the table. "Take a deep breath."

She looks into his brown eyes and follows as they inhale and exhale in unison. It was an action they'd done a million times before, backstage awaiting their first performance as company members, when Caleb submitted his first choreographed routine to a local amateur dance company. It always seemed to bring them back to center, wherever they were, whatever the stressor, one deep breathe and things began to fall back into place.

Giselle would like to say that this worked a miracle. That the thought of failing her mother yet again wasn't racing through her mind. But it still was. Fainter, but still lingering.

"I just don't know what to do with him, Caleb. Harry Styles has to be the worst partner in the world."

"He's definitely proved why he got kicked out of the Royal. Guy's got an attitude."

"Why couldn't you be my partner?" Giselle sighed.

"Because, as Mistress Ivanova would say. I waste too much of my time on that choreography dream," Caleb sighs.

"It's not a waste of time, Caleb. You're choreography is groundbreaking."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But do you know what is groundbreaking? These tacos."

Giselle hasn't touched the fried, greasy mess wrapped in foil in front of her. To be honest, she isn't even hungry. If she had been alone in her apartment, she'd likely have opted for a salad, if anything at all. But Caleb was one of those people who believed food was the best cure after a long day. And Giselle needed his company more than anything, so she forces down the greasiness bite by bite.

Caleb begins to fill Giselle in on his own Swan Lake rehearsals. As well as the piece he is choreographing that he hopes Gregory, the artistic director will consider for the school showcase come spring. Then he updates her as always, on Finn, the coffee shop owner from down the street that he is infatuated with.

As they chat, Caleb's favorite street tacos grow heavy in Giselle's stomach.

Giselle makes her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her with a click. She examines herself in the mirror, bringing a hand up to pull at her cheek. Her chin looks large, like she's had just a few too many street tacos, and her collarbones lack the definition that usually makes them stand out from her shoulders. Her mom's words echo through her mind. "Eat less Giselle. Exercise more Giselle. You need to be a good partner Giselle."

Giselle doesn't want to. She's been so good for so long, but yet- the urge is coming over her and it's so strong she can't ignore it, because she just knows that if she does this she will feel better. Just this once. Just until that heavy feeling of greasy street food is no longer lingering in her stomach.

She flips on the faucet, letting the sound of running water drum in the background.

She walks over to the toilet and kneels down, the gray ceramic tile of her bathroom floor is cold and hard, and her knees crack as she adjusts her weight. She leans over the toilet, her mouth open and her fingers nearby, willing up the strength to just do it. A few moments, and she could forget those tacos happened all together.

Giselle closes her eyes and executes and soon her dinner is staring back at her from the toilet bowl. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, reaching up and flushing the evidence. She then moves to the sink, cupping water into her hands until there's enough to gargle in her throat and rinse the sour taste from her mouth. She reaches for the pink toothbrush on the corner of the counter, applying a thin line of mint toothpaste before beginning to brush.

As she brushes, she tells herself this is just a one time thing. A solution to one poor dietary decision. She wasn't falling back into her old habits. This wouldn't happen again.

As she spit out the minty foam and looked in the mirror once more, Giselle told herself she felt better.

"Gi?" Caleb knocks on the door, bringing her out of her trance. "You alright in there?"

Giselle opens the door quickly, forcing a smile on her face. "Fine, tacos just didn't settle well." She pushes towards the couch, eager to get something else on her mind. "Shall we watch the next episode of The Crown?"

"Sounds perfect," Caleb replies, settling into the couch beside her.

**********************

Harry's not sure who is more surprised as he walks into the rehearsal studio later the next afternoon- Giselle or himself. He hadn't wanted to show up. But after the events with Eliza and the way rehearsal went, he knew he didn't have much choice. This didn't have to become a regular occurrence, just enough to get the Director off his back - and his obnoxious partner. Plus, dancing was better than sitting in his tiny New York City apartment alone, which seemed to have become even more lonely in recent weeks.

"Look who decided to make an appearance," Giselle says, hands on her hips as Harry slings his duffle bag to the side of the room.

"Yes I'm here. No need to gloat about it," Harry snaps. He wasn't sure what had come over him lately, this newfound bitterness. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that for the first time in his career, he was feeling the pressure of messing up. He could lose everything.

Harry had always been arrogant. He knew that about himself. It was the role he played to protect himself- from getting too close and getting hurt all over again. But as this personality trait slowly burned through his professional life, he began to wonder if it was doing more harm than good.

"Well then," he asks. "Shall we rehearse?" He looks at Giselle, who simply stares at him. The tip of her pointe shoe tapping against the Marley floor. What was she waiting for?

"Look Giselle, you don't like me. I get it. I'm not particularly fond of you either, but I showed up today and I'm ready to figure this out. This partnership. So can we please just rehearse?"

Giselle stares at him, slightly amused by the reversal of roles- the fact that for once Harry Styles was the one begging for her to practice with him. Her lips curve into a half smile. "Okay."

"I think we should go back to the basics. Finger pirouettes, whip turns, the whole lot." Giselle nods in agreement. Where had this Harry come from? She felt like at any moment she might jolt awake from her bed and realize this was all a dream, because this was certainly not the version of Harry Styles she had encountered during their first two weeks as partners. She wants to ask him about his sudden change of heart, but decides to bite her tongue. It didn't matter why Harry was here, just that he was.

Giselle stands in front of Harry her feet in relevé. She reaches for his hands, one above her and one beside her.

"How's that for grip?" Harry asks.

Giselle's startled that he's asking for her input. "Good...ya...let's just see..." She raises her leg to passé, then développé it to the front and turns. "Maybe bring my left arm a little more forward," she suggests, then turns again. "Yes that's better."

They continue this formula through the basics. Whip turns, fish dips, shoulder sits, promenades. Harry tells Giselle when she's not holding enough of her weight. Giselle tells Harry when his grip is too strong, too lose.

He's calmer today- more present. Giselle can see that he actually could be a very good partner- when he tries too. He's gentle with his lifts, steady with his balance, and although she doesn't trust him fully, she doesn't get the sense that he's going to purposefully let her fall on her face.

Giselle even thinks, that as she stares into Harry's eyes after a dip- that there's a glimmer of softness between the strong green hue. She sees why women find him attractive. Why girls in the corps fawn over him. His jawline was flawless- razor sharp. What are you thinking Giselle, she thinks to herself. All the beauty in the world can't hide his personality.

"Shall we run Act II?" Harry asks, and Giselle is shocked. She figured that she'd only be able to convince Harry to rehearse for an hour tops, and two had already passed.

"I think that would be good," she says.

Harry nods as they move to their places. Act II goes smoother than it has before. There's still hiccups. Giselle's body still feels unfamiliar in his hands and he can't anticipate her movements like he could Mia's- but Giselle's confidence has grown and he thinks there's a potential for this not to end in full on disaster.

She's quite good actually. Her technique is near flawless- no doubt due to the hours of late nights she spends in the studio. And Harry realizes that maybe he has been a bit unfair to her. She still was annoying, a perfectionist, too wrapped up in the movement instead of simply dancing- but she was a good dancer. She had potential.

"Think that's enough for tonight," Giselle pants, out of breath from their third run-through of the pas de deux. "Shall we do this again tomorrow?" After the words leave her mouth, she wonders if this is pushing it to far. Maybe she should have settled for one rehearsal with Harry. Getting him to show up for to rehearsals two nights in a row seemed highly unlikely.

"Okay," Harry responds, his answer shocking even himself. "I think we are getting somewhere. It just takes time." He makes his way over to the bar, leaning forward to stretch his hamstrings.

Giselle sits on the ground, unwrapping the silk ribbon of her pointe shoes.

"You know the steps Giselle and I'll make sure you look good out there. Promise," he says, and Giselle thinks that maybe she can see even a hint of a smile.

Giselle pulls her foot out of her shoe, folding her tights back to reveal her stinging blistered feet. She glances over at Harry, his face buried against his leg at the bar- his tights showing off his perfectly toned leg. It makes her think about him- the rumors about his arrival at ABT. She knows she shouldn't ruin the moment but she can't help herself. The words slip out.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" Harry asks, but the smirk on his face tells Giselle that he already knows exactly what she is about to ask about.

"Sleep with the director's wife."

"What's it to you?" Harry mutters, placing his other leg on the barre and stretching against it, the muscles of his back growing taunt beneath his white T-shirt.

Giselle shrugged. She didn't know why she was asking. She didn't care. Whatever had transpired at the Royal to bring Harry Styles into her studio was said and done. It's not like she could ship him back there, much to her dismay. "Just wanted to know if there was any fact behind the rumors."

"I could have," Harry says the sharp green of his eyes temporarily dimming. "There are countless women who have thrown themselves at my feet during my career, Mrs. Abbot included."

"But if you didn't... why'd you leave the Royal?"

"Now why would I tell you that when there's such a good story brewing in the company? I hate to kill a good rumor," He chuckles, his voice deep and velvety. He picks up his bag, sliding it across his body in one fluid movement. "Goodnight Giselle. I'll see you tomorrow."

And for the first time Giselle found herself not watching Harry Styles walk away with a feeling of distaste, but a feeling of curiosity.

Taglist:

@tpwkhoney , @swtxel , @stylessugarhigh

#loys #writingby1dfangirls35 #harry au #ballet au #ballet harry #hs #harry styles #1dff #harry fanfiction #harry fanfic #enemies to lovers #tw eating disorders

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 4 years ago

Text

Nev, Max, Help!-Nate Jacobs Oneshot

Requested: Yes

Warnings: aggressiveness and rudeness from Nate and a brief panic attack scene

A/N: The reader is gender neutral since the requester did not specify what they wanted and I did not want to disrespect the storyline from the show. Also, it’s a long one.

For once, Amy Winehouse’s low, melancholy voice did nothing to soothe my nerves as I typed what I was looking for in the designated box. “Love is a Losing Game” was definitely not the best song for the mood but I loved her voice so much; it was like a really messed up security blanket for me. My thumbs shook as I kept typing and quickly deleting my words.

Someone to have fun with.

No, that’ll bring every single creep to my profile.

Someone to watch Netflix with.

Ew, no, they won’t want to go anywhere or do anything.

Someone to discuss Maya Angelou with...

This could go one of two ways: attract a sensitive, nice person or the ultimate softboi who was really just an f-boy in a sensible cardigan.

Okay, Y/N, just add to it.

...and have adventures, great conversations, and watch the best movies.

That seemed broad enough and, potentially, weeded out all the weirdos. Patti Stanger would approve of this. I took such a deep breath that I could feel the oxygen in my feet as I pressed the green check mark. An adorable buffering sign appeared before being quickly replaced by a CONGRATULATIONS, Y/N/N, ON COMPLETING YOUR PROFILE.

The air came out of me slowly, like a balloon, and I tried to make myself relax as I swiped through different matches. One person was too short, the other too tall, another had way too many pictures with reptiles in his profile, and one’s bio simply read: DM and you’ll find out.

Serial killer much?

“That’s part of your problem, Y/N,” Jules had chastised me a few day prior.

“What do you mean by ‘part’?” I’d replied.

“Well, for one, you barely leave the house anymore unless I drag you out,” Jules argued.

“I’m busy,” I’d defended.

“Rewatching Breaking Bad for the eighth time does not count as being busy. Plus, you’re so picky.”

“Am not!”

“You said you’d only do DiCaprio in his Great Gatsby days,” Rue had added.

“Did you see him in that suit?”

Jules then shrugged. “All I’m saying is if you aren’t careful, you will end up all alone.”

“That’s not true, Y/N might get cats.”

That conversation had haunted me since and had driven me to making a dating profile after the required Saturday night family dinner. While my parents and brother were downstairs watching a movie, I was holed up in my room, cringing and regretting accepting any chat requests.

Half an hour on the app caused the images of various male genitalia to be burned into my mind. I would need my brain soaked in holy water for it to be erased. I huffed and kept scrolling, vainly hoping and wishing for a decent guy to pop up on my radar.

Maybe Jules and Rue were wrong. Maybe I had all the right in the world to be picky, I thought harshly to myself.

I dropped my phone on my nightstand and flopped against my pillows as Me and Mr. Jones began playing. I sighed and felt myself being lulled into the comforting abyss Amy created.

Ding!

I jumped out and glared at the source of the noise. Another chat request, another picture to ruin my young brain?

“Be positive, Y/N, this might be good,” I stated as I grabbed the phone.

Tyler wants to chat!

I frowned and opened up the app, only to be met with the most sculpted six-pack I had ever seen. My heart began banging against my chest and my thumbs fumbled for a moment to answer the chat request.

Whoosh.

My stomach dropped as I stared at my first chat to Tyler: Shg.ismtle

I’m. Going. To. Die. Alone.

I quickly typed: Please ignore that, I’m so sorry!

Seconds later, my phone dinged.

Tyler: Really? I thought you were trying to send me a secret code and I liked that we were that cool already.

This was not real, this could not be happening. Tyler had to be a bot, that was why he didn’t show his face in his profile. Bots were supposed to have a hard time recognizing and creating faces, right?

But, on the off chance Tyler was real, it would have been rude to leave the conversation so abruptly?

Y/N: Who knows? Maybe it was a secret code and I’m just testing you.

Tyler: Ok, let me guess what it means.

Tyler: Hi?

Y/N: Haha, you really thought I’d use such a simple code as a first message?

Tyler: It’s my bad for underestimating u. I should have known u were smarter since you read Maya Angelou.

Y/N: U a fan?

Tyler: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”

He knows Angelou? He could have Googled a quote though. Still, it’s a good quote to use if he had Googled it.

Y/N: Nice, but, doesn’t get u out of the guessing game.

As Tyler helplessly guessed wrong for several minutes, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I used to think online dating was a last resort or a breeding ground for predators. But, maybe there were decent people looking for something (or someone) meaningful after all.

Tyler: I give up, you’re really good.

Y/N: Thx. But, I can tell you what I meant to say.

Tyler: The suspense is srsly kiilling me.

Y/N: I meant 2 say hey.

Tyler: I guessed that!

Y/N: No, u guessed ‘hi’, there’s a difference.

Tyler: C’mon, barely.

For the rest of the night, Tyler and I chatted. He told me that he plays baseball at a school across town and he doesn’t like anyone around there. He liked John Mulaney stand-up, lemon bars, going to the gym, hanging out with his friends, and reading good books. He was an only child and his parents tended to spoil him. I told him about my friends and how I liked being on the swim team at my school as well as the different YouTubers and books I enjoyed. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of talking to him.

On Monday, Jules and Rue were hanging out outside the school as other people either headed to class or relaxed on the lawn. I could not stop my feet from bouncing as I walked up to them.

“...and that is why Sailor Mercury is the most underrated character of the whole show,” Jules affrimed.

Rue seemed halfway interested as her head nodded slowly underneath the hood of her burgundy hoodie. “Cool, all I asked was who’s your favorite but, cool.”

Jules rolled her eyes playfully and straightened up when she saw me. “Hey, Y/N, nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” I wore a sky blue tie dye shirt with ripped jeans and white Converse.

Rue leaned forward and squinted at me. “You’re not wearing black, something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, she’s obviously been influenced by me!” Jules teased as she wrapped a slim arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah, you can only hang out with this literal rainbow human so long before she starts influencing your outfit choices.”

We started heading inside, which was really just Jules and me dragging Rue into the building.

“But I don’t wanna be here. It’s so stupid that I have to wait six more months before I can legally decide where I spend my time,” Rue muttered.

“It’s fine, you have us!” Jules insisted.

“Yup!” I agreed.

“Hey, Y/N, Rue, Jules!” Cassie greeted as she sidled up next to me.

We all greeted her.

“Have a good weekend?” Rue asked.

“Yeah, there was this great party that Nick Davis threw. I swear, everyone there was on acid.” Cassie stopped herself and bit her bottom lip. “Sorry---”

Rue shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“How were yours?” Cassie asked as we continued to our lockers.

“Fine,” Jules said.

Rue shrugged in response.

I opened my mouth to reply when my phone beeped and I wrestled it out of my pocket.

Tyler: Is it 2 late 4 a good morning text?

I smiled.

“You’re so cheesy,” I muttered under my breath.

“Who’s that?” Cassie asked, peeking over my shoulder.

I jumped and cradled my phone to my chest like it was my child. “No one.”

Jules pulled open her locker and cocked a bleached eyebrow. “‘No one’ does not cause huge smiles like that!” She jabbed a sparkly-manicured finger at me.

“Yeah, show us,” Rue said. “We are your friends.”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted as I weaved around them.

I pushed myself against my locker and managed to open it with my free hand. Rue was on one side of me and Cassie was on the other.

“Is it a boy?” Cassie sang.

“Or a girl?” Rue questioned.

“It’s none of your business,” I gritted out as I grabbed my necessary books.

As I shuffled the books in my arms, Jules came from behind and slipped my phone away from me. I gasped, whirled around, and watched as Rue tried to look at the phone while Cassie playfully blocked me.

“Guys, this is not cool! This is such a serious invasion of privacy,” I argued as I tried to move around Cassie.

“We’re besties, there’s no such thing as privacy!” Jules retorted.

“Wow, Y/N, these are so----” Jules cut Rue off.

“Adorable!” Jules squealed and turned to face me.

Cassie took the opportunity to glance at my phone and she smiled. “Aw, this Tyler guy sounds so sweet.”

I snatched my phone from Jules. “Well, now you know. Can we please go to class now?”

As the other girls grabbed their things from their lockers, I got out my phone to reply to Tyler.

Y/N: It’s never too late...until noon technically.

Somehow, I started wandering away from the girls until I ran into someone. I tried to jump away, but they grabbed me by the forearms.

“I am so sorry, I should have looked where I was going---” I stopped speaking when I recognized Nate’s direct gaze on me. I was pretty tall but I always felt like he could throw me into the lockers if he wanted to.

“Watch it, Y/N,” he muttered.

“Nate, let go of them,” Maddy chided, her hand resting against one of his arms.

She seemed to have the magic touch because he relaxed and I joined my friends. As the couple continued down the hallway, I couldn’t help but admire them. In a very messed up way, they worked. Kat had told me only a little about what Nate would do whenever Maddy upset him and I felt so bad for her, angry at him, and then conflicted. Nate just had to have that stereotypical amazing all-American look.

“You okay, Y/N?” Cassie asked.

“Yeah, is it weird that I can still feel his eyes on me even when he’s not looking?” I asked.

“No, his need for dominance permeates everyone’s sense of autonomy,” Rue assured.

“Nice,” Jules said.

“And scary accurate,” Cassie added.

Jule looped her arm with mine and steered us in the direction of our first classes. “Anyway, if he tries anything, I’m sure Tyler would gladly kick his butt for you.”

Throughout the day, Tyler and I chatted and I even had to get creative with responding. In English, I kept my head down during quiet reading time and made sure my phone was positioned just right in my lap. During geometry, I told Mrs. Packer that I was having some digestive issues and spent most of the class outside the bathroom, texting Tyler. At lunch, I could barely focus on my friends’ conversation.

“Hello, Earth to Y/N?” Lexi waved her hand in front of my face and I blinked.

“Sorry, I was----”

“Texting her boooyfriiiend,” Jules sang.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just talking.” I started poking at my sandwich. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that I nearly blew up the school during chem,” Cassie said.

“Magnesium chloride isn’t an explosive,” Lexi argued.

“Well, the tube overflowed and everyone was freaking out,” Cassie argued.

“Yeah, because magnesium chloride can have bad side effects,” Lexi continued.

“I wonder what would happen if the school exploded and we weren’t all here? Would they have to give us our diplomas?” I thought outloud.

“Ooh, and I could go to fashion school early!” Jules cheered.

“I’d be happy not coming here anymore,” Rue admitted.

It was quiet for a moment as we all ate but that quiet was broken when Maddy yelled.

“WHO ARE YOU TEXTING?”

I couldn’t help myself but look. Maddy was standing behind Nate, who was sitting with his teammates at the center table. Bebe and Kat flanked Maddy a little behind. Everyone stared at them. Nate’s jaw tightened.

“Maddy, calm down,” his relaxed, controlled voice nearly echoed in the silent cafeteria.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! YOU’VE BEEN ON YOUR PHONE ALL DAY!” she snapped.

“Maddy---”

“ARE YOU TEXTING OTHER GIRLS?” Maddy shouted.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Nate asked.

Maddy sighed. “Are you gonna let me see your phone?”

�� “Maddy, we need to talk.”

“Don’t talk to me again.”

Before Nate could respond, Maddy dumped the contents of her lunch tray over his head and threw the tray aside. Kat and Bebe followed her as she strutted out of the cafeteria amid the shocked gasps.

“I’m gonna go check on her,” Cassie whispered.

We all nodded and she quietly exited the room. As I stared at Nate, the supposed king of the school, drenched in soggy salad and fat-free milk, I wondered why he could never stay broken up with Maddy. Their relationship was not just toxic, it was volatile. Their breakups were always public and outrageous, but they always ended up back together. No one questioned it either. I never understood why people could continue to choose relationship they knew was bad over pursuing something new. I told Tyler as much that night.

Y/N: It’s like those dogs that get killed by electric fences because they keep walking into them.

Tyler: U have a good point, but, that couple’s relationship is more complicated than u think.

Y/N: Probably, but, it doesn’t look that way. They hurt each other a lot.

Tyler: How do u know?

Y/N: Bc I’ve seen it. I don’t mean 2 b judgy, but, I could never be in a relationship like that.

Tyler: Well, I don’t think anyone would b if they knew it would b bad.

Y/N: Good point. But, why would they get back together so much?

Tyler: Idk them, but, it could b bc it’s familiar and it’s what they know.

Y/N: Still, it’s messed up.

Tyler: Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk abt them anymore.

Y/N: K, what do u wanna talk abt?

A few seconds later, Tyler sent me a picture so graphically beautiful that I was convinced I passed out.

The next day, I showed Rue and Jules the picture during break time.

“Holy crap!” Jules took my phone and leaned into it for closer inspection.

“Tyler is packing,” Rue agreed.

Jules slid my phone back to me. “You haven’t replied to him?” “No, and he hasn’t talked to me at all today.”

“He’s probably expecting a reply that’s similar to what he sent,” Rue said.

My face warmed up. “I can’t send him nudes,” I hissed.

“Why not? It’s like the greeting cards of our generation,” Jules stated.

“Really? You’d send your grandparents a greeting card of your naked body?” I replied sarcastically.

“Relax, if you’re uncomfortable, we can help you,” Jules assured.

“We can?” Rue asked.

“We can.” Jules gave her a look and Rue relaxed.

“It’s still weird, but, I guess you guys can come over after school.”

“Sweet! Your mom still bakes cookies for you after school, right?” Jules asked.

I nodded.

“She might stop once she learns her darling favorite older child is sending nudes,” Rue snorted as she spoke.

I recoiled in my seat, taking a second to bask in the sun’s warmth. “Don’t remind me.”

After swim practice, once my teammates left the locker room, I eyed my naked form in the mirror. I had nothing to be ashamed of, really, thanks to all the swimming, but, I just felt weird being naked in front of people. There was something so vulnerable about it, like, being on display in a museum or lying on a cold surgery table. But, online dating was supposed to get me out of my comfort zone and I’d found someone who’d made me feel comfortable enough to do it. With this resolve, I changed into a hoodie and some sweatpants and left the school. It was dusk and I typically walked home after practice since it wasn’t far. Plus, I’d told Jules and Rue to just go to my house after school.

The late breeze rippled past me and I dug my hands into my pants’ pockets as I started walking towards the parking lot. There was barely anyone around, except stoners hotboxing their cars, some couples making out, and dance team members and football players getting out of practice.

I kept my head down as I maneuvered around the few cars and people around. It felt like someone could spot what I was about to do once I got home and it was nervewracking. All I had to do was get home, let Jules make me look even better, take these pictures, and never thinking of it again.

“Something on your mind, Y/N?” Nate called.

I froze and snapped my head up to look at him. He was leaning against his truck, looking like a model for Ford in only a tshirt and jeans. Ford should hire him.

“No, not really,” I said.

I started to side step the truck, eyeing the sidewalk that was only a few yards away as though it was a lifeline.

“Get in,” Nate ordered.

I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

“I see you walking home all the time, let me do you a favor, one athlete to another.” Nate was about halfway in the driver’s seat of the car and all I could do was stare.

“We’ve...never really talked before,” I stated.

“We can talk during the drive.”

I stepped back and my eyes flittered around, like the best decision would hit me in the face. Then, I saw Maddy across the lot. She was standing with a couple of dance team girls, including Cassie. She stared me down as though daring me to do it. I glanced from her to Nate, who started the engine loudly.

I quickly climbed into the passenger’s seat and stared into Maddy’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“How do you know where I live?” I asked.

“You forgot that I gave you a ride before?” Nate asked.

“When?”

“After Cassie’s sweet sixteen. You blacked out, your friends were panicking, and I offered to take you home. For some reason, you remembered your address,” Nate recalled.

“Oh, thanks?”

“Sure.”

We pulled up to my house a few minutes later, Lil Wayne bragging about his conquests filling the quiet. I hopped out of the truck and grabbed my bag.

“Thanks for the ride, this one, I mean, I owe you,” I said.

“Yeah, see you around, Y/N.”

I closed the door and headed inside.

“I’m home!” I called.

My mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Y/N, how was school and practice?”

“Fine.”

“Was that Nate Jacobs outside?”

I hesitated.

How did she know what Nate’s truck looked like? “Yeah, he gave me a ride today.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Rue and Jules are waiting for you in your room. They took the cookies with them.”

I nodded and went to my room. As soon as I walked in, they bombarded me with questions.

“Why did Nate give you a ride?” Rue asked.

“What did you guys talk about?” Jules inquired.

“Don’t you hate him?”

“He’s kind of a dick, but, unfortunately, super good looking.”

“Did Maddy see?”

“Do you think she’s gonna kill you?”

“Guys, I don’t know but I do know that if you do not take amazing pictures of me with no clothes on soon, I will delete my entire profile,” I interrupted.

They both nodded.

“But, we will ask for details later,” Jules insisted.

“Okay, but, please give me a cookie, I’ll need it to get through this.”

Rue extended the plate towards me and I bit into the melty goodness as Jules began doing my makeup. It was simple, only bringing out my best features. I made them both turn around as I undressed. Once I had, Jules encouraged me.

“You look amazing, I would be shocked if he didn’t jizz in his pants,” Jules said.

“Lower your voice, Y/B/N can only play Five Nights at Freddy’s so loud,” I hissed.

Jules held her hands up and Rue direct me to lay on the bed, my phone held up in front of her.

“Okay, look sexy,” Rue said.

I tried to smolder, but, by their expressions, I did not achieve it.

“No, like, pout your lips, like, you just heard that TheOdd1sOut is not uploading for a month,” Jules directed.

“And give the camera bedroom eyes, you know, as though it’s Tyler.”

“Okay.” After a few pictures, I slowly got the hang of it and even started posing a little naturally.

“Oh my gosh, Tyra is shook!” Jules cheered.

“Yeah, these are pretty good if I do say so myself.” Rue handed me my phone and I flipped through the pictures.

She was a talented photogrpaher and I joked that maybe she should go professional.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’d have a nice clientele.”

I laughed as I changed back into my hoodie and sweatpants. “Okay, help me pick one to send.”

Jules took my phone and she and Rue began scrolling.

“No, the lighting’s off in this one,” Jules muttered.

“No, it’s never off in any of these,” Rue argued.

“I’m not shading your talent, I’m just trying to find the best thing for Y/N to send Tyler.”

After a little more bickering, we all agreed on the picture and I sent it to Tyler.

“Should I follow it up with something?” I asked.

“Maybe say ‘Wrong person’? Guys want what other guys want,” Jules suggested.

“Or say ‘Sorry for the late reply’,” Rue added.

“I’ll go with Rue’s, sorry, Jules.”

Jules shrugged.

I sent everything off and my friends and I watched as Tyler typed a response.

Tyler: It was worth the wait ;).

We squealed so loud that my mom yelled for us to keep it down. We apologized as we descended into a fit of giggles. Through it all, I could not help but feel so bouncy and light all over. Was I...falling for this total stranger?

“What do you think he looks like?” Jules asked during lunch later that week.

I shrugged. “It’s different every day, if that makes sense.”

“I guess that’s the nice thing about interacting with someone who doesn’t show their face,” Jules thought outloud.

“How do you see him now?” Lexi asked.

I sighed. “Right now, I think he’s tall, six feet at least. He’s got a mix of blonde and brown hair like a surfer because it’s lightened from all the time he’s spent in the sun. He has green eyes, freckles, and he dresses well.”

“Sounds amazing,” Jules said as she rest her chin in her hand.

Rue nodded slowly. “You’re not nervous or anything?”

“No, this is so cheesy, but, I feel like I know him, you know? He’s so easy to talk to and has so much to say.”

“Y/N’s blushing,” Jules teased. “Do you love him?”

“I really, really, really, like him.”

“Do you think you’ll meet soon?” Lexi asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, neither of us has brought it up.”

“Well, it just matters that you’re comfortable, okay?” Rue said.

“Okay.”

If I was honest, I did not know if I wanted to meet Tyler. I knew that I liked him more than I liked anyone before, but, there was something strange about breaking this wall the internet provided us. It was freer to talk on the internet than it was in person. What if I said something stupid in front of him? What if he thought that I looked different in person? What if he looked different in person?

I managed to keep these thoughts at bay for the rest of the day until I got home. Post-dinner had been officially declared Talk to Tyler Time. None of my family knew what I was doing besides blasting Amy Winehouse in my room for about an hour. My laugh nearly overpowered her high note in “Best Friends, Right?”. I had to blink away my happy tears as I replied to him.

Y/N: That did not happen! Tyler: Yes it did! Do u want 2 c the scar????

Y/N: No, I think I’m good.

I wiped away my tears and settled under the covers. I wondered if his friends would agree that Tyler gets into some weird situations as well. Just as I started typing, Tyler beat me.

Tyler: I want 2 meet u.

The speed that I launched my phone away from me almost shocked me more than the text.

Almost.

My heartbeat thrummed in my ears. This was it, I knew I couldn’t avoid him much longer, but, I felt like I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at my phone like it was the most offensive object in the world. Slowly, I regained mobility and grabbed my phone. I took a deep breath.

“Take a chance, Y/L/N,” I whispered.

Y/N: When and where?

“You’re meeting him tonight?” Jules squealed the next day.

I hushed her as people in the hallway paused to look at us. “Not so loud.” “But this is so exciting. Please let me help you decide what to wear,” Jules pleaded with a pout.

“Sure,” I said.

Jules hugged me. “This is going to be so fun. I won’t go crazy with glitter since this is the first time you’re meeting this guy.”

“Thanks?”

“Do your parents know?” Rue asked.

“No,” I replied as I slowly pulled away from Jules. “They’re coming Senior Night tonight, though. and I’m going to meet him at Mercy Park an hour before it ends.”

“Are you sure you even want to do this? I know that Jules and I tease you about your love life, but, this is risky,” Rue said.

“You weren’t saying that when you were helping me with those pictures the other day,” I shot back.

“That was different. You’re...you’re actually meeting him now and he could be a psychopath or a sociopath or, just, a creepy old guy who likes to look at teenagers!” Rue insisted.

“Rue, relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that!” She turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom with Jules and I on her tail.

When we entered, Rue was leaning against the wall, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Jules and I approached her slowly as the girls who were in the bathroom quickly filed out.

“Rue, slow down your breathing,” I said slowly.

“I...I can’t. You-you could get hurt or something and-and I would know about it an-and I-I couldn’t live with that!” Tears burst from her eyes as Rue began pacing and Jules and I were close but gave her room.

“Rue, Y/N is going to be okay, we both know what time she’ll be at the park. If anything happens, we’ll know the area she could be in,” Jules assured her.

Rue shook her head and stopped in her tracks. Then, she looked between us helplessly before bowing her head and sobbing. Jules and I carefully hugged her and let her cry.

“I’m sorry that I’m scared and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rue mumbled into my shirt.

“It’s okay, I appreciate it. I really want to meet Tyler, though, and, I promise I will let you know if something happens, okay?”

Rue nodded and sniffled.

It took Jules about an hour to make me look amazing. I had no idea my hair could be so fluffy and put together until she was done with it. She used eyeliner to make eyes look bigger and rounder and added sparkly lip gloss to make my lips look plumper. After she contoured and highlighted the best places she deemed that her work was done. My outfit, a fitted forest green long-sleeve shirt and fitted black pants with Jadons, was also approved by her.

“Tell me everything later!” she insisted.

Rue couldn’t join us since she had “prior commitments” but I texted her that I would let her know when I head to the park and when I leave. My nerves didn’t let me focus on the soccer game my parents insisted I joined them and my brother at. I couldn’t care less that the forward on one team got a yellow card or that the goalie on the other team made illegal blocks. I was practically buzzing with excitement and fear so much that I had to give my pretzel to Y/B/N. Finally, the third quarter arrived and I told my parents that I would meet them at home since I’d promised Lexi that I would help her with some homework.

Lexi wouldn’t mind being used for a lie this one time; it was an emergency.

I tried to practice some calming deep breaths as I walked over to the park. The dark night sky provided a little bit of comfort to my walk. I wondered how different Tyler would look from the picture in my mind. I wondered if he thought I would look any different. Maybe (hopefully) it wouldn’t matter to either of us.

Finally, I reached the park. It was empty, save for the oak trees scattered throughout the lush green scenery that seemed mysterious under the mooonlight. A few benches and wooden tables were around as well, but, Tyler and I had agreed to meet at the fountain which was further in the park. The breathing exercises had to have helped because I felt much more relaxed and I hoped that everything would go all right.

When I got to the fountain, there was a tall person facing it. All I could make out were dark clothes and broad shoulders. I took another deep breath and kept walking.

“This is a nice spot, you have good taste,” I commented.

“I could say the same for you.” I stopped in my tracks as Nate slowly turned to face me. His face was unreadable but his eyes stayed on me.

“What? Wh-where’s Tyler?” I asked, my voice already hoarse.

Nate glanced down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to talk to you.”

I shook my head. “No.” My vision got blurry but I could tell that Nate was looking up at me now.

“Just let me explain,” he requested softly.

He took a step towards me and I took two steps back .

“I don’t wanna hear it. This....this is some sick joke to you or something?”

“No, never, Y/N, just listen to me.”

“I don’t want to!” The tears rolled down my cheeks and I swiped at them so hard that I thought I scratched myself. At least I could feel something because my heart felt numb. “You catfished me!”

“I just wanted to talk to you, I really do like you, Y/N. Tyler and I are the same, just different names,” Nate insisted, coming closer.

For some reason, I didn’t move. I didn’t know if it was from emotional exhaustion or stress, but, I let him approach me. I kept shaking my head.

“No,” I hiccuped.

“I wanted to meet you tonight because I was tired of lying. I want to figure this, us, out,” Nate said.

I sniffed. “Us?”

At that moment, I could actually see his face and Nate seemed so hopeful. There was a slight smile on his lips and his eyes seemed light for once. Maybe he wanted there to be an “us”. Maybe, despite all logic, he wanted to talk to me seriously and could not do it offline because of his reputation. Maybe, he was over the on-again-off-again situation with Maddy. Maybe, this was my chance, our chance.

I wiped my face again, mentally cringing at how upset Jules would be for my ruining her masterpiece.

“Yeah, us.” Nate stepped closer to me, gently wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into his chest.

Gradually, my muscles relaxed and I relished in the feeling of his strong upper body and his warmth. Then, I began to feel pressure on my waist and gasped as it intensified.

“Nate, you’re...squeezing...too hard,” I rasped out.

And he started laughing, no, cackling. As he laughed, his grip tightened and I continued gasping and clawing at everything I could.

“Nate...stop!”

But he kept laughing and squeezing. When he finally released me, I looked up and saw nothing behind his eyes. Everything in me told me to run, but, I knew he could have easily caught up to me.

“I really thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. C’mon, you couldn’t honestly think that I would do all this to be with you,” he sneered.

“So why do it then?” I asked, my voice so small that I could have kicked myself for it.

Nate sighed and folded his arms. “Because you made it so easy and, to ask for a favor.”

“What? That makes no sense,” I argued. “I told you I owed you one that day you gave me a ride!”

“Yeah, well, I needed to make sure that you were available when I needed you.”

“Whatever, screw you,” I hissed as I pivoted on my heel.

“Too late for you, you’re already screwed.” Nate pulled out a folder from inside his jacket pocket. “Remember those special pictures you sent to Tyler? Well, they count as distribution of child pornography, which has a hefty fine and sentence.”

My mouth opened and closed several times before I faced him and responded. “But...but you held them, doesn’t that count towards possession? And, you’re extorting me!”

Nate glowered at me and stormed over. “Heresay, no solid evidence for your case. Plus, I’m a Jacobs, so, who are you kidding?”

I felt so sick to my stomach that I could have thrown up, fainted, or cried at that moment. This was not real, this could not be real.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Like I said, just be available when I need you.”

“Fine.”

“Sorry, what was that?” He gripped my chin his hand and forced me to look up at him.

“Okay,” I said softly.

“Hmm.” His eyes scanned my face before he released me. “And if I ever hear you judging my relationship with Maddy again, these pictures are going to be the least of your concern.”

I nodded weakly, regretting every single thing I ever told him. Nate Jacobs was truly the devil. He wandered off into the night like a centurion leaving a victorious battle. It seemed like he always won.

I managed not to start crying until I was on the empty sidewalk. No, I sobbed so bad that my throat went dry.

How could I have been so stupid? I should have known it was him that day Maddy yelled at him for texting all day.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

My sobs continued as I grabbed my phone and texted Rue.

Y/N: U were right.

#euphoria imagine #nate jacobs imagine

412 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 38]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Not sure how long I’ll go. Maybe be an hour may be six. We’ll have to see!

Chapter 15

Patton strolled up to the doors to the royal wing, his arms crossed casually around his middle.

Kalani raised an eyebrow as he approached and gave her the most innocent expression he could. “Whatcha got there, Pat?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he asked, as his sweater squirmed. “What do you mean?”

She considered him for a moment. “Well, I see nothing suspicious here,” she said. “Do you Owen?”

“Nothing,” he replied without hesitation.

Patton grinned at them both.

Kalani leaned in like she was going to tell him a secret. “Who is it?”

Patton made a show of glanced around like he was hiding it from anyone passing by. Then he shifted around to pull up just the bottom of his sweater.

A small black paw reached out from the depths of his sweater and swatted at the air.

“Ah, I see,” Kalani said, reaching out to touch the little paw. “Hello, Mittens.”

Patton giggled as Owen poked the cat’s stomach gently through the sweater, making her wiggle a bit and try to bite him.

“Well,” Patton said. “I better be off with my totally normal sweater.”

Kalani nodded and stepped to the side, and Patton was free to head down the hallway to Logan’s room. Patton knocked on the door with their new extra secret knock and Logan all but ripped open the door. “I’m late. I have to go,” he said, darting past Patton.

Patton smiled, happy that his plan to be running a little late to come watch Virgil had worked so well, even though he felt a little bit guilty about it. He hoped Logan wasn’t late to his meeting, but he also knew that if Logan had noticed Mittens, he wouldn’t have let her into the room.

Virgil was already out of the closet, sitting on one of the chairs. Patton came in and smiled at him. Unlike Logan, Virgil’s attention was immediately drawn to the oddly shaped lump in Patton’s sweater.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” Virgil said.

“It worked on Logan,” Patton defended himself.

“Logan was about to rocket into space if you didn’t show up in 5 seconds,” Virgil pointed out. Patton just shrugged, and Virgil tilted his head. “What do you have?”

Patton grinned wide and carefully pulled Mittens out of his sweater. She did not resist this maneuver at all, simply purring. He held her up for Virgil to see. “Ta da!”

“A cat?” Virgil said.

“This is Mittens,” Patton said. He then turned to Mittens. “Mittens, this is Virgil. I thought I’d introduce the two of you!”

Virgil blinked at the cat. Mittens blinked back. Patton thought maybe he should have let them sniff each other from under a door before doing this.

He didn’t need to worry though, as Mittens started purring after a moment. “You can pet her,” Patton offered. Virgil looked up at him. “Just…” he said.

“She likes chin scratchies!” Patton prompted.

Virgil reached out a hand to scratch under her chin and that was the end of it. Mittens stretched out her chin happy to get the attention and Virgil’s eyes widened at how soft her fur was. It was a work of minutes before Virgil was sitting down on the floor and Mittens was happily kneading his thighs and spinning around in circles to make sure he pet every inch of her.

“I did not understand why people like cats,” Virgil commented. “All I’ve seen of cats is people coming back with bloody scratches from trying to pet them, so I never even tried.”

“Well,” Patton said. “Cats are just like people. If you’re nice to them, they’re more likely to be nice to you.”

Virgil’s hand paused briefly on the cat’s head, but then continued with the petting a moment later. Patton wondered what he was thinking about, but didn’t press.

“She seems to like you,” Patton said.

“Don’t know why.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Patton scolded.

Virgil hands jerked away from the cat he’d been petting and then were forced abruptly to his side in reaction. Mittens meowed, seemed very unhappy with the jostling as well as the sudden lack of petting.

“Sorry,” Virgil said, eyes wide. “What did I do wrong. I didn’t mean to be mean to her.”

It took Patton a moment to sus out what he was talking about and felt a pang in his chest when he did. “Oh, no honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I meant don’t be mean to yourself.”

Virgil gave him a confused look. Mittens bumped her head against his chin and with a blink, he cautiously went back to petting her.

“Of course, she likes you sweetie, you’re a good boy.”

“I came here to kill the king. I’ve killed before.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I don’t think you ever wanted to,” he said. Virgil seemed to grow very interested in mitten’s ears. Patton scooted over so he was sitting beside him and carefully brought a hand up to touch the top of his head. Virgil sort of curled into him, pressing his face against Patton’s shoulder, but continuing to pet the cat.

“It’s fine. You’re going to be okay now,” Patton said softly.

Virgil shook his head against Patton’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Patton insisted. “You’ll be okay. You won’t have to go back.”

Virgil didn’t respond for a long moment. “You can’t keep me in Logan’s closet forever,” he said softly. “When his dad comes back, you’re going to have to turn me in.”

Well, that was true, but… “It’ll be okay. No one will hurt you.”

“The kings would be assassin?” Virgil asked skeptically.

“Thomas is nice. He’ll understand.”

“He’s nice to you. He’s nice to Logan. Maybe he’s even nice to the people he rules over, but what am I? An enemy assassin who would have slit his throat if I hadn’t gotten the wrong room.”

It…it did sound bad when he put it like that, but, but… “Thomas will understand,” he promised, hugging him tight. “He will, and we’ll keep you safe and I’ll introduce you to every single cat in the castle. In fact, we’ll get you a cat to keep as a pet if you want and he or she can snuggle you as much as you want. I’ll show you all around the gardens and introduce you to Mama and help you figure out what your favorite type of cookie is. You’ll never have to hurt anyone again and no one will ever hurt you again.”

Virgil drew away a bit and shot him a half smile. He clearly didn’t believe him, and it made Patton’s stomach twist a bit. Patton knew. He knew Thomas would be nice. There was no way he’d hurt Virgil. Virgil was just a kid and with Logan and Patton on his side, there was no way anything bad would happen to him. He could see it from Virgil’s perspective though.

“I like her feet,” Virgil said, touching Mittens’ little black paw that contrasted her otherwise white coat. Mittens purred and began kneading his legs again with those paws. “I’m guessing that’s why she’s named Mittens?”

“Yeah,” said Patton softly. “‘Cause she looks like she’s wearing mittens.” Virgil leaned forward to kiss her little head and that little action made Patton’s heart ache for him. He deserved so many kitten kisses. So many.

Patton was determined to make sure he got them.

Chapter 16

“Well done,” Logan complimented when Virgil looked up at him for approval. It was the first time Virgil was trying to make the protection charms without Logan’s instructions. Logan was of course still in the room in case he had questions and the boy had a written set of instructions next to him, but for the most part Virgil was doing it on his own.

“Now,” Virgil said squinting down at the paper next to him, “we wait for 35 minutes.”

“Fifty actually,” Logan corrected offhand, focused on his own potion.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Virgil said. He grabbed the timer and set it for the appropriate time.

Then, he stepped away from Logan’s nontoxic potion station. Logan saw him edge a bit closer to peak at what Logan was working on, though he was careful to maintain a distance. Logan wasn’t sure if this was because he’d been warned of the possible harmful substances Logan sometimes used at his experiment table or because he was worried Logan might not want him to approach.

Logan looked up at him. “You can come closer. Nothing here is very dangerous.”

Virgil nodded and walked over to peer at the boiling pot. “What are you making?” he asked.

“I am once again attempting to invent a potion that will reliably remove cat hair from surfaces,” Logan said, glancing over at Patton.

Patton looked up from the bracelet he was making and stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I can never seem to find an adequate solution,” Logan said.

“The solution is to accept all parts of kitty love!” Patton insisted.

“Or maybe the solution is to exile you from my room for the rest of time,” Logan muttered. Patton chose to ignore him and go back to working on the bracelet.

“Do you want any help?” Virgil offered Logan.

Logan smiled at him. “I’m actually almost finished with this step and there isn’t much left to do but thank you.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted back and forth a few times.

“You’re well on your way to mastering this potion,” Logan said. “I was thinking that next I could teach you how to make a tracking charm. I marked a passage about it in the book on that shelf.” He gestured to one near the station Virgil had been working at. “Why don’t you go ahead and read that while you wait?”

“The…” Virgil said. “The green book?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I left a bookmark in the correct page.”

“Um… yeah, sure. I’ll go… read that.”

Logan nodded and turned back to put the finishing touches on his own potion as Virgil walked away.

Logan finished up his potion up after a few minutes and covered it to let it simmer. He looked over to see that Patton had flopped onto his back, still working on the bracelet and Virgil had sat near to him with the book on his lap open. Logan walked over to them.

“What do you think?” Logan asked.

Virgil glanced up at him. “Erm,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Which option do you like better?”

“…The second one.”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Uh… yes?”

“I’m surprised,” Logan commented. “I figured you would shy away from the ones that required a blood sacrifice.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t notice that. I would like to not do that one, please.”

“You didn’t notice?” Logan asked. “Half of the entire first page is dedicated to a discussion of it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Can you read the first paragraph on that page?”

He grimaced.

“You can’t read?!”

“Logan, tone,” Patton snapped when Virgil flinched.

Logan took a breath. “I am not upset that you cannot read, but what have you been doing for the past week when I have given you written instructions for the protection charm potion?”

“Not… read it.”

“How have you been making the potion?” Logan asked.

“I just remember the steps, and if I’m not sure I ask. You’re usually distracted enough that you barely notice.”

“If I had known this, we would have done a completely auditory explanation.”

“Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “You didn’t need to pretend, Virgil.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

Logan just shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, you are the one who is owed apologies from many people in your life for a multitude of reasons.” He knelt down to take the book from him. “Here,” he said. “For now, I will read this passage to you while we wait for the potions to finish brewing. Later we can talk about changing my lesson plans in reference to the potions as well as adding reading lessons into your schedule.”

“You… want to teach me how to read?” Virgil asked.

“If you are willing,” Logan replied. “It’s a useful skill to have and opens up many doors.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” Virgil said with a frown.

“If you can memorize an entire potion recipe from start to finish with inadequate vocal instructions, I’m sure you can learn the alphabet perfectly well.”

“Okay,” he replied sounding a bit doubtful.

“And once we get you to an appropriate level, I’ll let you read a book about stars I enjoyed in my youth.” He seemed pleased with that prospect, and Logan smiled at him. “For now though, let’s read this together.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. Logan opened the book in his lap and started to read. He noticed that Virgil was leaning over to look at the page despite the fact that he couldn’t read it, and so he began to point to the words as he read. His reactions to the words on the page were honestly quite funny when Logan caught them. His nose would scrunch up in confusion every time he thought an instruction nonsensical, and he’d squint his eyes at the words as though willing the sounds and letters to connect in his head. Logan wouldn’t be surprised with his memory if he had parts of it memorized by the end.

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After a few minutes of reading, a light weight descended on Logan’s shoulder. Virgil had settled his chin on Logan’s shoulder to peer at the words. Logan did his best not to draw attention to this fact and shot a glare at Patton when he clearly noticed, sitting up to smile widely at them. Luckily the boy was sensible enough not to squeal as he oh so clearly wanted to. Logan pointed out a picture while explaining what the caption said and then giving a personal antecedent. Virgil touched the page curiously and asked a question about the story before laying his head back down on Logan’s shoulder. They continued in this way until the potion was finished.

Chapter 17

Virgil’s suspicion was growing. Logan and Patton seemed to have something planned. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t seem to be malicious, at least, Virgil hoped it wasn’t. He truly didn’t think that Patton had it in him to be so clearly excited about anything cruel. He also didn’t think Logan had it in him to be cruel, he was just was better at masking his excitement.

“What?” Logan asked innocently when Virgil gave him a pointed look the second Patton left to do ‘something’. Virgil would almost believe he truly wasn’t planning anything if it wasn’t for the way his lips twitched just a bit at the corners. Virgil glared harder.

Logan dared to laugh lightly at the expression on his face. “Come here,” he requested. “Patton wanted me to make you pick out a book for him to read to you tonight since, I quote ‘You’ve gotten to read him all sorts of stories the last few days.’ I attempted to explain that it was not purely for fun, but he insisted.”

Virgil grumbled, but wandered over to look over at the books laid out on Logan’s bed, settling his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “What do they say?” he asked.

Logan pointed to each in turn. “Five Dragons and a Flame. The End of May. A Stone in the Meadow. Or you can continue to read The Never-ending Garden.”

“I want to finish The Never-Ending Garden,” Virgil decided.

“Good choice.”

“Now will you tell me what you’re doing?” Virgil asked.

Logan just chuckled. Honestly, it was like he didn’t know that he had an assassin right next to his carotid artery. “Why do you think something is happened?”

“Patton’s a shit liar.”

“Be careful,” Logan said. “I might just have to tell him you said that.”

“Then I’ll tell him what you said when you accidently dropped the lavender into that potion,” Virgil threatened back.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Truce?”

“On that,” Virgil agreed, “but you still need to tell me what’s going on.”

“It is a surprise. A nice surprise,” Logan informed him. He looked at Virgil’s face. “Don’t pout at me.”

Virgil had not been aware that what he was doing was pouting, but he did whatever it was harder.

“Patton would murder me,” Logan claimed, “but I suggest you try that on him the next time you have a chance. You will certainly get whatever you want.”

Virgil sighed and gave up, figuring he’d learn whatever the surprise was soon enough. He chose to flop down on top of the pile of pillows on the floor that had been laid out already. It was his fourth ever slumber party and the first had only been a week ago. He did not know much about slumber parties, but that felt like a lot.

Goodness, it had already been two weeks. He looked up at the ceiling. He felt safe here. He felt like he didn’t need to watch Logan’s every move as he organized things in his room, but it wasn’t going to last, was it? The king was set to be back in a week. Virgil needed to actually attempt to escape soon. He hated that fact. He didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to go back. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d figure something else out, but no mater what, he did have to escape, and soon. He looked over at Logan who was slotting the books Virgil hadn’t picked back into place on the bookshelf. Not tonight.

There was a knock on the door in a familiar pattern, and Logan walked over to open it for Patton. Virgil sat up to shoot a confused look at the giant thing that Patton rolled in.

“Ta da!” Patton said excitedly.

Virgil blinked at him.

“It’s food,” Logan explained.

Virgil perked up immediately. That must be a lot of food if he needed that to carry it.

“I know you haven’t gotten a chance to try a lot of different foods, so I asked Mama if I could use the kitchen earlier today and made a bunch of different type of food samples for you to try.”

That sounded like literally the best idea in the universe. These people were very good at surprises and Virgil would not question them again ever for the rest of his life (or, well, the next couple of days he was around them before he tried to escape and either managed it or died a bloody and painful death).

Patton seemed to feed off of Virgil’s excitement, practically vibrating himself as he gestured to different parts of the cart. “We have a bunch of types of cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, different smoked meats, six types of pasta, and every leftover I could find on this shelf. On this shelf, we have things with hot sauce, things with spicy dry rubs, curries, and things with a lot of peppers. I’ve ordered them by spiciness level so we can what you can handle, and we’ll only go as far as you want. Then this shelf is a bunch of types of cookies, mini cakes, pies, and ice cream!”

“We are not starting with the sweets,” Logan said firmly.

“But Lo!” Patton whined.

“We do not want to make him sick, do we?” Logan asked.

Patton pouted. Virgil honestly had no preference. All food was good food in his experience.

“Fine,” Patton said. “We’ll start with the cheese.”

They had him sit back in the center of the blanket pile and handed him little portions of things. Some of the cheese tasted weird at first and Patton would giggle at the faces of surprise he made, but Virgil managed to if not like, then tolerate almost all of them.

Then came the different sandwiches, some hot and some cold and all of the pasta and leftovers. Virgil eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo long after they had moved on.

“You can have some more at the end if you still have room,” Logan promised with a fond smile. Virgil frowned at him. “You want to try all of the food, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t eat an entire plate of fettucine alfredo.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan just rolled his eyes and passed him another plate.

Eventually they moved on to the next shelf full of what was deemed ‘spicy food.’

“Part of this is figuring out what level of spiciness you can handle,” Patton said. “So, tell us when it gets to be a bit too much and we’ll move on two the deserts. Also, milk helps wash the spicy stuff that so drink some if you need to!”

Virgil nodded and accepted the first dish on that rack.

Virgil, it turned out, liked what they called “spicy” food even though some of it made his nose run a little bit. It was kind of fun to eat them, honestly. Some of them hurt a tiny bit, but they also tasted really good. It was strange.

“I am impressed and horrified,” Logan said when he finished that shelf. “Do you… have nerve endings in your mouth?”

Virgil shrugged. “Well,” Patton said, sounding pleased. “Now it’s time for the best part! Assuming you still have room.” Virgil nodded immediately and Patton handed him a plate he’d covered with chunks of cookies he’d torn off. He ate every single one of those and then went through the rest of the deserts. Everything was fantastic and he’d like to investigate a few of the cakes once more, but…

He pointed insistently at the fettuccine alfredo.

Logan shook his head but handed it over. “How many stomachs do you have?”

Virgil did not care to respond, choosing instead to shove his mouth full of pasta.

When he was done with that, he laid back to relax and digest the food, feeling very content. Logan and Patton had also eaten a bit of the different dishes and were finishing up themselves.

“You good there?” Patton asked after a moment of Virgil just laying with his eyes closed.

Virgil nodded.

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Uh huh.”

“It seems he will not be doing any of the other planned activities for a little while at least,” Logan said. “So now might be a good time for you two to read,” he suggested. “I’ll get the rest of the food stored in case we want something more later.”

“Okay,” Patton agreed. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but felt Patton settle next to him. Virgil rolled slightly, so his head rested against the side of Patton’s leg. A hand touched softly down on the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil heard a page flip. “So, let’s see. I’m not sure when exactly you fell asleep last time, but how about we start at the Troll Bridge?”

Virgil hummed his ascent.

“Okay,” Patton agreed as he started to read. “‘Melly stepped onto the bridge backwards while sticking her tongue out at Al, but Lydia’s eyes widened as a large looming figure stepped up behind her….’” Virgil listened happily to him read about the four children. He liked this book. He hoped they managed to finish reading it before Virgil had to go.

Chapter 18

They made it all the way to the big blowout between Al and Melly where Melly got mad and left the group to their fate in the magical garden by the time Virgil awakened completely from his food coma (he’d never actually fallen asleep, or at least he always responded when Patton asked) and squirmed around for a bit before sitting up.

Logan hadn’t been particularly interested in the story he’d heard many times before and was reading a book of his own on Patton’s other side, but he put a bookmark in his book when Virgil sat.

“Want to take a break from reading?” Patton asked. “We can do a bit more later, but we have more than just food and books planned for tonight.

“Okay,” Virgil agreed easily.

“Great!” Patton said clapping his hands. “We’re going to introduce you to the most fun sleepover party event ever!”

Virgil tilted his head.

“Dress up!” Patton said. “Also make-overs. We’ll do you first and then we’ll help you learn how to help pick out other people’s outfits and make-up. If you want to, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yay!” Patton hopped to his feet. “You stay here. Lo and I will get everything ready.”

He pulled Logan to his feet and over to the chair that was the perfect height for doing make-up.

They set up what they’d need for make-up and then Patton instructed Logan to grab the clothes of his they usually used for this sort of thing out the closet that Virgil wasn’t set up in while he grabbed the pieces he himself had brought upstairs and strew them over the bed so they could see anything.

Smiling happily, Patton looked over at Virgil who had stood up in the giant pile of pillows and blankets to watch him with intense eyes. He looked like he was memorizing every action Patton took as though expecting a test at the end. He was so adorable. A rush of affection and a touch of mischief hit him suddenly.

“Hey Virgil,” Patton said. Virgil looked over at him. “Can I tackle hug you into that pile of pillows?”

“Tackle hug?” he asked.

“I run over and hug you so hard that we fall into the blankets. I do it to Logan all the time without warning, but I didn’t want to confuse you.”

Virgil considered the offer for a couple of seconds. “Okay,” he finally decided.

“Great!” Patton did a little hop before launching himself across the room. He slammed into Virgil, who apparently had very good balanced because they didn’t immediately fall backwards, but then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to let Patton slam him into the pillows, and so he fell back on his own power.

Patton giggled when they hit the ground and drew back to look at his face. “I got you!” He leant forward to kiss him on the nose. “Oh wait! I should let you fight back.” He propped himself up on one arm and held out the other hand. “Pinkie promise not to hurt anyone if I let you use the 3rd setting again?”

“Pinkie promise,” he agreed with a grin, linking their pinkies.

“Great!” Without hesitation, Patton did the hand motion to allow the restraints to be in the third setting.

Patton was on his back almost instantly, but he didn’t even have a chance to think about worrying before Virgil pressed a kiss to his nose in a mirror of what Patton had done a moment before. “I got you,” he said proudly.

“So, you do,” Patton agreed with a laugh. He reached up on of his hands to card it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil leaned into the touch and then practically melted on top of him. “Virgil,” Patton laughed. “It isn’t nap time.”

He grumbled something unintelligible into Patton’s neck making Patton giggle more.

“Sweetie, please.”

Thankfully Logan saved him from the unrelenting cuddling by poking Virgil in the side. “I have finished preparing the stations for the makeover and dress up. You need to get up now.”

Virgil made a noise that sounded like a growl, but he did roll off of Patton.

Patton hopped to his feet and helped Virgil up before pulling him over to the piles of clothes. “We pick the outfit first, but you don’t put it on. Then, we do your make-up and hair based on it. Then, we get you dressed and do touch ups. Okay? Pick anything you want.”

Virgil looked over the options, eyes going a bit wide. “It…” he said. “It all looks really fancy and expensive. Are you sure you want me to touch any of it?”

“We wouldn’t be offering anything we didn’t want you to touch,” Logan said gently. “In fact, I insist you touch all of it. Beyond just appearance, making sure the texture of the fabric is agreeable is a large part of this activity.”

Patton picked up one of the pieces of fabric he knew was very soft and offered it to him. He touched it with careful fingers, his eyes lighting up at the feel of it. They had to continue nudging him into feeling the different fabrics, and he hesitated when they asked him to pick his favorite at the end, but eventually he shyly pointed at a dark purple dress.

Patton clapped. “Great! Ooo, I already have some ideas for make-up that will go with that.”

Virgil let Patton pull him over to the chair they’d set up and settled down on it.

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Patton hummed. “I think silver and purple make-up mostly?” he said.

Logan nodded and they grabbed a few things from the make-up kit. Logan let Patton do most of the make-up as he tended to be better at the more creative parts, but Logan was the one who gave him the fancy winged eye liner with purple sparkles because he was really good at them.

“You look fantastic!” Patton squealed when they were done. He held up a hand mirror for Virgil who studied himself in it for a long few moments. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really nice,” Virgil confirmed. Patton smiled and hugged him.

“Next hair. We have a lot of accessories. I’ll let you pick from the purple ones.”

He and Logan sorted through the jewelry box full of different hair accessories for the royal family and ended up finding three purple ones. Patton hesitated a bit over one of them, but Logan picked it up and set it in front of Virgil for him.

“Your choice from these three,” he said.

One was a purple feather with little hooks to braid into hair, one was a smattering of purple and silver stars that would weave through the back of someone’s hair, and the last was a string of silver leaves with purple tips that would wrap up the back of a person’s head from a bun.

Virgil thought for a moment and then pointed to the one made of leaves.

Patton glanced at Logan who took the hairpiece. “I’ll do your hair right for that one,” he said. “I know how it fits.”

He grabbed the brush and carefully ran it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil seemed to like the attention, leaning into the touch, and a smile flickered over Logan’s face. Logan started gathering the hair together to make the low bun that would be the base of hair arrangement. Patton honestly did not expect him to speak, but then he did as he started to secure the piece with pins.

“This was my Pa’s favorite hairpiece,” Logan said. “Not the father you came here for, but my other one. He died when I was six.”

Virgil went shock still. “I don’t have to...”

“I wouldn’t have let it be offered if I wasn’t okay with you using it,” Logan said.

Virgil didn’t move as he finished securing the hairpiece. “There,” Logan said when he was done. He picked up the hand mirror and positioned it so Virgil could see. “It suits you.”

“I…” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, and he clearly didn’t know what to say.

“Now,” Logan said. “I believe there are some other pieces of jewelry that would match this very well in the other room. I…” he turned away. “If you will excuse me.”

He turned away and exited through his bedroom door into the hallway. Patton watched him go and then turned to Virgil. “I’m going to go make sure he’s okay, okay?” Patton asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there’s just a lot of emotions.”

“I can take it out…” Virgil said.

“No,” Patton said. “I think he likes that you’re wearing it.” Virgil bit his lip. “He never really moved on,” Patton felt inclined to say. “This is… a lot for him, but I think it’s good too.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of his head, being careful not to mess up his artfully done hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to follow Logan out of the room.

Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

“Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

“I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

“That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

“Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

“That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

“You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

“So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

“Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

“Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

“I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

#proofread stories #not writing

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beatskylar · 4 years ago

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A broken memory, is a knife to the heart. part 2

Part one.

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Julia’s heart breaks at the sight of Carmen, the loving and free women she fell in love with trapped between four walls, broken and gone. Her bright grey eyes that used to display love and respect for the man in front of her, now showing agony and hatred.

Chief informed everyone in the room that due to Carmen destroying the memory restoration device when she did, that there is a 74 percent chance she will be facing a similar situation as Mr. Calloway: stuck in a limbo of sorts, remembering two different versions of her life. The line unclear to her which is a lie, but that she will choose the reality she has been living.

If Julia thought what VILE did to agent Devineaux in their brief encounter was terrible… she doesn’t want to even imagine what they put Carmen through, if and for how long they tortured her till she broke.

She should have done something: got in contact with team red sooner or set her plan in motions without chief’s approval. She is never going to forgive herself.

“Carmen, you need to rest. You should not be fighting.” Shadowsan’s voice breaks through her thoughts, calm and patient against the unrest she feels. She tries to relax and remember that she isn’t the only one watching the grainy security feed. Zack and Ivy stand by each other, neither dare utter a word as they watch their boss refuse to listen to Shadowsan. Julia can’t help but remember when Carmen told her how the twins are balls of energy, especially Zack.

“I’m telling you Jules; I have never seen them so focused before. Three days with no sleep and yet neither of them showed any signs of exhaustion. It was like just being in the same room as each other, was keeping them constantly energized.” The two quietly laughed at the story the thief finished recalling, the time she foolishly bet against the duo that she could stay up longer than them.

“I bet there is never a dull moment when they are in the room.” Was all Julia could reply, trying to hide the blush that arose due to Carmen using the nickname, a sure-fire way to make the agent blush in an instant. She hopes the thief doesn’t notice it, but she doubts anything gets passed Carmen.

Her suspicions are confirmed when the thief smiles, the smile only reserved for her. Sincere, happy, and attentive. The same smile she always wears around her, somehow becoming brighter whenever she get Julia to blush.

Agent Devineaux and agent Zari sat quietly at the table in the middle of the room, both watching the scene unfold. Agent Zari only wanting to be in the room to see the great Carmen Sandiego and understand how ACME has been unable to successfully capture her till last night. Agent Devineaux on the other hand is clearly worried over la femme rouge, gasping when Carmen breaks free of Shadowsan’s grasp only to hit the steel sink in the middle of her back. He’s quick to hide his worry by pretending he’s gasping because he moved and irritated the injuries Carmen inflicted on him.

Julia can see through his charades. His feelings and opinion over Carmen changed ever since the two worked together to save Julia in Egypt, even before that. Chase had finally seen Carmen for who she truly was, a thief who stole from other thieves.

Then VILE happened.

“Don’t touch me, traitor!” Carmen yells, not even batting an eye to hitting the sink. All her focus is on Shadowsan. She isn’t going to let her guard down.

“Can you tell me more about… Shadowsan? Did I say his name right?”

“Jules you should know by now, you are never wrong,” the lady in red pauses for a moment, deciding what she should tell. They both had a clear rule that they followed. Whenever they had time alone, neither would reveal anything too important involving their work. “Okay, I can tell you that he means the world to me. I am extremely lucky to have him with me, since the very beginning, even if I didn’t see all the help he was giving me.”

“You’re lucky to have each other.”

“I’m lucky to have team red and you.”

“Can we turn off the audio, please?” Player ask from behind the laptop’s screen, and when Julia looks over at him, she sees clear sings that he has been crying silently. Besides Shadowsan, he’s known Carmen the longest and was the last person to believe that his best friend was stealing for VILE, despite all the evidence they collected during her crime sprees.

He didn’t even believe Zack, Ivy and Shadowsan when they told him the terrifying truth. Carmen attempted to murder the redheaded male; he only accepted the reality when he saw it for his own eyes. The black and white video Julia found showing Carmen and Zack. The latter begging for help and with a wickedly sweet voice Carmen told him the fate that awaited him.

“That’s impossible! Carmen loves us, she would never do anything that puts us in danger,” Player denied, shaking his head as he ran his hands over his exhausted face, clearly tired of this conversation. “We are her family, and she would die protecting us.”

“Player please- “Ivy tried to calm the teen, but her brother interrupted her efforts.

“I looked her dead in the eyes, Player! She looked right at me while I asked if she was okay, if she recognized me!... All she said was that she recognized a problem, right before she kicked me,” Zack finished quietly, biting his second index finger knuckle as he shakily inhaled and exhaled. Tears threatening to fall down his face while he recalls the events he lived through, as his sister begins to rub his back, trying and failing to comfort him. “I don’t know what or how, but VILE turned her against us.”

“No, she has to be playing them. You know, destroying them from the inside out, right?” Looking over at everyone one at a time, his gaze remains on Shadowsan’s when he speaks again, “You know Carmen, she’s not capable of doing such a heinous crime. That’s why you failed her, because you knew deep down, inside your heart she could never take someone’s life. Carmen wouldn’t try to kill Zack, or anyone for that matter.”

“I know how hard this is to hear, but only because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s a lie.”

With that, the entire room falls into silence. Seconds quickly become minutes, and those minutes feel like lifetimes. Julia can see in Player’s eyes that he still doesn’t believe them, and she won’t blame him. For so long, Carmen always presented herself as untouchable, even when she was clearly injured, she fought on. She stood her ground against VILE and ACME, and despite both organizations best efforts Carmen was always one step ahead of them.

“Player, I need to show you something,” unlocking her tablet, Julia quickly located the carnivals security cameras. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to show you this, but it’s the only thing that will open your eyes. Despite Mr. Calloway turning off the electricity at the carnival, the cameras inside each pod continued recording, running on their backup batteries.”

The video immediately begins when the power was cut off, Zack on his knees while Carmen stalks towards him. The camera’s angle above the door still being able to record the pleased smile forming on Carmen’s face. “Carm, what’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me?”

“I recognize a problem.” In an instant she kicks him, a swift kick to his chest with enough power to push him back and through the closed doors. Zack yells as he barely manages to grab a hold of the side of the pod, the scream of the people below barely being loud enough to be captured by the camera.

“Carm, help me. I can’t hold on.”

“See all those tiny dots?” The camera is no longer to see Carmen fully, but her voice is clear as day. The venom from her words deadlier than poison. “Try hitting the one that looks like your partner on the way down.”

“No!”

With that Julia closes her tablet and before she can apologize to them, Player speaks up. “I’m s-s-sorry Zack. I-I-I should have believed y-you.” Tears roll down his face, as he struggled to finish his sentence.

With a sigh, Chief walks over to the console and flips the audio off, throwing the room in complete silence as no one knew what to say. What do you say when someone as great as Carmen Sandiego falls?

No noise is produces as everyone watches Carmen continue to strike at Shadowsan, both clearly speaking. Carmen’s right foot springs into a forward motion as she uses the momentum to rotate her body at 180 degrees, missing Shadowsan completely as her foot comes in contact with the wall. Without even reacting to the pain, she just put herself through. Immediately she spins with her left elbow out, but she is only able to hit the wall again. Nothing seems to register in her mind as she pushes off her right foot in an attempt to punch the ninja, but luckily, he’s able to sidestep her and knock her out in a second. A single attack to the back of her neck is enough to make her fall into his waiting arms.

Cradled by him, he says something before he lifts her in his arm completely. Holding her bride style against his chest as he walks them back to the bed, being careful to place her down gently. Kneeling by her side, Shadowsan remains by her side for a moment before rising and leaving.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room they are in, being right next to Carmen. His features remaining neutral as the twins hug him for a moment before remembering who he is. Both whisper their apologies, but he simply places a hand of each of their shoulders.

“Agent Zari has agent Strode given any indications of when she will be able to fix the device?” Chief asks, looking directly at agent Zari, who looks down at her phone for a brief moment before replying.

“A few days at most.”

“Tell agent Strode to report to agent Argent the moment she is done,” taking one last look at Carmen, Chief fixes her gaze towards Shadowsan. “How long do we have before VILE starts suspecting something is wrong?”

“I am unable to tell. Carmen’s father was able to go weeks, even months without contacting them as long as he always made his prolonged trips worth it. Ever since his death, they never allowed a faculty member to leave their headquarters unless it was absolutely necessary,” he pauses as he looks at Carmen’s unconscious form, and Julia might be seeing things, but she swears she saw a single tear roll down his face. “If Crackle is telling the truth, they might be showing Carmen leniency due to her high success rate.”

“So, maybe, we might have a few days at most. Does anyone have a plan to keep VILE unaware of all of this or help Carmen remember the truth?”

Julia hates the silence that continues to overtake the room. A room filled with four agents of a brilliant organization, a master of remaining unseen, a professional driver, a strong mechanic and skillful hacker can’t find a solution to save Carmen.

“What if we do our own version of a bait and switch?” Zack offers, his voice quiet and unsure of himself. When everyone looks at him, he seems surprised at his own idea.

“Like we did in Stockholm?” Player ask, and slowly the twins start forming the plan.

“Yeah. We throw VILE off Carmen’s scent! Ivy could dress up in Carmen’s coat and hat- “

“Popping up around the world and we pretending to rob something of historical importance!”

“We make sure the news knows its ‘Carmen’ committing these crimes and ask the authorities to hide the artifacts till we save the real Carmen!” Zack and Ivy bounce the idea off each other, both interrupting the other when needed to tweak the plan. She won’t lie, it seems like a doable plan considering Ivy has already been able to trick ACME and she doubt VILE is going to know better than they did. Plus, Chiefs already been able to get the Eye of Vishnu back on display and she has enough connections to continue.

“That would buy us some time. If VILE sees that Carmen is simply continuing to steal, they won’t ask any questions.”

“And I think I know how we can jog Carmen’s old memories back.”

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#carmen x julia #julia x carmen #carmen sandiego #player #shadowsan #agent devineaux #zack and ivy #julia argent #julesthief #jules argent #my writing #vile faculty #acme

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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The Crane Team: Sons of Amaterasu

The Family Sends Their Regards

“Crow, I need you to pick up some folks for work.”

The hiring process had gone without a single hitch. No doubt that Yoko Uesugi had the backing of Nanami Sakurai so very little ‘vetting’ was actually done of the candidates. Crow trusted Yoko too but at least give them an interview outside a bar.

“I drove you once and now I’m a professional driver?”

“You promised to help me, this is for the cause!”

“Ugh… fine.”

“Thanks. A few of them are still nervous about… going out. Thanks for understanding.”

He got the address of a single spot outside a diner where he was supposed to pick up members of the Clan. This Clan formerly known as Devil and now was just going to be awkwardly absorbed into the Hydra to form what was simply known as the Japan Branch of Cassell College.

Crow leaned against the car, smoking. Were all the Cassell branches this fractious? He wondered to himself, blowing out a plume of smoke. No, likely not. Unless the men running those branches were just as corrupt as Tachibana. Part of him understood Ms. Sakurai’s desire to seal the documents surrounding the horrors under Genji Industries and Tachibana’s plan to turn Erii into a dragon. Half the Hydra members wouldn’t believe it. The other half might even agree with it.

His phone buzzed again. “I gave them the all clear.” Yoko texted. “They’re coming.”

Three people he recognized as the men from the bar emerged from the diner. They were all wearing suits and ties but they still looked like a bunch of rough rascals as they glared at him. Kiko reminded him a bit of Yasha, the way his eyes scanned him with a cocky smile. Ryuusei gave a cheery wave and invited himself into the front passenger side. “Thank you so much for the pick up!” The man had his hair back into a dark ponytail. When he pulled the handle, the door was still locked. “Uh…”

“Listen… There are still people out there who don’t agree with this whole arrangement. Yoko’s doing her best but she can’t do it alone. You’re not getting in my car unless I have your word that you’re not going to let her down.”

Ryuusei’s eyes widened slightly. “I would never! Yoko is my one true love. The guiding star of my life!”

Crow turned slowly to him with a disbelieving curl of his lips.

“I’ll do my best!” Young Hayato bowed deeply.

Crow nodded approvingly. “Hayato sits in front. The other two in the back.”

“Are you her boyfriend?” Ryuusei barked, stepping away from the door for a happily smiling Hayato.

“Yoko is a married woman, unless you believe that your Dragon Lord is dead. His body was never recovered at the Red Well with the others. Pursue her at your own risk.” Crow unlocked the doors.

Crow kept his eyes forward as he led his group of misfits from the elevators on the legal department floor of Genji Heavy Industries. Among Hydra, there was a belief that Devils gave off a certain smell. The way certain Hydra looked at the men with him in disgust, Crow could imagine that perhaps that was true. A new area where they would work was sectioned off. Even though they were in the same building and worked for the same company, the Hydra were reluctant to have them by their sides. But at least the area was well outfitted with phones and PCs and comfortable chairs. Most had already arrived on the phones.

“Wow they even have her name on our cubicles…” Hayato breathed.

“Yoko will be here in a minute to explain. I’m going to go smoke…” Crow turned on his heel.

“Don’t go too far.”

Ryuusei had been about to open his computer when Yoko’s voice reached his ears. He spun to face her. She was resplendent in a black long sleeved jacket, short skirt and black heels. She was smiling as though greatly moved by something. Heavy gold chains hung from her neck.

All the members of the Devil Clan stood up in a silent salute and then bowed humbly. Crow remembered the old man Tamayuki’s words. Whether or not she accepted the title, Yoko was the Chief of the Devil Clan.

Had anyone told him that within a few months, Devil clan members would be working on the dime of Hydra in their headquarters, he would have marked them as a lunatic. Had he known that this was going to be the end of things… how different would he have acted towards them? The faces of Devil Clan members flashed in his mind and he forced his mind away from that useless sense of regret. None of what happened back then was anyone’s fault and yet Devil and Hydra were both at fault. True justice was likely impossible. The only solution was to move forward and leave the old ways behind.

“Thank you… for coming here today.” Yoko said in clear and fluent Japanese. “This is a new beginning for the Japan Branch. Things will not go smoothly or evenly. But when those disruptions come, roll with them, like the waves of the tide and stay the course. The goal is reunification. Please… do not forget that. No matter what.”

The Devil Clan members let out a shout of “Hai!”

“Ganbatte.” Yoko bowed and they all bowed again.

She turned on her heel and stepped out of the office. Crow followed her out. “Crow there’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s very important. I know you’re… probably busy.”

“I’m not.” Crow said.

“Then follow me.”

Crow followed her through winding corridors and up abandoned staircases to an unknown area of Genji. “Thank you for picking up those guys today.”

“Nothin’ to it.”

“You can say that… but it's important. I hope you can continue to help out.”

“You want me to hang around them to get close to them. I get it. You said it before. Hydra and Devil Clan in the same room.”

She nodded to herself. “Yes. The separate seating arrangements were not my idea. But they won’t be able to hole the new employees up in their separate area for very long. My hope is that the Devil Clan members themselves will try to mingle. I can’t convert everyone on either side. I just have to trust their hearts.”

“Trust their hearts… huh?” Crow said.

“Someone once said that the strongest thing about Gen Chisei was not his dragonblood but his heart. At first I didn’t believe it.” She glanced down the stairs at him.

“Understandable. Those were your boyfriend’s chains.” Crow said, nodding to the bright gold chains.

“You were there.” She said quietly.

“I heard everything. I’m … truly sorry.”

“Thank you…”

“What made you change your mind about the Young Chief?” Crow asked.

“I didn’t change of my own will. As far as I was concerned, Chisei was a monster. But it was because someone I cared about loved him. And I couldn’t hate him if he loved him so much.”

Crow blinked in confusion for a moment but continued to follow her.

Eventually, they reached the converted vault apartment where she lived. “Come on in. It’s alright. We have to meet here because this is the only place I can talk freely.”

Erii peered out of her room and waved at Crow before disappearing back inside.

“It’s about a boy. The one at the orphanage. I had him taken out from there and placed under the protection of Cassell members.”

She led him to her own bedroom and shut the door. Crow looked around. The space was small. The furniture was simple wood. The bed was plain construction with plain sheets. The only accessory was a small sailor moon doll striking her signature pose on the dresser.

She pulled a tablet from the wall charger. “Please listen to this.”

She pulled up a file and pressed play.

A young boy’s shaky, barely audible voice came from the speaker. “They broke down the door and started shooting. I went to hide in the safe room right away. But my friend ran out of the room.”

“They just started shooting? No warnings? Nothing?”

“No.”

“What about your friend?”

“He ran back into the wall.”

“What do you mean into the wall?”

He… had his back to the wall. He put his hands up like this…”

“And…?”

“They shot him a lot.”

“Did you see what they looked like?”

“No… they had their faces covered. Just one had a tattoo. The one with the sun.”

Crow sighed as the recording finished. “Look. That time was crazy…”

“Crow. Don’t. Don’t excuse it. That boy wasn’t even a Devil. He was a Hydra child.”

“There were people who died who weren’t even Hybrids! It was crazy! We didn’t have control of the gangs. They just followed orders.”

“Were those orders to murder a whole family without remorse and gun down a child in a house?” She snapped. “If Chisei were here would he have approved of this?”

“These things happened. He never did anything about it.”

She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “If we don’t… do something about these people. This is not going to work. You can’t expect reunification to happen with the Devil Clan making all the sacrifices to clean up the mess. And these people are part of the mess.”

She pulled out another folder. “This is the witness testimony I’ve gathered so far. None of these people want to be named as witnesses. They’re that scared. This boy is the only live witness I have to these murders who’s willing to talk and he’s too scared to use his real name. And he’s in hiding. All of them who survived just said these men had sun tattoos. They all kept their faces covered. Every time, it was the same. Everyone was killed regardless of what they said or did. The survivors either hid or they played dead. No one escaped. Those who ran were hunted, caught and killed. They wanted no witnesses to hide their atrocities! I need your help, Crow. I need names.”

“No one is going to prosecute these guys. They’re harder asses than Chisei ever was. Even to each other. They’ll get off and come after you.” Crow’s eyes were serious behind his lenses.

“You know who they are.” She leaned forward.

“Yeah. I do. And I can tell you that they’re nuts. Zealots. A separate faction within the executive board. They were focused on the extermination of the Devils. They believed in a pure White King bloodline that did not produce Devils. Only Emperors. That’s why they called themselves Sons of Amaterasu, because they wanted to have an Emperor Bloodline.”

“They’re going to cause trouble. It’s better to nip it in the bud now.” She put the documents away.

“I’ll see what I can do behind the scenes.” Crow said. “Let me try first.”

That night a gathering took place in a historic mansion outside of the city. It was once a Castle stronghold of a village that had long since lost its identity but none of its grandeur. There was no way to get to the mansion. One had to know where it was and turn down a poorly lit path through dense forest to arrive at a padlocked gate. But intruders never make it to the gate.

Everyone arrived armed with swords from the Sengoku Era. This clan of Hybrid were once noble Samurai beholden to a single Daimyo. But after that era faded away, they split into separate families. But they were always beholden to the cause. No Devil Child would survive in their household. They didn’t care to keep them in prisons. They simply killed them as soon as they were identified. The parents of such children were either run off their land, killed, or sterilized. As a result, the appearance of Devils among these families was one of the lowest rates in all of Hydra. Anyone who had born to them a son or daughter that was a Devil had their bloodline abruptly ended.

This is what Crow meant when he said that they were as harsh with each other as they were to Devils.

They sat across from each other on pillows, their ancestral blades placed politely in front of them. They kept their faces masked even amongst each other, their glowing tattoos their own identifier.

“It appears we are all that is left.”

The seven of them sat in a circle, their feet covered under a heated table. “Is there any possibility of continuing the bloodline at this rate?”

“The good women kept frozen embryos and eggs and the good men kept their sperm well banked in case of this catastrophe. It will take a generation, but I believe recovery is possible. Also, the widows are still available. It’s our men who are scarce.” Said another.

“What threatens us now isn’t genetics. It’s the current atmosphere of Hydra. Even now, those Devils have infiltrated right in the middle of Genji. It won’t be long until Hydra is completely corrupted. The Emperor line will be impossible.” A man at the head of the table spoke in a soft voice. “The population of Devils will explode.”

A gloomy silence was around the table. “With Nanami Sakurai at the head… we have no hope.”

“What are you planning? You don't intend to take violent action? Her installment was sanctioned by Amaterasu no mikoto…”

“He was not a true emperor.” The man at the head of the table said. He waved his hand and three women came with documents in their hands, heads bowed. They were Geisha, their faces painted a ghostly white and they delivered the documents and disappeared like phantoms. The men at the table opened the folders and gasped as they read. “Is this true? There was a second Gen brother? And he was a Devil?”

“He was the ultimate Devil. The Dragon Lord, Ruri Kazama.”

“Where did you get this information?! Some of this is dated 20 years ago!”

“It’s too accurate to be falsified. The man who has delivered me this documentation is here now. You just can’t see him. Chisei Gen was a creation in a lab, along with his Devil Brother. Tachibana was aware of this and so was the King General of the Devil Clan. Hydra was never going to produce a pure hybrid line. Tachibana was actively harboring and creating Devils.”

“Why is this source helping you?”

The man at the head of the table smiled viciously. “I’ll let him speak for himself.”

Sure enough, the empty space behind him was suddenly occupied by a European looking man in a prim suit. He was carrying a large silver case that looked like it would be too heavy for an ordinary person to lift.

“We are willing to pay handsomely for the elimination of both Yoko and Erii Uesugi. It will for 4 million to retain your services and 14 million if the targets are eliminated and the skeletons of both delivered. You will be well armed to also create as much havoc as you wish. Once the task is completed, you will be sent to protective custody to hide out for a while until things die down.”

One of the men looked the man up and down. “Why would we hide out?”

“Killing Yoko Uesugi will attract the ire of the Gattuso heir. Once the job is done you must leave immediately.”

A sudden chill fell over the table.

“If it means the Salvation of the White King descendants from being corrupted by Devil blood, then the sacrifice will be worth it.” said he man at the head of the table.

“What do you get out of the deal? Why do you want two Devil women dead?”

“That information is classified.” The man set down the case, typed a code in a keypad and stood back. The metal case opened and deformed into a rack of alchemical weapons! “This is the finest weaponry in Dragonslaying. No dragon can withstand this collection. Make good use of it. I’m also entrusting you with these.”

He held out two pieces of dark wood blocks which the man at the head of the table took.

“With these you will disable Erii Uesugi. She will be the easiest to kill. Your leader has been trained in their use.”

#Dragon Raja

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cheekysos · 4 years ago

Text

Between Hate and Lust Part Four

Ashton Irwin x Plus Size Reader

Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on writing part four but there’s a handful of people interested so thank you to them. Definitely think this is the dirtiest thing I’ve written to date so I hope you guys like it. I’m not writing this series to exclude any body type, shape, or size because everyone’s bodies should be accepted and celebrated. So I am very sorry if this in any way excludes anyone, that is not my intention. If there’s anything you’d like to read please leave a request in my asks and I will try my best to do it justice. If you have any feedback please let me know.

Summary: Ashton and Y/N go back to her place to finish what they started in the parking lot

Warnings: LOTS of smut, masturbation, oral sex, protected sex, dirty talk, swearing, very light bondage, and choking.

Y/N’s POV

Your legs were practically jelly walking to Ashton’s car. You still kind of hated him but you were desperate for more of him, to taste him and to feel him. It definitely wasn’t your proudest moment leaving your best friends wedding without telling anyone just so you could indulge in crazy hate sex but you were way beyond the point of caring, you’d do damage control once you came down from this high. You have never experienced an orgasm like that before. It’s possible it was because of the risk of it, the idea you two could get caught at any second or maybe it was because you had such a strong hatred for Ashton and there really is a fine line between hate and lust. Most likely it was simply just because of Ashton, how skilled and tentative he was with your body and how you reacted.

Driving back to your place was torturous, you were conflicted with rethinking your decision and just reaching over and taking care of him right then and there but big girls and car sex is not always great, especially with a smaller car like Ashton’s.

“Can see those wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours.” Ashton interrupted. “You thinking about how many times I’m gonna make you cum?” His massive hand started to knead at the meat of your inner thigh. He was so cocky and clearly still playing games. You reached for his hand and removed it from your thigh. He shot you a quick confused look as you brought his hand to your lips. You guided his two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and sucking. He shifted in the drivers seat when you removed them from your warm mouth. You spread your legs and pull aside your panties for him with your free hand while your other guides his coated fingers into you.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, “such a needy little thing. Can’t even wait ten minutes to cum again.”

“Just shut up, before I do it myself.” You moaned. Shit ,you hated how sexy he was.

“Then do it. Fuck yourself with my fingers, show me how to do it.” Ashton’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. He was driving you insane and he wasn’t even doing anything, but you did as you were told and slid down the seat making yourself comfortable. You lifted your leg slightly up onto the compartment of the door, gripping his hand tighter and began to fuck yourself with his perfect fingers. They were long and thick and filled you to the brim. You could feel Ashton stealing glances from the road probably too often to watch you.

"Look at you, you’re insatiable. Think you can cum before we get there?” he questioned.

“Maybe if you shut the fuck up I could.” That was a lie, you hated how much Ashton’s dirty talk turned you on.

“I know you’re lying,” he scoffed. “I can tell you like to praised, told how you’re such a good girl, how you take cock so well.” His voice was rugged and scratchy, it sent a shiver down your spine.

The knot in your stomach was ready to burst for the second time that night. You pushed Ashton’s hand firm against your pubic bone, desperate for some sort of friction on your throbbing clit. He could clearly tell you were close because he took over, allowing you to focus only on your orgasm which is exactly what you did. Before you knew it you were coming undone around him.

“Look at how wrecked you are with just my fingers can’t imagine what you’ll be like wrapped around my cock.”

Ashton’s POV

The car ride back to Y/N’s felt like the longest car ride ever. She was driving you mad and your cock has never been harder, watching her in the passenger seat of your car, getting off using your hand. It took everything you had to not crash the car or pull over on the side of the road, but you meant it when you said you wanted to take your time and treat her right like she deserved.

When she finally came you were just pulling up to her apartment. Your hands were all over her and she fumbled with her keys, cock pressed firmly against her voluptuous ass, lips latching onto her earlobe.

“Open the goddamn door before I break it down.” you growled.

She chuckled while she turned the key and opened the door. She spun around and attacked your lips. You kissed her back as you both stumbled around in the dark towards her bedroom. You pulled away from her and took in the sight. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips were pink and swollen, and her hair was disheveled but she looked as gorgeous as ever.

“Turn around.” you whisper. She stepped out of her heels and turned away from you. You brushed her hair to the side and kissed down the back of her neck and slowly unzipped her dress. You peppered kisses across her exposed shoulders as you pushed her dress down her body.

“Gimme your hands doll.” Again she complied without an backtalk. You removed your tie from around your neck and gently tied it around her wrists.

“This okay?” You waited for her approval.

“Yes,” she panted. “More than okay.”

When she turned around she instantly dropped to her knees. You undid your belt and trousers more desperate than you would have liked. Within seconds your pants were around your ankles finally exposing you to Y/N for the first time and you’re almost positive you heard her whimper. She looked up at you through heavy lustful eyes and licked her lips before she leaned towards you. She licked up the length of your cock all the way up to the tip, lapping up the precum pooling at your slit. Her lips surrounded the head as she slowly slid down your shaft and buried her nose against you. She felt absolutely incredible, so warm and wet, you actively had to focus on not cumming then. You gathered her hair as you slowly guided her.

“I knew it, knew you’d take my cock so well. Such a good girl for me.” The moans she was eliciting from you were almost embarrassing but you couldn’t help it, she felt amazing. She steadied her pace, bobbing up and down on you and looking up at the entire time. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer if she kept this up.

You stepped back slightly so she could release your cock with pop, “up.” you panted.

She looked almost disappointed to not have you in her mouth anymore. As she got to her feet you quickly discarded the rest of your clothing and removed a foil packet from your pocket. You admired her as she stood in front of you in a matching black lace bra and panties. The shape and curve of her body was mouth watering, you wanted to touch and kiss every inch of her skin.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous you know that.” She looked down at your words.

You lifted her face and wiped the saliva collecting in the dip of her chin. “On the bed. On your knees and face the wall. ‘m gonna fuck you now Y/N.”

Those pretty pink lips of hers parted, probably to voice a snotty remark but you shot her a domineering look and she instantly reconsidered. She climbed on the bed and faced the wall while you removed the condom from the foil and hastily slid it onto your throbbing cock. You sauntered towards her and ran your hand down the length of her spin, her skin instinctively producing goosebumps from your touch. Slowly you looped your fingers in the waistband of her lace panties and pulled them down. You couldn’t resist the urge to cover her ass in raised bright red hand prints. Her yelps were accomplished by soft little moans that made your cock twitch.

“Please. Just fuck me already.” Her tied hands reached for you behind her back.

Your pushed her forward, her face pressed into the mattress and your hands splayed across her ass checks exposing her dripping core. Fuck your mouth watered at the sight. “Be patient or you won’t cum again.” You spoke against her center, inhaling her arousal before lapping it up, tasting her excitement.

“Oh fuck Ash.” she whimpered.

You lined yourself with her entrance and teased her slit with the tip of your cock. “Tell me you want me.” you grunt.

“I want you, I need you!” she begged.

You slowly slid into her tight cunt and stayed there, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of her inside her. You hadn’t even properly moved inside her yet and you could already tell you’ll be addicted to this feeling, addicted to her. When she started to push back against you you knew she was ready for you. Your hands latched onto the curve of her hips as you started to thrust in and out of her.

Both of your moans and grunts filled the air while you fucked her. She looked ravenous like this, her face in the mattress, hands tied, ass in the air, and pussy lips gripping onto your cock like they were holding on for life. You grabbed onto her restricted hands and pulled her off the mattress, deepening and quickening your thrusts into her. Her back was almost flush against your chest as you took her from behind.

“I...’m close,” she heaved. “Choke me.”

Fuck, she’s definitely going to be the death of you. You wrapped a hand firmly around her throat and applied pressure. A few thrusts later she was crying out, her climax finally taking over. Her walls clenched around your cock, squeezing you so tightly she milked every drop of cum you had into the condom. The two of you stayed pressed against each other with your cock buried inside her for a bit while you both came down from your highs. You kissed her shoulder up the length of her neck until you caught your breath.

Y/N’s POV

Ashton slid out of you after your third orgasm of the night. You mewled at the absence of him and fell onto the mattress. Ashton untied your wrists and you turned over on your back. He pulled off the used condom and tossed it into the bin. He crawled over to you and hovered over your body and kissed you softly. You were starting to like him and you hated it.

“That was...incredible.” that stupid beautiful smile was plastered across his sweaty face.

“It was alright.” you teased. “Like I said still hate you though.”

He snickered. “How will I ever change your mind?”

You ran your fingers through his chest hair, “A couple more orgasms would be a good start.”

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harryspet · 5 years ago

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A Wife’s Duty [2] h.s.

[Warnings] a f’d up fanfic based on the handmaid’s tale, commander x wife, harry styles x named oc, noncon spanking, abuse, verbal abuse

In which Harry establishes her place in his home.

check out my my #masterlist for part one!

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

Part of her felt violated. Like Harry had reached into the darkest part of her mind. Of her soul. She thought she’d feel clean and rejuvenated with the Lord’s spirit after consummating her marriage with her husband. Instead, she felt dirty. Dirty for letting someone touch her in that way and dirty for feeling so much pleasure from it.

The next morning, Harry was not lying beside her. She debated continuing to lie in bed but the sun was already up and she didn’t yet know what would be expected of her here. She didn’t want to make a bad impression by rising too late.

She found clothes waiting for her on the dresser, most likely laid out by Imogene. She carried them to the bathroom and as she glanced at herself, she noticed how disheveled she was. Her hair was a wild mess, her nightgown was riding all the way up, and bruises decorated her waist and thighs. Her neck was bright red and, as she lifted her gown, she noticed her neck was too.

He might as well have given her tattoos.

She frowned at herself. Had he really held her that hard? She wondered if she had left any marks on him.

Last night, Harry was an animal and she was the sacrificial lamb that was thrown into his cave. The moment was only awkward on her end and it made her wonder how many times he had done something like that with another girl. He had her first kiss and virginity. What did she have from him?

Ember showered and dressed in a cream-colored knee-length skirt and a pastel blue sweater. She wondered if it is a turtle neck was a coincidence. Either way, she was grateful because she didn’t feel like parading around her new home like a common whore. No matter how Harry treated her.

In a pair of beige flats, she headed down the stairs, once again staring at that beautiful chandelier.

The aroma of cooking breakfast filled the air and she followed it to where Harry showed her husband was in the dining room. At the head of the table sat her husband, eyes focused on the newspaper in front of him. There was a placement sad beside him so she assumed it was for her but, still, she stood in the entrance waiting for him to acknowledge her.

It seemed he was already done with his breakfast, toast crumbs sitting on his plate and his coffee cup empty. He looked over his newspaper and his eyes raked over the girl in front of him. His wife. Newly deflowered, “Are you not hungry?” He asked, expectantly.

She blushed. Gosh, it seemed like she couldn’t make any of the right moves with him. She walked over to the seat beside him and pulled out the chair before sitting down, “I’m sorry for being late,” She folded her napkin neatly on her lap.

“I’m just early,” He spoke concisely as Imogen appeared to say good morning and to refill Harry’s cup of coffee. Ember smiled at the older woman and, despite how she felt like a new person from yesterday, the woman returned her warm smile.

There was lots of food spread over the table, more than both of them could probably eat. She hoped it wasn’t going to waste. Still, she filled her plate and began to fill the hole in her stomach.

“Alec is out back,” Imogene spoke to Harry who didn’t even lift his head from his newspaper, “It seems our new little filly is a bit of a handful. But she seems playful.”

“Tell him I’ll be out in a moment,” Imogene only nodded.

Swallowing a piece of bacon, Ember looked to Harry, “A filly?”

“Yes,” He looked up to see she was still confused and sighed, “A baby horse. A girl.”

Ember’s eyes seemed to widen a bit, “You have a baby horse?”

He began to fold his newspaper, “I have several horses. But you, Ember, have a baby horse,” She almost choked on her food.

“I-I what?”

“A wedding present from my uncle. She was born three weeks ago,” Ember blinked, eyes wide. She smiled but part of her was scared of smiling. Smiling meant she was okay with this. Smiling meant she was accepting a future here, “I’m assuming you’re happy about it.”

Ember nodded, “Yes, of course. No one’s ever gotten me . . . anything before. Let alone a horse. I cannot wait to meet your uncle, he seems like a kind man.”

Harry didn’t comment on that and she couldn’t read his eyes for a sign of anything. He was really good at hiding things.

“Who is Alec?” Ember asked next.

Harry frowned before taking a sip of his coffee, “He tends to the land and the animals. You can meet him after breakfast. If you finish anytime soon,” With that, she stopped talking and finished the rest of her plate.

Ember named her Blue. She wasn’t blue. She was blonde actually but she liked the name and neither Harry nor Alec protested it. She stood behind a tall white fence, watching Alec, as he played with the filly. She was still very wild, running away when she called him and biting at him when he got too close.

Alec was handsome with reddish-brown hair, freckles that decorated his nose and a nice smile. He seemed like someone she might’ve been friends with if she hadn’t been shipped off to Haynes Girls Reformatory at such an early age. There were no boys there, she almost felt weird when Alec was so nice to her.

Alec led the baby horse closer to us, “Here, you can pet her, Ember. I’ll put my hand down to show her it’s okay and then you can touch the same spot, okay?” She nodded eagerly.

A quick glance at Harry showed he was hesitant but Ember was too excited to care. She reached over the fence to place a hand on the filly, right where Alec’s had been, and gave her a soft pat, “See, she likes you, you’ll be riding her in no time.”

“I can ride her?” She looked at Alec with a childlike wonder.

“When she’s much older and trained. And after you’re trained too Ember,” Harry interjected. Her smile fell a little bit but she just continued to pet the horse.

I didn’t seem like Harry wanted to stick around for much longer after that. He escorted her back to the house, she waved goodbye to Alec, and he went off to do whatever the Commander's did. She thought she should be more curious about what he does but, honestly, it was the last thing on her mind.

She didn’t understand how the man could go from making her claim she was his to being cold and distant. She was more curious about the man beneath the mask of the Commander.

She found a small library on the second floor, each wall covered in a giant oak bookcase and a comfortable seating area by the window. She simply picked a book, a classic one that would make her look smart in front of whatever posh people Harry associated with. She unleashed the tight bun her hair was in and relaxed. A hundred pages later and she was dozing off.

She awoke to a car pulling in front of the home. Harry was back from the meeting with the guy on the phone from yesterday, she assumed. She was about to begin another hundred pages when a thunderous boom roared through the house, the slamming of a door.

Ember sat up from her spot, shutting her book slowly, before going to peak out the door. She can hear that downstairs Harry was yelling about something and Imogene was trying to calm him. He spoke some cursed words and Ember wondered how he could speak that way in front of such a nice woman.

Ember left the room, tiptoeing downstairs so she could see what was going on.

“What do they want from me, huh? To roll over like a dog! I sit on committees, I run campaigns, I go to their charity fundraisers, hell, I even got fucking married. And the comments keep coming. They won’t ever stop!”

“Harry, please, if you don’t go along with them-”

“I know, I know. Political suicide. It’s not what my mother would have wanted, I know. I fucking know-”

Ember rounded the corner into the kitchen, “You shouldn’t speak to her that way,” The words left Ember’s lips before she could stop them. His eyes narrowed her and even Imogene seemed to freeze.

“What did you say?” Harry seemed to snarl, taking a step closer to her.

“I-I mean … I-I wanted to help. I understand that you’re angry, Harry-”

“Commander,” he interrupted with venom in his tone, “I’m your Commander. You will address me as such. You will not help because you know nothing. You will not even take a single breath unless I approve it. And you’ll return to your room without another word, Ember.” He wasn’t shouting anymore though she felt a pounding in her ears. What was she to do? He looked like he was going to explode at any moment.

Her eyes began to well up with tears and she turned to walk away. She covered her mouth, trying to hold in a sob, as she hurried up the stairs.

Imogene was not the one who gave her the information that she was being summoned to Harry’s study. It was a younger servant, one who had a scar over her left eyes that told me that it was missing. She wondered who had been able to hurt a young girl in that way.

His study was opposite the library and two giant dark wood doors separated it from the rest of the house. Ember knocked with a trembling hand and she heard him murmur to come inside.

Ember slipped inside, her head so low that she couldn’t even take in the vast room. She felt her eyes on him and she shook even more.

He sighed, “You think I’m a monster, don’t you?” It wasn’t really phrased as a question.

“No, Commander,” she lied.

“Imogene thinks I am. Half of one at least. She’s understanding of my moods. She raised me so she’s accustomed to it. My intention was not to disrespect her and she knows that “Ember was quiet. Maybe that kind smile she received from Imogene meant more than she originally thought. The woman probably knew there were bruises beneath my sweater, “If there’s one thing you need to know about me, Ember, is that I do care. A lot. Imogene and Alec were all I had. And now that you’re here, I assume we will get to that place too.”

He was pacing in front of her and her eyes were now on his black shoes, “I also care about my family and, this is the life they wanted for me, so I will respect that. I care about having a favorable view in the eyes of my constituents and fellow commanders. To do that I need to have control in my city but also in my own home. You have duties as my wife and one of them is to not overstep me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ember whispered, the words barely audible.

“You will be,” He spoke as he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, before dragging her over to a leather couch. He sat down before rustling her small body over his knee. He held her upper body down with his elbow as he lifted her skirt and lowered her panties, “You’ll make it worse if you squirm.”

Only five seconds later she had gone rigid as she realized she didn’t want things to get worse.

His palm ran over her bare bottom as he said, “I could’ve used my belt,” she flinched, “And I could’ve made Imogene and Alec watch since their members of this household. Consider yourself lucky that I’m giving you a chance.”

She whimpered and he only hit her bottom hard, “Say thank you.”

“Thank you!” She rushed out before quickly adding, “Thank you, Commander.”

“I’ll only give you ten if you can be a good girl and thank me for each one.”

She nodded quickly before saying, “I’ll be good, Commander.”

And then it really began.

One. “Thank you, Commander.”

...

Three. “Thank you, Commander.”

...

Seven. “T-Thank y-you, Commander.”

...

Ten. “Thank you, Commander! Please, please, please, stop!”

He sighed, lifting her underwear, before pulling the sobbing girl into his chest. She had nowhere to go, no other source of comfort so she held him tightly.

She was convinced that he would have little problems from her seeing as she could barely handle ten from his hand. Threatening the belt would be very effective.

He let the girl soak his white t-shirt with her tears as he ran a soothing hand down her back and fingers through her hair, “You’re mine, Ember, through good and bad behavior. In the end, I’m still going to be here,” Ember simply closed her eyes and welcomed the silence.

My request are open! Part 3 of this series is already posted!

#dark fic #harry styles #harry styles au #fanfiction #one direction #one direction smut #one direction fanfic #harry smut #au #series #oc #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #one shot #dirty one shot #dirty harry #handmaids tale au #niall horan

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 10 [Final] (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| previous chapters

A/N:I started writing this and I was like “so it’s going to be around 15k words top” and HERE I AM… no self-control whatsoever… anyway, I’m very happy with the result.If you have made it this far, thank you so much I hope you had a good time reading it and if it put a smile on your face I’ll be more than joyful 💛✨

-10-

Priyanka never –in a million years- thought she was going to feel as relieved as she was when she heard the sound of her car’s engine working again. Yes, maybe it wasn’t the newest car or the best car and yes… it was a gas-guzzler that ate her salary like a snack… but it was her car.

“Have you considered selling it?” The mechanic asked while he cleaned some grease with a rag.

“What?” That man was messing with her.

“One of my clients saw it the other day and liked it, said something about having one like this when she was younger. She asked me if I could extend her offer.”

“No, I mean…” She shook her head. “It’s not for sale, it’s my car and…”

The man handed her a piece of paper with a number written on it.

“Wow… and this is… wow.”

It was more money than what her car costed with the repairs and spare parts included. Way more…

“Can I make a quick call? I’ll be right back” She grabbed her phone from her backpack and called her father.

“Hello?”

“Hi, dad… I’m at the mechanic’s and there’s someone who wants to buy my car…” Her father cackled. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

“Sorry… Your mother is going to be very happy about it. She has been trying to make you get rid of it for years and now you finally have the chance to…well, get rid of it.”

“I mean, I know I won’t get a better offer than this but at the same time… this is my baby and we fought so hard to have it back fully functioning.”

“The alternative was taking it to the junkyard.”

“Does everybody want to see my car turned into a cube of scrap? No need to answer to that.” She took a deep breath. “Do you think you can call the mechanic and check if the offer is legit?”

“I can drop by after lunch and talk to him if you want.”

“Please, that would help a lot.”

She needed to know if this person was serious about paying that amount of cash for her jalopy. Damn it, not jalopy, her car.

“My dad is going to come over after lunch to talk to you if that’s okay.” She explained to the mechanic. “Please don’t tell your client anything yet… I’m not sure I want to sell it.” She scratched her neck.

“No problem, miss. But I should give her a response by tomorrow at the latest.”

“I understand. You’ll have it.”

Priyanka drove back with her car with the windows down like she had done the first time she drove around the town, no music this time, just the tender summer breeze. When she stopped to refuel and at the gas station, she spotted a familiar yellow car parked across the street.

She honked her car horn causing the blonde to turn around with a grumpy frown on her face until she recognized the car and the owner.

“Well, well, well… look who’s back on the road.” Lemon lowered her sunglasses to take a look.

“Guess who’s back, back again.” Priyanka tapped the door with her hand before stepping out of the car.

“That’s something I didn’t think I’d see. I must admit it even looks charming without the smoke coming off the engine.”

“Yeah… that’s-”

She was on her regular witty comments but Priyanka noticed she had big dark circles under her swollen eyes that she kept behind her glasses.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Me? Ah, you mean… It’s nothing, just my allergies acting up.” She made light of the situation. “I was about to drop by the pharmacy to buy some medicine, actually.”

“Oh, I see… So… Did you two have fun yesterday?” Priyanka leaned back in the vehicle.

“It was cool… for a stupid lake.”

“Oh, c’mon, admit it, you did have fun! You were with me.” She playfully bumped her shoulder.

Lemon smiled but Priyanka wasn’t sure that was honest, she couldn’t decipher what it was yet but there was a hint of sadness underneath.

“Is Rita feeling better?”

“Huh? Ah, yes… I should get her some aloe ointment or an after-sun gel.”

“Remember when your mom used to do that thing with the glass of water when we got sunburn after going to the pool? I still can’t believe the water actually had bubbles after it.”

“Yeah…” She shook her head. “I…. She still does it and kids think it’s a magic trick.”

Something was off.

“I’m sorry but I have to ask you, what’s going on?”

Lemon shrugged. “What do you mean?”

“You’re acting weird today.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “Weirder than usual…”

“I’m not…” She rolled her eyes as the most Lemon thing she had done that day.

“Spill it.”

“I’m not-” She looked like she wanted the Earth to swallow her then she looked at Priyanka in the eye. “I’m going back to New York.”

“Next week… I know.”

“This Sunday.”

“What?!”

“I… have a dance thing soon and I figured it would be easier to go back on a day without the heavy traffic since I’m driving alone. Rita’s staying.”

“Oh.” Priyanka blinked twice trying to absorb the new information. “So you’re leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“Yep… I’m staying for one last lunch with my family tomorrow, the dinner at your house, and then I’m heading back early in the morning.”

“Okay… Uhm… That’s…” She scratched her head. “Soon.”

“I know it’s a bit rushed but… I’ve been here for a couple more days than you and… It’s weird, I’ve never been away from the city this long, I’m feeling a little homesick already.” She avoided her friend’s inquisitive gaze.

Priyanka nodded. “Alright.” She took a deep breath. “So… would you like to hang out today or…?”

“Uh, I can’t… I promised Rita I’d go shopping with her… you know, this was our bonding trip originally.”

“Oh, right… no problem.” Priyanka cleared her throat. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

The blonde nodded and whispered. “See you tomorrow.”

And that was their cue to leave separate ways.

Priyanka couldn’t wrap herself around the idea of not having Lemon around. It was like time had slipped off her hands like sand grains and there was nothing she could do.

It wasn’t the end, right? It was their new beginning.

Their second chance…

During Saturday afternoon, Priyanka’s mother kept running around the house making sure everything was perfect as if Lemon hadn’t been there before a million times. Not that Priyanka herself wasn’t nervous to have her back there but she was being more realistic, trying to accept the fact that Lemon was going back to New York meanwhile she was going back to Toronto. Their summer together had been cut short but at least they had the chance to make things right between them and this dinner was the stamp of approval of their flourishing new-old friendship.

Friendship.

It was more than she could aspire from the first time she saw the blonde again. It had been just a week ago but it felt like much more time had passed since then and, simultaneously, it was like time hadn’t passed at all. There was a portion of their lives that would ever be crystalized in the past and it would always look pretty and luminous under the light. That was what she wanted to think, at least.

After helping her mother in the kitchen with the basic knowledge she had of cooking -and as far as she let her help-, Priyanka took a shower and spent a long time trying to decide what to wear.

She didn’t know what kind of energy she wanted to radiate with her clothing, not too much, not too little… Lemon always managed to look good no matter the occasion and she had to live up to it.

She finally picked a simple black and white striped mini dress –actually the only dress she had packed-, she put on a pair of black Converse, brushed her hair, and did her makeup hoping for the best.

Lemon was supposed to be there in fifteen minutes and knowing her Virgo-ass she was going to promptly knock on her door at seven o’clock. Therefore, she had just a couple of minutes to check on the mirror before she arrived.

Priyanka went down the stairs just to discover a family meeting in her living room. Literally, everyone but her sister that lived across the world were there.

“Hi, Priyanka!” They greeted.

“Mom!” She yelled. “Why is everyone here?”

“This is a family dinner,” She said casually. “they wanted to see Lemon too.”

“Why did you tell them she was coming for dinner? I thought it was going to be just us and dad…” She whispered.

“She’s family and you said she was going home tomorrow. They all remember her, after all, you were friends since you were kids…”

“I know that but… Is that our picture from kindergarten?” She walked directly to the wall where all their family photos were. “When did you have the time to put this on?”

“I was cleaning the basement yesterday and I found it… completely unrelated to her visit. Calm down.”

“I don’t believe you…”

“You’re the one wearing a nice dress, look at you. You look beautiful.” Her mother adjusted her glasses to admire her.

“That’s not…” She blushed. “All these people have to leave… It’s too much.”

“You’re overreacting. We’ll have a good time.” She squeezed her daughter’s shoulder trying to comfort her. It worked for a moment.

At least half a dozen people were chatting, drinking, and eating snacks plus a bunch of children running around… it was… chaotic. At least something was cooking in the kitchen and smelled delicious.

Exactly at seven, the doorbell rang. The room went quiet.

“She’s here…”

Her heart was about to burst.

Priyanka ran toward the door and opened it.

“Hey-”

The brunette got out and closed the door behind her before she could say anything else. Lemon –of course- looked lovely with a denim button-front romper along with white sneakers. She had her hair down with some butterfly bobby pins.

“Hi.” Priyanka sighed. “So, long story short… My entire family is inside and they’re thrilled to see you again. I didn’t know they were going to be here… they weren’t supposed to be here but… If you want to run away, this is the moment.”

She stared. “I’m not running away… I told your mom I was going to be here and here I am. Besides, I already know your family.”

“Oh, it has multiplied since you last saw them, trust me.”

“Pri, it’s okay. Don’t worry.” Lemon put loose hair behind her ear.

“Alright… Maybe I’m exaggerating.”

“Look at you, admitting it is the first step.”

There she was, the little spitfire she knew. Maybe Priyanka was just imagining what had happened the day before.

She took a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s go in.” Priyanka linked their arms together and walked in.

They got into the living room where her family was.

“Everyone, look how’s here…” The brunette announced.

At that moment the room greeted her in unison.

Dinner went great –to Priyanka’s relief- after Lemon met the new members of the family and she got questioned for a half-hour, Mrs. Suknanan called everyone to sit at the table. They ate tons of food and told stories about their childhood that made her mother rejoice. Priyanka’s niece, Mel, was glad to see Lemon again as well and, in fact, stuck with her most of the evening.

As she should’ve expected Lemon was the perfect guest for their family dinner. She complimented Priyanka’s mother cooking and helped her with the dishes, she caught up with her cousins and sisters and told them about her life in New York, she even played hide and seek with her nieces and nephews and challenged the brunette to a jump rope competition.

“I’m just saying, you didn’t have to go full Jump in! out there.” Priyanka was still out of breath. “These kids used to respect me… maybe?”

Lemon cackled. “Well, you should’ve practiced when the movie had everyone buying neon ropes.”

They sat on the stairs on the porch at the entrance of the house. It was the first time in the evening they were alone, the voices and laughter could still be heard from the inside.

“Hey, thanks for… you know, hanging out with everyone. You’re kind of good at it.” Priyanka rested her head on the wood column.

“Are you suggesting that I might be… likable?” Lemon pretended to be shocked.

“Maybe…” She shook her head. “Just kidding, you’re great… you’ve always been.”

“No, I’m a bitch and I acknowledge it.”

“Look at you, the first step is admitting it…”

“Fuck off.”

The entrance door opened and Priyanka’s brother carried a sleeping Mel in his arms, his wife behind him was holding the baby, they silently waved at them and then got on their car. They were followed by Priyanka’s sisters and finally the cousins who even hugged Lemon and wished her a safe trip back home.

“I think they all left now. My parents are probably inside drinking tea already.” Priyanka checked the time on her phone. “It’s not too late yet, what do you say if we get some ice cream?”

“I shouldn’t…” Lemon looked at Priyanka and couldn’t say no to her face. “Sure. Let’s get ice cream. Is that place on the Third still open?”

“Yeah! Best ice cream in town, I can’t say it enough, I preach it like a religion.”

“Their chocolate peanut butter was heaven, chocolaty and… buttery.”

“Great descriptive skills… but I get the idea.”

“You were the one who got sick after devouring three cookie dough cones and missed school for two days.”

“I really thought I was going to get my stomach removed or something because my sister told me we were going to the hospital. I cried all day.” She started laughing. “Why do we think things like those when we are kids?”

“Talk for yourself, I’ve always been a logical person.”

“No you weren’t,” She called out. “you thought the moon was made of cheese.”

“Have you ever been to the moon? Do you have actual evidence it’s not made of cheese? That’s all I’m saying.”

“Wow, it’s almost like there wasn’t any scientific proof to contradict that.”

“I was seven…”

“Okay, lunatic, I have my keys; let’s go get the ice cream.”

“Do you want me to get into that…?”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“…deathtrap.”

“There she is.” Priyanka spun the keys with her index finger. “For your information, she’s fully functional now.”

“But is it a threat to humankind or…?”

“C’mon, you’re not gonna die… but if you do, we’ll do it together.”

“Ah, nothing excites me more than a Thelma and Louise reboot.”

Priyanka stood up and offered her a helping hand. “The night is young. I’m sure we can find some cliff if you stop whining.”

“Only if we get the ice cream first.” She held her hand.

“See, it’s not that bad.” Priyanka turned on the noisy engine.

On the passenger seat, Lemon rushed to buckle up. “I’m ready… to die.” She crossed her fingers in the air.

Priyanka laughed at loud. “It’s not that bad. At least I know how to use a gear level.”

Before Lemon could protest, they were moving. The night was surprisingly hotter than expected so since the air conditioner was even moodier than the car itself, they had their windows down –Priyanka’s favorite way of driving in town.

Lemon’s old house was on the route and Priyanka drove a bit slower when they got into the familiar neighborhood.

“Oh, look at it…” The blonde smiled softly. “It’s been a while but from the outside, it doesn’t look like it has changed at all.”

“A family is living there, two kids I think.”

“Yes, my dad told me.” Lemon rested her face on the car door as they passed by. “You know, back in the day, we left in such hurry I never got to say goodbye properly to this place. One day my parents were fighting, the next day we were packing and then… we were gone.” She extended her hand in the air as the house was getting behind.

“I remember. You didn’t want to leave.”

“Leaving the house… my life here… you… it was the most difficult thing.” Her voice almost cracked.

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t want to see Lemon crying.

“Okay, you know what… this visit to the ice cream shop wouldn’t be complete without some music…” She opened the glove compartment in front of the blonde.

“Celine Dion… I expected it.”

“No, under that one… Hey, Celine Dion is a great singer and I’m not ashamed of having her albums there.”

“You mean you have albums in plural?”

“Can you please get past my Celine Dion liking and pick another album?”

“I would but my heart won’t go on…”

“Shut up… that was bad.”

“Well, that’s what you get when you…” Lemon paused as she picked another album. “This is… Spiceworld.”

“The very same.”

“But… is it the one…?”

“It’s the one you gave me… Mine still works although it skips sometimes.”

Lemon’s bottom lip trembled as she had her eyes nailed on the album.

“Hey no… don’t cry,” The brunette put on the CD when they stopped on a red light. “there’s no crying if Spice Up Your Life is playing.”

“I’m not…” She sobbed.

The catchy tune started playing.

“When you’re feeling sad and low…We will take you, where you gotta go.” She encouraged her friend to follow the lyrics.

“Smiling dancing, everything is free… All you need is, positivity”

“C’mon, pre-chorus.”

“Colours of the world… Spice up your life!”

“Every boy and every girl… Spice up your life!”

“People of the world… Spice up your life, ahh!” They yelled at the same time.

Before hitting the chorus, Lemon was already cackling so loud she almost snorted. Priyanka was already laughing she nearly drove past the ice cream shop.

“We’re here.” She announced.

Lemon stared at her for a moment and shook her head before getting out of the car.

“I’m guessing you’re still going to order the cookie dough cone.”

“It takes more than a hospital stay to destroy a lifetime obsession.” She followed the blonde.

“That’s… wrong. You know what, maybe you need an intervention.”

“Uh, imagine something like AA but it’s for people with chocolate cookie addiction.”

“It’d be you and the Cookie Monster from Sesame Street sitting on an empty room.” She opened the door and held it for the brunette.

“But after the meeting, we’d be at the coffee table getting some snacks and guess what… chocolate chip cookies.”

“Utterly triggering.”

An older woman that was in line stared at them, their conversations out of context surely made more than one turn around. However, they didn’t even notice, their bubble was unbreakable.

They ordered their ice cream and sat outside the shop. Priyanka got her cookie ice cream and Lemon indulged herself with a chocolate peanut butter and raspberry double cone. The table was small and it didn’t have much space so they were squished there, comfortably chatting; seen from the outside, it looked like they were on a date.

They were halfway Spiceworld on their way back to Priyanka’s house when Lemon spotted it. Her eyes got wide as soon as she recognized the familiar location; the closed fence with the opening hours written on a wooden sign, the green lights shining inside, the fractured moonlight shining on the surface of the water and the eerie aura of a usually crowded place during the day and empty at night.

“Stop! Stop the car!”

Priyanka stopped the car violently making them shake on their seats.

“Are you insane? Why did you do that?”

“This is the pool,” Lemon looked amused. “the swimming pool we used to come when we were kids, right?”

“Yes?” Priyanka parked the car next to the curb. “Why are you so excited about it?”

“Because… before coming back I had a dream involving this pool… and you were on it!”

“Wait, what kind of dream?” The blonde was already out of the car. “Lemon, Lemon?”

She approached the –obviously- locked gate and tried to peep over it. Needless to say, she was unsuccessful at it and wasn’t very pleased with it.

“We have to get in.”

“Are you trying to trespass private property or something like that?” Priyanka stood, arms akimbo.

“Since when are you the sensible one?” She asked with disbelief.

“…You’re right. I think we can climb over the fence.” She suddenly felt the adrenaline rush.

“That’s the attitude.” She looked around. “Now… what do we do?”

“This was your plan.”

“Yeah… but I don’t usually break the rules so I guess it’s more of your area of expertise.” She batted her lashes, if Priyanka didn’t know better she’d say she was flirting but of course, that was impossible.

“Ha, ha, you’re funny…”

“I think I’m really funny.” She leaned against the fence. “Now… how are we going to get in?”

“Well, climbing seems the obvious choice but…” Priyanka took a look around. “I should tell you I worked here a summer to pay for my car and I know where they keep the spare key.”

“No way…” She gaped. “Wait, were you going to make me climb it on purpose?”

“I should’ve pushed harder just to see how serious you were about it.”

Lemon pushed her lightly.

“Hey! I’m the one getting you the key.” And with that said, Priyanka reached for the hidden key behind a loose brick. “Magic words?”

“Open Sesame?”

“Close enough.” She unlocked the gate and both got into the enclosure.

The green lights were on and it gave the pool a different appearance than what they were used to, everything was tinted under the bulb. The water of the rectangular swimming pool glowed in green. Even they looked fluorescent underneath it.

It smelled like chlorine and summer night.

“They use this color to keep away the insects… apparently it works.” The brunette pointed.

“This is so cool.” She walked around the edge of the pool. “This place hasn’t aged a single day.”

Lemon turned around with a naughty expression on her face. If it was possible, she looked even more beautiful while beaming.

“Are you coming or what?” She started unbuttoning her romper.

Priyanka ran out of words –something that didn’t happen that often but was becoming recurrent with Lemon-; the blonde surely wasn’t concerned they didn’t have swimsuits.

Lemon threw the piece of clothing away to where her sneakers were and jumped into the pool. The drops helped Priyanka to snap out of her rapture, she hurried to take off her dress and get rid of her shoes, once on her underwear she joined the other girl on the water.

She closed her eyes while she was in the air, it all happened in one second, she was floating and then her body impacted on the surface making a big splash, the water wasn’t cold but the temperature difference hit her to the core and made her feel alive. She touched the bottom of the pool and held her breath until her lungs demanded fresh air. Priyanka re-emerged and it took her a moment to get used to it. Her hair was completely soaked, her face was cover in drops and her makeup was ruined but she couldn’t care less.

Lemon had the biggest smile on her face the moment she opened her eyes, her hair had gotten entangled with the bobby pins and she had pushed it back making it look slick.

“So you were too good for a lake but a pool that a thousand kids use is better?”

The blonde threw water to her face.

“Hey!”

“I like this better… fewer people.”

“More like no people at all.”

“Exactly.” She floated around as if she was on a cloud.

“You said you dreamt about this… do you dream about me often?”

Lemon threw more water at her.

“Stop doing that to dodge my questions.” Priyanka swam around.

“I’m not going to answer them anyway.” Lemon giggled.

For a moment they floated in silence under the moon, under the artificial green light, their ears -as most of their bodies- were under the water blocking any sound aside from the movements inside, the way their hands created tiny waves, and how their heartbeats sounded. Priyanka’s kept beating loud enough to compete with a drum.

She stared at her friend and knew she wasn’t going to have another chance like that.

“Lemon…” She called.

“Huh?” The blonde stood up. “What is it?”

“I need to tell you something.” Her mouth was dry; she was shaking under the water. “I-”

At that moment an alarm went on, probably activated by a timed motion sensor.

“Oh shit,” Priyanka shouted. “We have to go. These people know me.”

“Oh my God…” The blonde’s eyes were full of terror.

They rushed to get out of the pool and grab their clothes before dashing out of the place.

“They didn’t have an alarm when I worked here,” Priyanka complained; her pulse racing as they left the pool and jumped back into her car.

The scene was ridiculous, all the dogs of the neighborhood were barking, the alarm kept ringing, Lemon was laughing out loud, Priyanka couldn’t find her keys and they were still in their wet underwear.

“Found them!” The brunette announced and turned on the engine.

She drove a few blocks until they were far enough from the pool and then parked because she couldn’t get to calm down. Lemon had her hand pressed against her chest; they were in the same euphoric state.

They exchanged a glance and burst into laughter at the same time.

“Oh my…”

“That was crazy…” Priyanka rested her head against the header. “I’m still shaking.” Her body was dripping over the seat.

“I know… I can’t believe we just did that.” Lemon took a deep breath. “My heart is beating so fast I might get into cardiac arrest.”

“Right? My hands are trembling… I don’t know how I got to drive this distance, to be honest.”

“Adrenaline, probably. Do you think they have cameras or something?”

Priyanka became pale. “I hope no, they know my parents.”

This made Lemon laugh again.

“Oh, you think it’s funny little rebel?” She poked the blonde’s arm.

“Wait, don’t do that, it makes me ticklish.” She kept laughing.

“You really shouldn’t have said that.” Priyanka automatically started tickling her.

“Stop! Stop!” Lemon kept giggling until she grabbed both of the girl’s wrists with her hands.

Suddenly, they were staring at each other in silence and daringly close. Priyanka hadn’t noticed how transparent their garments had become until that instant or how gorgeous she looked even when the messy hair and bare face.

Lemon wetted her lips as she let go softly. “What were you saying earlier? When we were in the pool…”

“Ah, that… well…” Priyanka took a deep breath, maybe the moment wasn’t gone yet, she still felt a bit courageous.

But then they heard the police sirens of a car passing by –maybe it wasn’t for them but they were still paranoid- so the best was to get out there and return to Priyanka’s house.

Lemon sighed loudly. She covered with the romper, shivering a little.

They were a red light from their destination when the brunette noticed the seats were going to be wet.

“Shit, I’ll have to take the car to the car wash or I’ll have to dry the seats with a hairdryer.”

“You’re taking care of it now?”

“I… actually sold my car this morning,” Priyanka announced.

“What? Okay, first of all, someone’s paying you real money for this? And secondly, I thought you loved this piece of trash.”

“Rude. You’d be surprised about how much I’m getting for it. Some rich lady named Jimbo –yes, that’s her name- wanted to buy it and she paid enough to cover the repairs done.” She held the steering wheel tightly. “And… I do love this car but… I think it’s time to move on to something else. I asked Jimbo if I could take her to one last adventure before handing the keys and I’m glad it’s with you.”

“Oh.” That was all she said.

The car stopped. They had arrived.

“Now, let’s get inside and find some towels.”

“Sure.” She mumbled.

Priyanka gave Lemon a towel and let the girl get dry before putting her clothes back on. The brunette did the same and then they drank some tea her mother had left ready for them. The hot beverage helped them recover the temperature on their bodies and left them feeling warm inside.

“I have your jacket in the trunk of my car… the one you lend me the lake day.”

“Ah, right… I forgot you had it.”

“Well, it helped me not to freeze to death.”

“It wasn’t that cold.”

“Penguin’s butt.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’ll go get your jacket and be right back.” She pointed at the door and walked out.

Priyanka got a full moment alone and she cursed herself for a full minute.

“Idiot, you’re fucking it up again… She’s leaving and you didn’t tell her a thing or two…”

She shook her head. Lemon was leaving and maybe it was for the best that she hadn’t confessed her feelings. What was the point? They were going different ways again…

Lemon crossed the door. “Here.” She handed the piece of clothing. “Thank you or whatever.”

“You’re welcome.” She threw the jacket over the sofa. “So listen… Uh…”

She stared at her friend. Lemon was breathtaking, every detail of her face was worth being drawn, portrayed, traced… Even the little eyelash resting comfortably on her cheek.

“You have a…” She pointed at her face.

“Uh? What? Is it a bug?” She started touching her cheeks.

“No, just an eyelash… Wait… let me…” She shortened the distance and tenderly brushed the lash off her face.

Lemon’s breathing tickled her skin.

Priyanka stared at her clear eyes for a moment, she hadn’t noticed her hand was still on her cheek.

“Sorry, I got it.” She announced showing the tiny lash on her fingertip.

Lemon smiled at her. “I should leave now… I need to drive early in the morning to avoid the traffic and I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah… I suppose.”

She hoped the disappointment in her voice wasn’t noticeable.

“Pri?”

“Uhm?”

“I’m glad that we’re okay now. Not having you in my life for the past seven years was awful. Let’s not fight again, yeah?” She held her pinky finger in the air. “I promise I won’t break this one.”

“Lemon, you’ll always be part of my life.”

Priyanka sealed the promise with her pinky and then hugged her friend.

Her heartbeats were so loud she was scared Lemon might hear them.

Priyanka opened the door.

“My car is at the end of the street, I can walk from here.”

“Do you want me to walk you there?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m fine… I’ll call you from New York as soon as I get there.”

“Yes, do that.” She took a deep breath. “Bye, love you…”

“Love you too.” Lemon blew a kiss in the air.

Priyanka closed the door. She couldn’t watch her leave again.

She started climbing the stairs. Her heart was supposed to be at peace –they were friends again- but she wasn’t happy about it… Lemon was leaving her again and words couldn’t describe how much Priyanka hated the fact there wasn’t something she could do.

Her dad almost bumped into her when she was lost in her thoughts.

“Hey pumpkin, be careful.” He was in his pajamas and a robe.

“Sorry, dad. I was thinking… too much.”

“You always do.” He patted her back. “Did your friend leave already?”

Priyanka nodded. “She has to go back to her home tomorrow morning.”

Her father frowned. “And you two are not spending more time together? You two used to be… joined by the hip? You cried whenever we went to pick you up from her house or when she left.”

Priyanka chuckled. “I remember… yeah…”

“I always thought you two…” He didn’t finish the sentence. “You were truly inseparable.”

She was trying to understand what he was truly saying.

He stared at her.

“And? Don’t stand there looking at me… go.”

“Dad? Are you…?”

He squeezed her shoulder. “It took me some more time but it doesn’t mean that I don’t want you to be happy.”

Priyanka felt her eyes getting watery. She hugged her father tightly.

“We can do this later; your mother is going to kill me if I tell her that you left that girl go.”

“Right…” Priyanka shook her head.

“Go!”

She ran downstairs almost flying over them.

Her father was right.

Her best friend.

The girl she loved.

What the hell was she doing there?

She had to get the girl!

Priyanka opened the door violently.

“Lemon. Lemon!” She yelled but the girl wasn’t on the street. Who cared if she woke some neighbors up? “Lemon!”

Was her car still at the end of the street?

“Oh, hey there…” A voice came from the porch.

Priyanka turned around and noticed the blonde sitting in one corner next to the door.

“Lemon, what are you doing there?”

She was sitting holding her knees against her chest. Priyanka got closer and kneeled next to her.

“I’m waiting to get some courage to knock on your door again and hopefully I’ll be brave enough then to tell you…” She looked at Priyanka in the eye, the words didn’t come.

“Tell me what?” Priyanka asked, desperate.

“That…” She bit her lips. “Forget it, I can’t ruin it… I can’t lose you again.” She was babbling to herself. Then she looked at Priyanka again. “Sorry, I’m just going to leave…”

She stood up and started walking fast.

“Lemon!”

She didn’t turn back. Priyanka stood up and grabbed her by the wrist, making the blonde face her. The tears were already rolling down her cheeks.

“I can’t let my friend walk away while being sad…”

There was a pause, they stared at each other.

“Am I really just your friend?” She finally cried out.

She hadn’t let go of her hand yet.

“No. You’re not… I mean, we used to be friends but…”

The moment… their moment was now or never… she had screwed it up before but she wasn’t going to let it slip again.

“I’m in love with you.” The words sprouted from her chest. “I’m in love with you.” She repeated accentuating every syllable.

“That’s my line,” Lemon complained, faithful to her character.

“Wait… is it? I mean, are you?”

“I’ve loved you all my life, you idiot.” The blonde was suddenly full of anger. “I can’t believe this… why didn’t you say something before?”

“When you say all your life…”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Priyanka I’ve never loved anyone else since that day in kindergarten when you shared your cookies with me and that’s embarrassing.”

“And why didn’t you say something?”

“You didn’t say it either!”

“Because I thought you just wanted to be friends with me!”

“Are you blind? I’ve been trying for days for you to notice… and that day on the stupid lake I really thought you were going to kiss me but you didn’t and then you said that it was never going to happen between us…”

“You heard that?”

“Of fucking course I did… And I cried for hours because I thought my chance was… gone forever… but tonight… I thought, maybe tonight… maybe… but you said those things about moving on to something new… and the last adventure with me…”

“I was talking about my car! You’re not a car… It’s not a metaphor, you know? I’m bad at metaphorical speech.” They were yelling.

“How would I know? You pick the worst moments to say things like those…”

“I said those things on the lake because I thought you wanted to be just friends with me and I didn’t want to make it awkward and I sold my car not because I don’t love it anymore… I did it because it’s old and I cannot travel anymore in that state… I can’t go visiting you with that car.”

“But you said…” Lemon’s bottom lip trembled.

“I know what I said but, after the past couple of days, I realized that, yes, I’ve grown up… I’ve changed but I’m still the same. I still like pop songs from the ’90s, I still like chocolate chip cookies in any existing form, I still like going on adventures, and, most importantly, I still like you… a lot.”

“You… I’m so mad at you…” She got rid of her grip. “I’m literally fuming, you are…” She stared at her brown eyes. “You’re the worst and…”

Before she could finish that sentence, Priyanka shortened the distance, grabbed her face, and planted a kiss on her lips, partially to shut her up and mostly because she had wanted to do that for so long. Lemon relaxed as soon as their lips touched as if her will to fight had abruptly disappeared.

It wasn’t her first kiss, it was a kiss that didn’t compare with the ones before but it would be the parameter for all the ones that would come after. It was a kiss that made other kisses seem insignificant and a kiss that rose up the standards forever.

Lemon smelled like chlorine and summer crush and she tasted like lip-gloss and warm tea. Priyanka entangled her fingers on her hair and pulled her even closer to the point their bodies were merging in a tight embrace.

“So you were saying,” Priyanka whispered when they reached for air.

“Shut up and kiss me again or I’m going to keep finding things to be mad at you.”

And Priyanka –gladly- did it.

They kissed some more while sitting on the porch until their lips were swollen and lightly numbed and then sat cozily with their legs entangled, stars above their heads and singing crickets on the ground. Priyanka thought she could get used to it.

Except, she didn’t have time to.

“Do you really have to go back tomorrow?” She asked, pinching Lemon lightly on her arm.

“I can delay it until Monday but… I have to be back next week for the dancing schedule.”

“Oh… I understand…”

They could have one more day then.

“But,” She began connecting her thoughts. “maybe there’s an alternative…”

“What do you mean?” Priyanka was puzzled.

“I don’t want to go back alone so… what do you say if you come with me to New York? You said you wanted to visit me there someday… why not now? You’re still on your break, aren’t you?”

“Yeah… I am…”

“Jan can stay with Jackie for a couple of days and you can stay with me…”

“Are you serious right now? Do you really want me to go with you?”

“Unless you want to stay with your family for what’s left of your break… I’d understand it.” She shrugged.

“You know what? I have the feeling that my folks are already done with my shenanigans…”

“I mean, who isn’t?”

“One would think that you’d act differently after having someone’s tongue down your throat.”

“Think again.”

“Anyway… Yes. I’ll go back with you.”

The blonde beamed.

“Great, so I can pick you up tomorrow before noon? You’ll need to pack and stuff.”

“I’m ahead of you… I never finished unpacking.”

“You’re actually the worst, did you know?”

“But you still like me.”

Lemon’s reply was to press a quick peck on her lips before she could say something else.

“And…? What happened afterward?” Denali was on the edge of her seat, she could see it even through the computer screen.

“Well… things were alright for a couple of days but then we realized that it was kind of awkward between us and we decided we’re better as friends.” Priyanka shrugged and spun a little on the chair.

“What?!” The other girl’s mouth dropped to the floor. “Are you kidding me right now?”

She shook her head, dead serious. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be after all.”

Denali’s eyes were like a pair of plates.

“Hey, I brought some coffee… Priyanka, are you still telling people we broke up?” Lemon’s voice broke the silence.

“Oh my God… I hate you so much right now…” She buried her face in her hands.

“Gotcha! I can’t believe you fell for that… Kiara, Juice… even Scarlett was dumb enough to believe it.”

Priyanka laughed her head off.

“Our friendship is officially over. Hi Lemon! How are you, my dancing diva?”

The blonde stood up in front of the camera almost pushing her girlfriend away. “Hi, Dee… I’m doing alright.” Her voice was melodic. “What’s up with you?”

“Just here, catching up with your awful girlfriend.”

“She scared the hell out of you, didn’t she?”

“First she leaves in a hurry without telling anyone and now she’s spreading some fake information… No… It’s a no for me.”

“Don’t worry, we’re actually –surprisingly- doing fine.”

“Hey, what do you mean by «surprisingly»?” The brunette hugged her from behind.

“Aw, you guys are so cute.” She smiled at them. “Wait, so you’re in New York now?”

“Yep, I’m staying for a couple more days and then I’m taking a plane back to Toronto.”

“And I’ll be visiting her there for the holidays in a couple of months.”

“Whoa, you have it figured out already.”

“And I didn’t forget that you have a competition here soon, I’ll definitely be here with you.”

“That’s great! I’m glad to hear it. Sure, oh… we’re going to have so much fun…”

“My friends are dying to meet you if you know what I mean.” Lemon winked.

“I can’t wait.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Listen, I’d love to chat some more but if I don’t go to practice there won’t be a competition to hoe around.”

They chuckled.

“Thank you for calling, Nali. I miss you already!”

“Miss you too, see you soon guys.” She blew a kiss in the air. “Bye-bye.”

“Bye!” They waved at the camera before ending the call.

“You’re so annoying sometimes…” Lemon kissed her quickly after saying that. She had a cup of coffee in her hands. “So… do you think this is going to work? At the distance and everything?”

Priyanka held her tightly in her arms making the girl sit on her lap. “I know we’re going to make it work somehow and… you know I’m graduating soon so maybe –just maybe- I could start applying for some internship here…?”

The blonde stared at her. “Really?”

“Don’t get too excited yet… I still have to do some things over there and I might take a while but…”

Lemon almost dropped her cup of coffee when she hugged her even closer.

“That would be… Pri… I’ve said it before but… I love you.” The same words acquired a new meaning in a different context.

Priyanka’s heart was full.

“I love you too.”

Priyanka kissed her forehead and let their words linger in the air. They were in a tiny student apartment in a big city, miles away from their hometown but they were together at last, at the only place they had always called home.

Maybe it was true, maybe we always come back to the place where we were happy.

And they were the living proof of it.

The end.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #lemon #priyanka #lemon x priyanka #childhood friends #lesbian au #friends to lovers #come home to my heart #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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yukiobeyme · 4 years ago

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Hi there! Just wondering if you could possibly write hcs for trans Beel or trans Satan? But if you can’t that’s fine.

I am supposed to doing my Civil Engineering HW? Yes.

I am coming back from the dead to answer this? Yes.

Can I talk about Trans!Beel and Trans!Satan all day? God Yes. Please ask me more talk to more about LGBTQIA+ and how it fits in Obey Me!

Thank you so much I hope I do this some justice. I am sorry how it got so long, but I got in the groove for this and I just came up with other ideas

Beel has some implied body issues, mention of top surgery and T-shots

So you more or less got Satan’s coming out story, I could have just written it as a fic and it would have probably been shorter and more concise. But I did add other headcanons as well and accidentally hc how Satan got his everyday outfit.

*Also disclaimer: Satan’s hc focus a lot on Parrotfish by Ellen Wittlinger being a gateway for him figuring out his identity. I have heard of it and seen both good and bad reviews. I recognize that some bad reviews implied that there are possibly inaccurate stereotypes but was a good starting point to introducing Trans Characters to fiction. I have never read it and can not confirm or deny what the reviews say.

Beelzebub:

From a young age he wondered why and how Belphegor were twins when he was a girl.

It caused a distaste in his mouth but more often than not he pushed it away.

It wasn’t until the Fall; did he finally act on it.

The first time he was called “sir” his heart almost burst out of his chest

He immediately told a sleepily Belphegor about it, he figured he wouldn’t remember in the morning

But boy was he wrong, it turns out Belphegor laid awake after Beel told him that. In the morning they talked about it again. Belphie offered his full support.

Belphie became Beel biggest piece in his support system. Like sure a lot of problems, he said maybe a nap or food would help. But it turns out he was right? (Well for the most part) but whenever Beel felt like everyone hated him and judging him, Belphie would wrap him up in the softest blanket in the house and they would take a nap together. Or when Beel seemed to be angry at everything and hated everyone, Belphie pulled him to the kitchen and made his favorite meal.

Randomly one day Belphie asked about how Beel felt about himself. “Like it doesn’t matter if you pass in someone else’s eyes or not, but do you like how you look?”

That’s when Beelz really got into bodybuilding and weightlifting

While he didn’t necessarily come out to the rest of the brothers, but none of them came out as cis so he wasn’t going to go out of his way and come out as trans

“working your legs naturally helps build more testosterone, so does eating eggs,” it was Satan that told him shyly behind a book if Beelz noticed that Satan was eating more eggs and even doing leg exercising he said nothing

Satan and Beel would have random conversations about gender and identity. Most times Belphie sat in on it. Asking questions or making comments.

Before he got top surgery, he would wear full-body binders, he had a standard black and white, but he also had an orange one. Completely confident to wear them by themselves.

After top surgery, he showed off (as he should)

Takes pride in his body and the work and effort he put into it. To make it his own.

· T shots doesn’t help with his appetite at all, the horror that went through the house when the avatar of gluttony appetite almost doubled. After a few weeks, it averaged out to be just a little more than pre-T but the brothers none the less both impressed and mortified

Belphie immediately opened his closet to Beel, like Beel occasionally stole clothes before, but this time Belphie made sure that Beel knew whatever he wanted he could take.

Asmo was definitely down to help Beel with shopping, but he turned him down. Favoring to go with Belphie

Faced little backlash, only some sports watchers had problems with it but were quickly shut down. Though even after all these centuries some people still have problems. But Beel has learned to keep his head high but knows he is allowed to be upset and hurt by their words. But he also knows he can go to any of his brothers for comfort and to regroup.

Beelz doesn’t get the same attention and attraction that Satan does, but he doesn’t mind. Though when he sees younger lgbtqia+ looking in awe at him at the gym, he usually swings by to see if they have any questions or need tips.

Okay, wait hear me out… Definitely created a club specifically for lgbtqia+ to have the gym and exercise together. Whether it was leading a class, he has gotten Asmo to lead a few yoga/ meditations or letting them break out into groups and giving them tips on stance or what exercises could build muscles to help them pass. But most importantly teaches/reminds everyone that their body is their own. That no matter what happened to them, their body is theirs. It can look however they want and even if it doesn’t look perfect, it is still is worthy of love and self-care. “The only opinions that matter is your own, it is your body. Claim and make it your own. No one can take it away from you”

Satan offered to let him borrow Parrotfish, Beel isn’t too interested but Belphie wanted to read it to him.

Overall Beel is confident and comfortable with his body and his identity. On his bad days, he knows he has endless support from Belphie and his other brothers.

Satan:

You know that feeling when something clicks and its that chilling calm that covers your body? Satan was reading a random book, Parrotfish by Ellen Wittlinger.

First came out to Asmodeus, because Satan knew Asmo would accept him and help him in whatever way Asmo could.

And of course, Satan was nervous because Asmo couldn’t go to the others not yet. Satan planned it out that Lucifer was on Earth and expected to be there for a week, so Satan had time to execute his plan.

Asmo was worried when Satan came to him all serious. Well, Satan is always serious but this time the nervousness and lack of confidence made Asmodeus sit still and hold his breath. Asmodeus was attentive as Satan slowly stumbled through his prepared speech, which mainly focused on talking about the book he had just finished.

Asmo didn’t understand until he saw how heartbroken and lost Satan looked. He was frantic in a sense and blurted out something along the lines of, “So, you wish you were a parrotfish?” while it wasn’t necessarily the best thing to say, the laugh it go out of Satan and the uncertainty in his smile was worth it.

Asmodeus took it upon himself to go shopping for Satan, getting him new more masculine clothes.

It was Levi that got Satan’s his first Binder, “A lot of cosplayers wear them, so you should be okay for some light exercising in it”

Soon all the brothers, well except Lucifer knew and the day Lucifer came back, Satan hid and avoided him.

Satan should have known better, but he was still surprised when Lucifer summoned for him

He was terrified.

When he entered the room, he couldn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes. But when he spared the glance, he saw the disappointment in Lucifer’s eye. Satan tried to swallow around the lump in his throat and ignore the burning in his eyes.

“What are you wearing?” Not exactly what Satan thought Lucifer was going to say first. “Was it Asmodeus?” “Ugh” Lucifer shook his head and strolled to his closet and threw the door open and went searching for something. “Ah, there it is,” Lucifer returned with a yellow sweater. “This would be more suiting for you,” Lucifer offered the sweater to Satan.

“You aren’t mad?”

“The only thing I’m relatively mad at is how offensive that outfit is,”

“I might have shoes too, but they might be a little big on you,”

Satan left wearing his new sweater and shoes on, laughing how he had to keep a black undershirt on, and the shoes flopped due to being too big. But he left with a lot of weight off his shoulders and high in spirits.

That sweater is the famous one you still see him wear today. He wonders why Lucifer would have such a bright color and when he asked Lucifer just made a face and rolled his eyes as he replied with “Asmodeus thought I needed to brighten my wardrobe.”

Satan loves it, its soft and bright. It’s a little too low cut for his liking but an undershirt fixed that problem. And it doesn’t hug his chest and honestly, it’s his favorite piece of clothing

Parrotfish is a permanent book in his room and he reads it once a year. And has special scenes marked, so he can go back and read certain passages when needed

Once Satan came out to Barbatos and Diavolo they both requested to read the book and met with him for tea to talk about the book and life.

Lucifer even snagged the book for a bit. (He tried to be sneaky about it and Satan pretended not to notice)

Asmodeus and Mammon is chaotic with their support, it nice and needed but can also be overboard but he knows they do it out of love. Pride is a huge thing at the house and Asmo decided to do a gender reveal party for Satan

Beelzebub, Belphegor and Levi are supportive like they are ready to fight anyone who gives Satan any issues about his gender and gender identity, but they are as obnoxious as Asmo and Mammon. They will sit with him, talk to him, or just quietly listen. Most times they can’t offer help and admit they don’t know what to say other then they are here for him and willing to listen to whatever he needs to talk about.

Lucifer is quiet support. At first, Satan thought he didn’t approve but then Lucifer would make a random statement or ask for clarification that made Satan feel comfortable. Lucifer glared at anyone who even thought about giving Satan a weird look.

Satan’s go to binder color is a light grey and most times it just a crop top rather than a full-body one. Though he has an aqua blue one he wears occasionally. (I have a drawing of this somewhere lmao)

Satan tried to give himself his first haircut but Asmo had to come in and fix up the mess and disaster he created. Sure, his hair was way too short for his liking, but it wasn’t long anymore.

Over the years has learned the different meanings behind the looks he gets, whether it’s in disgust or that longing look that demons that aren’t out give him. He somehow occasionally becomes a dad to other trans! Demons. Whether it's long talks or if it's just quick tips that help him through the years.

Ironically enough, Lucifer is his biggest support or the one he relies on the most during days or moments when Satan feels terrible. Because Lucifer won’t be fussing all over him or beat around the bush about it. Sometimes he will state he too busy to talk but will leave and come back with hot tea and Satan’s favorite biscuits. Lucifer sometimes sends him away to grab his homework and they will just work in silence together. While Satan hates to admit how much he appreciates Lucifer for these moments, it helps a lot.

Last one! The first formal after Satan came out, he realized he didn’t have clothes for it. Out of all the styles and outfits he had gotten nothing formal ever came through. His brothers came through though. Asmo couldn’t convince him on any of his extra formal wear so he went around finding pieces that the other brothers weren’t using. Satan was only missing a jacket, but the outfit looked perfect. When he ran into Lucifer, Lucifer brought him to his room and offered him one of his simpler jackets and touch him how to pin it to tailor the sleeves to a better height.

#trans satan #trans beel #trans beelzbub #obey me #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #yuki writes #Yuki Writes!#hiding this in tags but I thought about Autistic Satan and Autistic Levi

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dreamscapefics · 4 years ago

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HEY OMG, i have a prompt,, normal witcher universe except people have animal traits/features so Jaskier is a catboy...black kitty ears and a fluffy tail while Geralt has wolf ears and a tail,,it mostly goes all okay, Geralt even starts accepting and making J a member of Pack, then J ends up going into Heat (magic? Was it just his time? Who knows) and since G has already made J pack, it makes sense that he would help fill his kitty up (go Absolutely insane with whatever kinks u wanna give em ❤️)

I finally managed to finish the last one-fourth of this fic. Thank you so much for sending this prompt, I had a lot of fun writing it, despite the writer’s block haha. I hope you, and everyone who sees this, like reading this.

Brief explanation: I made a few tweaks about the Alpha/Omega aspect. In this ‘verse, Omegas are intersex. When they present, their organs and anatomy shift accordingly. That said, they’re unable to get pregnant unless they go into Heat, and they only go into Heat when they meet a viable mate. Even after they meet their mate, it can still take a long time before a Heat is triggered. They can still have sex, of course, but they just can’t get pregnant when they’re not in heat.

Tags: animal features on human body (partial animal transformation? Idk the right term), Alpha/Omega, breeding, knotting, cunnilingus

~*~

It’s believed that wolves and cats don’t really get along. They can co-exist and interact, yes, but only when it’s absolutely necessary. For the most part they choose not to because it’s not in their nature as a species. Alpha wolves and cats have a tendency to be aggressive towards one another, whereas Betas and Omegas are more manageable.

But an Alpha wolf and Omega cat? That’s an association that’s rarely, if never, heard of.

So when Geralt, an Alpha wolf, met Jaskier, an Omega cat, in Posada all those years ago, he never expected for the feline bard to stick to him, much else befriended him. Jaskier, with his black kitty ears on top of his tousled chestnut hair, almost always has his black fluffy tail held high, alerting Geralt that the young man enjoys being in the wolf’s presence. And Geralt, internally exasperated at his own biological urges, is unable to stop his own fluffy white tail from wagging back and forth, a clear indication that he’s just as happy to have the bard around.

Of course, the beginning of their companionship (friendship?) was filled with arguments and disagreements. It still is to this day, but it was a lot worse then. They’re both territorial creatures, and Jaskier had a tendency to rub his scent all over Geralt’s things, which the wolf witcher didn’t appreciate at first. Then there was the issue of taking on contracts, which Geralt has gotten used to doing on his own. So having Jaskier tag along, prancing about the place while strumming his lute, his black tail poised high as he talks Geralt’s ear off about the monster they’re hunting and the inspiration Jaskier will gain from witnessing the impending fight. It took several months before Geralt got used to having another creature around, his enhanced senses extending to look after his feline friend for any sign of trouble.

Years passed and they slowly grew more comfortable around each other. Geralt still gets pissed and growls at Jaskier whenever he smells the bard’s scent on his things, in which Jaskier would answer with a twitch of his tail. The first time he wrapped his tail around Geralt, it happened a few years into their friendship. They passed by a village who was vitriolic towards Geralt’s kind, spitting vile comments about him. So when he felt a brush of Jaskier’s fluffy tail around his waist, Geralt blinked at the unfamiliar gesture but remained calm. It’s only when they left the village that he allowed his own tail to lightly brush against Jaskier’s rear, who turned to Geralt with a sunny smile, his kitty ears twitching happily.

From that moment, Geralt knew that Jaskier was going to be with him for the long haul. It’s then that he decided to officially welcome Jaskier to his Pack by inviting the feline to winter with him at Kaer Morhen that year.

Jaskier accepted, obviously, and while Geralt was excited, he was also nervous at the prospect of introducing Jaskier to his fellow wolf witchers, not knowing whether his brothers will get along with his feline friend. But his fears were unfounded when Eskel and Lambert reacted favorably to Jaskier and vice versa. Even Vesemir’s grey tail twitched in curiosity upon meeting Jaskier, and his small nod aimed at Geralt was one of approval which made the witcher nearly sag in relief, heedless of his white tail wagging.

Everything was great that winter. Jaskier sang for them almost every night and Geralt took him on a tour around the Keep, showing him his favorite places and voluntarily sharing stories to the eager bard about his time growing up there and what he and his brothers went through to become a witcher.

To say that Jaskier was moved to tears would be an understatement because that night, Jaskier crawled into Geralt’s bed. He curled his body around Geralt, his black fluffy tail wrapping almost possessively around him which made Geralt huff in amusement. But he also wrapped an arm around Jaskier, fingers running through his tousled hair and kitty ears while his own tail curled around the bard’s.

After that, Jaskier always went with Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter. They still go their separate ways for a few months or an entire season, but they make sure to always reunite by autumn, having agreed beforehand to meet at a city or town.

Even after ten years of traveling together, they still get a lot of stares. Some confused, some frightened, while others give them judgmental stares, eyes drifting from Geralt’s hulking form to Jaskier’s lithe body. Yes, it’s still unheard of for wolves and cats to be voluntarily traveling together, but an Alpha wolf and an Omega cat? Oh, the perverse shit Geralt has heard over the years from passersby.

“The bard is probably the monster’s sex slave.”

“How can a feline degrade themself to a fucking witcher?”

“Melitele, can you smell them? Their scents are basically entwined!”

“I bet the witcher’s knot is magical for the kitty bard to stay with him.”

Geralt doesn’t think the Jaskier ever heard those comments about them, because if he did then his friend would’ve likely gone feral on them - hissing barbed insults at them, body taut and tail puffed up.

Still, given their reputation as traveling companions, it’s a wonder they both managed to have sex at all. Geralt has the brothels while Jaskier has, well, anyone willing to bed a feline bard whose best friend is an Alpha wolf witcher. In the years they’ve known each other, Geralt has never seen Jaskier go into Heat; even the bard admitted that he hasn’t experienced it since he presented as an Omega.

“I guess I haven’t met my mate yet,” Jaskier says with a nonchalant shrug, but Geralt can smalle the sorrow and insecurity in the bard’s scent.

Geralt hums and brushes his tail against Jaskier, whose tail is slowly swishing back and forth. The feline looks at him with a sweet smile, and Geralt’s chest tightens at the sight.

He’s been having these peculiar feelings for Jaskier lately. Geralt can’t pinpoint when it began, but he knows he only became aware of it when they reunited a month ago in Oxenfurt. He’s not certain if it’s just a passing thing or something more permanent, but regardless Geralt doesn’t like to see one of his pack members sad. While a part of him is guilty for feeling happy that Jaskier hasn’t met his mate yet, a part of Geralt wishes he could be that person for Jaskier instead. He loves the bard, he’s Geralt’s best friend. He looks after him and cares for him and is there for him whenever Jaskier gets in trouble.

By the time they begin their trek up the Blue Mountains for Kaer Morhen, Geralt has pushed away all thoughts of him and Jaskier becoming more to the back of his mind. There’s no space for silly fantasies in the life of a witcher. The Path is all that matters, and Geralt can’t allow himself such distractions.

And for a while it worked. Barely, but it worked.

Until two years later when Jaskier went into heat in Kaer Morhen.

Geralt takes a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He hears a muffled, “Come in”, before he opens it and quickly gets in, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, I brought you some broth Vesemir prepared,” Geralt announces as he makes his way to the form slumped in the middle of the bed. Like all the other beds in the keep, it’s huge and can accommodate at least three grown witchers, the mattress wrapped in soft, thick furs. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my insides are being scraped by a rusty spoon,” Jaskier croaks out, his smile coming out more as a grimace. His cat ears are turned sideways, chestnut hair disheveled as a few locks of hair cling to his sweaty forehead and neck. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Geralt perches on the side of the bed, breathing carefully through his mouth so as not to inhale more of Jaskier’s tantalizing scent. He’s always smelled a bit like catnip, lavender, and cantaloupe. But now that he’s in the first stage of his heat, Geralt can detect something spicy sweet, as well as something musky that only heats generate. Overall, Geralt is already addicted to Jaskier’s heat scent, his cock hardening further in his loose breeches.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Geralt says as he places the tray on Jaskier’s lap. “But like Vesemir said, it would help if you told us who triggered your heat. There’s still time to track them down the mountains.”

Jaskier flushes, ducking his head to spoon soup into his mouth. Geralt cocks his head when he smells a hint of nervousness and embarrassment in his friend’s scent.

“You’re nervous,” he points out. “And embarrassed.” Geralt narrows his eyes. “What are you not telling me?”

“N-nothing!” Jaskier shakes his head, but even Geralt doesn’t need his witcher senses to detect the lie. “It’s nothing, Geralt. It was probably that foxy blacksmith I slept with at the town before last.”

Geralt growls low and continues to look at him, unimpressed.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says in a gruff voice. “Stop lying to me, Jask. Who is it?”

“It’s… I.” Jaskier shakes his head and spoons another mouthful of soup. Beside him, his black, fluffy tail twitches. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

Knowing he won’t get an answer if he prods further, Geralt decides to take a different approach. He clears his throat, his turn to be nervous as he psyches himself for what he’s about to ask. Offer. If this is the only time… Geralt internally shakes his head and clears his throat once more. Behind him, his tail twitches nervously.

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me who, then… I have a suggestion.” Geralt pauses, waiting until he has Jaskier’s full attention, the feline bard tilting his head slightly with a curious glint in his eye. Nodding, Geralt carries on. “If you are amenable, and since it’s your first heat after so long, I... hmm. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat pick up, the bard gulping audibly as he stares wide-eyed at Geralt.

“What are you, um, are you suggesting...” he falters, cheeks darkening.

Geralt slowly nods his head. “I’m offering to, um, help you. With your heat. If that’s okay with you.”

Jaskier is silent for several seconds, and Geralt is starting to become more nervous when --

“Geralt, I…” Jaskier swallows. Geralt can smell the honeyed scent of excitement as Jaskier’s kitty ears perk up, turning wide blue cat-eyes on Geralt’s golden. “You silly witcher, you’re the reason why I’m in heat. It’s you who triggered it.” At Geralt’s stunned silence, Jaskier lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Say something, you brute.”

“So you…” Want to share your heat with me? You’re my mate?

Jaskier, his smile breathtaking and blue eyes blown wide with arousal, nods his head.

“Yes.”

I want you with me.

Yes, we’re mates.

Something in Geralt unfurls and snaps. Surging forward, he takes Jaskier’s sweaty face into his hands and kisses him, careful to not knock the tray of hot soup over the bard, his mate. Jaskier lets out a punched out groan as he returns Geralt’s kiss, nipping and sucking as their tongues battle for dominance, quickly turning it into something filthy and scorching.

The next few minutes are a blur. Somehow, in their frenzied state, Geralt managed to set aside the food tray on the cold stone floor as he helped Jaskier get out of his damp clothes. It doesn’t take long for Geralt to shuck off his own garments, his mate pushing down the thick furs to the end of the bed as he turns over on his belly. Jaskier is on his knees and forearms by the time Geralt steps out of his smallclothes, and his arousal spikes when he catches a glimpse of his wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier arches his back, tail flicking in excitement and wiggling his ass at the witcher as he purrs, “That’s the plan, darling. Please, please come and fuck me. Want your knot so bad.”

“Fuck, Jask.”

Not needing to be told twice, Geralt gets back on the bed and positions himself behind his needy mate. Licking his lips, Geralt gently pushes the other man’s legs wider before taking his plump cheeks in both hands and spreading them apart. Geralt absentmindedly kisses the fluffy tail curling around his neck, but rather than stick his cock in, Geralt leans closer to Jaskier’s taint and inhales the tantalizing scent. His eyes nearly roll back into his head at the ripe smell of his mate, and without hesitation he buries his face in Jaskier’s cunt, tongue lapping at the sweet juices dripping from his hole.

Jaskier’s gasp of shock quickly turns into a breathless moan, his thighs quivering as Geralt takes the little nub between his lips and sucks.

“Ah, ah!” Jaskier gasps out, his head thrown back in pleasure. “Geralt, I - ah! Fuck!”

Geralt moans from where his tongue is buried inside Jaskier, chest rumbling as he breathes in the sweet, musky smell. He licks into Jaskier’s hot, wet channel before stiffening his tongue and fucking his mate. He uses the hands gripping the cheeks apart to push and pull his mate from his tongue, Jaskier thrusting back against Geralt’s face with expletives and moans that would give a whore a run for their money.

He spends several minutes worshipping Jaskier’s cunt, and he alternates between fucking his loose, wet hole and licking a stripe from his little nub to his tailbone. Jaskier’s fluffy tail twitches and Geralt can’t help but lay a sweet, small kiss at the base before diving back in to lick and taste more of his mate’s sweet juices. Jaskier cums with Geralt’s tongue plunging in and out of his hole, and the witcher laps it all up while Jaskier rides out his orgasm.

Giving one last kiss to the swollen nub, Geralt gets up on his knees once more and grips Jaskier’s hips as he finally guides his cock to his mate’s leaking entrance. He slowly sinks into the tight, wet heat, and loud groans of pleasure echo in the spacious room as Geralt bottoms out.

When he breathes out and inhales, Geralt is then made aware of a new smell. It’s a cloying scent, not overpowering but present, blending perfectly with the existing smells that Jaskier has already been producing. His heat has officially begun.

At the thought of his mate officially in heat, and it’s all thanks to him, Geralt growls low at the back of his throat as he pulls out before thrusting back in. Jaskier’s moans urge him to set a fast and brutal pace, and Geralt is unrelenting as he begins to ram his cock in his mate’s cunt. He has a tight grip on Jaskier’s hips, whose hands are gripping the sheets below as he lets out breathy ah, ah, ah’s as Geralt continues to fuck his brains out.

“So good, so fucking good,” Jaskier chants, eyes hazy with lust and pleasure as he attempts to meet Geralt’s thrusts. Their tails entwine lazily, black and snow white twisting around each other on Geralt’s flanks. “Fuck - ah! Geralt, fuck me harder.”

“Insatiable minx,” Geralt says roughly, but there’s a feral smile on his face. He adjusts his grip and position and does as he’s told. From the new angle he’s fucking Jaskier, and by the deep, throaty moans his mate is emitting, he knows he’s hitting that sweet spot.

Jaskier tuts. “More like an insatiable pussy for you, darling.”

Geralt snorts in amusement and elects not to say anything, except to fuck his insatiable bard harder until Jaskier’s hands are pressed against the headboard to avoid hitting his head. After some time, Geralt presses down against Jaskier’s back to bite and suck a ring of bruises across his shoulders and nape. He trails his hands up to pinch and tweak at Jaskier’s sensitive nipples, the bard howling and buckling against Geralt’s hard thrusts. Geralt lifts his head to nose at Jaskier’s hair and kitty ears, playfully nipping at one twitching ear before licking it.

Jaskier’s breath hitch at the gesture, and Geralt’s knot swells as he inwardly smirks before doing it again. He traces the shape of Jaskier’s feline ear with the tip of his tongue, and below him Jaskier’s breathing quickens, his moans rising an octave higher as Geralt nips it again before moving to the other ear and giving it the same treatment.

“G-Geralt, fuck,” Jaskier mewls. He removes one hand that’s pressed to the headboard to claw at Geralt, blunt nails digging into the meat of the witcher’s hip and ass.

“You like that, kitty?” Geralt purrs in his ear. “You like having a wolf cock in your kitty pussy?”

“Yes!”

“So fucking tight and wet for me, kitty. You feel so good, so perfect.”

“F-fuck, Geralt, please!”

“What is it you want, kitty?”

“Y-you! Your knot! Want my Alpha’s knot!” Jaskier sobs.

Geralt snarls. “And you’ll have my knot, Omega.”

Half a dozen thrusts later, Geralt brings two fingers to rub at Jaskier’s little nub. And with a final thrust, he pushes his knot inside Jaskier’s tight channel as his mate cums with a scream, body convulsing at the intensity of his second orgasm. Geralt can feel his knot swell, locking the two together as his cock pulses and shoots thick ropes of cum.

After, Geralt carefully arranges them so they’re lying on their sides, still connected as he shoots another load of cum inside Jaskier, his mate purring contentedly in his arms.

“That was incredible,” Jaskier slurs, pessing his sweaty back against the witcher’s front.

Geralt hums contentedly, eyes closed as he breathes in their mixed scents. He kisses the back of Jaskier’s neck and murmurs, “Rest, love.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier hums back. Then after a few seconds of blessed silence, “Then you’ll fuck me again, right? And knot me again?”

Geralt huffs out a laugh and tightens his grip around Jaskier, his hand resting possessively over his mate’s heart.

“I’ll knot you as many times as you want, kitty.”

Jaskier purrs. “Perfect. My Alpha.”

“My Omega,” Geralt rumbles, kissing one of Jaskier’s black kitty ears. “Sleep now, love.”

Jaskier hums and does just that, their tails curled almost protectively around each other as they both fall into a peaceful slumber.

~*~

A/N: If you think my writing’s a bit weird towards the end, yeah it’s been a while for me haha. Thanks for reading!

Also, I don’t think future filled out prompts will have this kind of length. It would depend, I guess, and never say never, right? But just wanted to give you guys a head’s up beforehand.

#dreamer fics #dreamer geraskier #cw knotting #cw breeding #cw animal transformation #partial animal transformation #idk the right term for this lol

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bloody-britt26 · 5 years ago

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Could I request Piers falling in love with a single mom reader? Maybe she can have a Drampa who's very protective of her and her son/daughter because it doesn't want them to be hurt by anyone. Drampa love children so I thought it was fitting! Thank you!! ❤

This was so cute and fun to write! I made this into a drabble because I got very inspired for this prompt, and I honestly could have kept going. You guys can let me know if you want more parts to this!

🎸 Piers falling in love with a single mother reader 🎸

“Elias, could you help me unload the cart onto the counter?” You asked your son.

“Okay mummy,” he replied in a sweet tone.

You both set your various food items onto the counter, letting the cashier scan each one of them. You bit your lip nervously as you looked at the price go up with each item. You had bought just enough to make it through the week, now you had to hope that you had made enough money to pay for your groceries.

“I’ll go put the cart back,” Elias said.

You nodded with a smile, he was such a sweet boy, always helping you to the best of his abilities whether you asked or not.

“That’ll be 32,000 Pokémon Dollars, please,” the cashier said.

You nodded, taking your wallet out and rummaging through it. As you counted your money, you felt panic flow through your mind as you noticed that you weren’t going to have enough.

Oh dear, you only had 27,000.

You set the money down on the counter, cringing as the cashier gave you a funny look.

“Ma'am, there’s 5,000 Pokémon Dollars missing,” the cashier said.

‘I know, damn it!’

You forced a nervous laugh. “Sorry, sorry. Let me just- maybe I have a card or coupon…”

Nothing of the sort was found in your wallet. You shook in embarrassment as you felt everyone’s judgmental eyes on you. You pocketed your wallet rather abruptly and opened up your bag.

“H-Hold on… maybe I’ve got something to sell,” you said.

You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find a star piece, a pearl, anything. Of course, you had no valuable items left, except for the golden chain around your neck.

Your heart broke at the thought of parting with it as it was a gift from your grandmother, but you were in a tight spot.

As you were about to unhook the chain from your neck, you felt a light tug at your shirt. Looking down, your son was looking at you with sad eyes.

“But mummy, that necklace is important to you,” he said.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Elias was having none of it. He shook his head in protest. “Don’t get rid of it. It’ll make you sad, and I don’t want to see you sad, mummy.”

“Elias…”

“We can put the cookies back. I don’t need them,” he said.

“But I promised you a treat,” you said in a sad tone.

“It’s okay. You’re more important than cookies,” he said as he hugged your arm.

You didn’t even know how to react. You really were blessed with the sweetest boy. He was so mature for his age, though it was probably your fault. The reality of being alone to take care of your home and child hit you hard, and you couldn’t spoil Elias like other parents could, even if you wanted to do so. You sincerely hoped that you weren’t ruining his childhood.

You felt tears well up as you heard other shoppers in line mutter words of disapproval at you.

“Hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

“What a wreck.”

“That child deserves better.”

“Why did she have a kid if she can’t take care of him properly?”

A hand that was gently put atop your shoulder snapped you out of your sorrow. Looking behind you, was a tall and lanky man, seemingly around your age. He was extremely pale, visible bags underneath his green eyes. He had a punk look, from his outfit to his black and white hairstyle. He seemed to be hunched over slightly. He looked like a wreck, but rather attractive if you were being completely honest. You felt like you had seen him somewhere before. On TV, perhaps?

You shook your head, ready to apologize for taking up so much time, but he quickly shushed.

“You ain’t gon’ need to sell your necklace, or put anythin’ back on the shelves,” he said.

He reached into his jacket’s pocket, taking out 5,000 Pokémon Dollars, putting the money atop the counter.

You blinked, not used to being helped by complete strangers. Still, you felt dirty by taking this man’s money.

“I can’t… I can’t accept this,” you said.

He waved you off. “It’s all good, just take it.”

“I- thank you, sir,” you said as the cashier took the money and bagged your items.

Your son looked up at the man, a small twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you very much, mister.”

A very small, barely noticeable smile found its way onto the man’s face. “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

As the man paid for his very few items, your son picked up one of the grocery bags, while you grabbed the remaining two.

As you were about to walk out, one of the bags was taken out of your arms. It was the same man.

“Here, lemme help with that,” he said.

“No, you’ve done enough. You don’t have to waste your time with me,” you protested.

He ignored your comment. “You’re visibly exhausted.”

Your son chimed in. “She works really, really hard.”

“See? Even your son agrees. Lemme walk you home,” he said.

You bit your lip, truly not used to receiving such kindness from anyone. It felt nice to have someone showing concern over rolling their eyes at your sorry situation.

“I don’t live that far, I’ll be-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut you off. “Oh, right. I ain’t got no manners… name’s Piers.”

“Piers… I’m (name), and this is my son, Elias,” you said, relaxing a little as you started to feel more comfortable.

Then, as if everything clicked in your head, you turned to Piers with a questioning look on your face.

“Wait… you wouldn’t happen to be the Spikemuth gym leader and rockstar, right?” You asked.

Piers had a little smirk on his face. “Yeah, that’d be me, but I ain’t the gym leader no more. My lil’ sis is runnin’ it for me now. I’m a full-time musician now.”

Elias looked at Piers with absolute wonder. “So cool…”

“Oh… I am so out of the loop. Really though, you probably have better things to do than walk me home,” you said, embarrassment lacing your voice.

You suddenly felt self-conscious that a celebrity had helped you pay for your groceries.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m tellin’ you,” he said. “I don’t wanna be nosy or anythin’, but you’re alone, yeah? No boyfriend or husband?”

You nodded, a little embarrassed. You supposed that it was very obvious that you were a single mother.

“You kinda remind me of myself,” he said.

You raised a brow. “How so?”

“Used to be in a similar situation when I was younger, parents were absent an’ I was raisin’ my lil’ sister by myself. Was tough, I remember, an’ nobody ever thought of givin’ a hand to the gutter punk lookin’ guy. Guess I just wanna, I dunno, help out a young woman who’s tryin’ her best, you know?” He explained.

“I- thank you, Piers,” you said with a small blush.

It was nice to talk to someone who could understand you. Most people pointed at you, laughed or disapproved of you. They’d never been in your situation, so they didn’t know just how difficult it could be at times.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said as you came up to your very small house.

You chuckled nervously, that self-conscious feeling resurfacing as you acknowledged the difference between your social status and his. “It’s… I know it’s not very impressive.”

Piers shook his head with a chuckle. “Nah, it looks cozy. You’d be surprised how messy and unimpressive my home is.”

You raised a brow. “Really now?”

“Yeah… Spikemuth really ain��t that impressive, but I love the town anyways.”

“Well, that’s what’s important, huh? Oh, you can drop the bag at my front door, I’ll take it indoors. You too, Elias,” you said as you put your own bag down.

Elias and Piers nodded and did the same. Right afterwards, a friendly growl echoed from your front yard. It was your beloved Drampa, poking his head over the fence.

“Drampy!” Elias exclaimed, running up to the dog-like dragon.

Drampa cooed at your son, nuzzling him affectionately as Elias scratched his nose.

Piers blinked, not expecting you to have a large dragon in your yard. “Is that your Drampa?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah, that’s my big boy. He’s my only pokémon, but he’s been with me since I was a child.”

Your son turned to you. “Mummy, can I play with Drampy after I finish my homework?” He asked.

“Of course, sweetheart!” You said, handing your son the key to your home.

Elias smiled and thanked you. As he unlocked the door, he also grabbed a grocery bag to bring it inside.

When Elias was inside, Piers nodded in approval. “Sweet kid. You’ve been raisin’ him well.”

“Thank you, it means a lot,” you said, genuinely happy at the compliment.

You approached your Drampa, who was wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you. As soon as you were near, he gave you sloppy kisses and nuzzled you as if his life depended on it.

“Drampa!” You said with a giggle.

Piers approached you and Drampa as well, but as soon he did, Drampa’s mood immediately turned sour. Your dragon used his head to push you back, growling at Piers.

Piers chuckled nervously at Drampa’s intimidating change in behaviour. You, on the other hand, were shushing and rubbing Drampa soothingly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. This is Piers… he helped me, he’s nice,” you said.

Drampa glanced at you, a worried look flashing through his eyes. His growling had diminished, but he kept a firm glare on Piers.

“Sorry, Piers. He’s always been very protective of me, but that doubled ever since my ex left me when I got pregnant. He saw me at my worst, and he doesn’t want anyone to hurt me again,” you explained.

Piers had a small smile as he waved you off. “Don’t worry, I get it.” He turned to Drampa. “Protectin’ your loved ones like that, I get you. It’s honourable, you’re a good pokémon.”

Drampa huffed, blowing a bit of his breath in Piers’ direction, making him stumble back a little.

“Woah. I heard Drampa’s breaths were strong… guess they weren’t kiddin’,” he muttered.

You laughed as Drampa had a little smirk on his face. “He’s tough. We used to battle together a lot a few years back. I don’t have much time for that anymore, unfortunately.”

“You’d make a good trainer, I’m sure,” he said.

You felt your cheeks burn slightly. Piers was just handing you so many compliments, and he sounded absolutely genuine with every single one of them.

He cleared his throat, a barely noticeable blush making its way onto his cheeks as he reached into his pockets, pulling out what seemed to be two tickets.

“Here. I’ve got a show this weekend in Spikemuth, an’ I’d like to see you an’ your son there…” he paused, scratching the back of his head nervously, “…it might also be an excuse to get to see you so I can get to know you better, ‘cause you’re cute an’ sweet an’ all.”

You couldn’t help the dorky laugh that escaped you as you gratefully accepted the tickets.

“I’d like that. Thank you for everything, Piers,” you said.

He smiled, blush getting deeper as he shrugged. “It’s no prob. I’ll see you there?”

You nodded with a smile as you waved goodbye to him before he headed in the opposite direction of your home.

Your Drampa gave you a questioning look, as if he was saying, “Are you really considering this?” To which you nodded, giving a reassuring pat to the concerned dragon.

Maybe, you finally had a shot at a better life, after all of the hardships that had been thrown at you.

#pokemon imagines #pokemon headcanons #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon piers x reader #pokemon piers #female reader #reader insert #piers x reader #fluff #fanfic #writing

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joonclouds · 4 years ago

Text

The Price Of A Wish | 1

The third time you meet Jung Hoseok, you realise the last ten years has done nothing to the way you were drawn to him, with a force as sure and inescapable as gravity.

CHAPTER INDEX

Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Idol!Hoseok, Chaebol!Reader, OT7 bangtan show up too, Slow Burn, Unrequited feelings, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Fluff, (we might include some other things later let’s see)

Warnings: None, but emphasis on the Slow in slow burn.

____________

The official opening night of your art conservatory marks your first independent venture from your family’s Aurarts Corporation. The press and public fawn over you, commending your initiative to increase representation opportunities for budding artists. You wanted this place to celebrate all types of art.

The opening ribbon is cut, champagne, popped. Compliments were given on the new space - one with high ceilings, a fully functional theatre, practice rooms. Crafting studios with expansive skylights and clean white walls wait to house artists and their masterpieces. Mirrors have been strategically placed to make the main hall and foyer look even bigger than it is.

The silver gown and warm smile you wear belies the eighty-hour work week you’ve had leading up to today and the way your feet scream in protest at the new satin Manolos that haven’t yet been seasoned by wear. Maybe you eat more than your fair share of tiny canapes, but you are the perfect hostess - you laugh, shake hands, exchange jokes - always sincere, never past the point of oversharing.

So yes, it’s an important night. It has to be perfect. But that isn’t why you’re nervous.

You feel a warm hand on your elbow and you’re pulled into a gentle hug. It startles you, but once you catch an eyeful of colourful prints that smell like a woody bergamot, you relax.

“Hey, ____.”

“Tae! I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Who will save you from all this social interaction otherwise?”

Mirroring Taehyung’s smile, you return his embrace. Though it’s not till you’re pulling away that you realise what’s different about him tonight.

“Your hair!” Your fingers come up to touch the strands at the nape of his neck which, previously bright blue, are now an ashy silver.

Taehyung grins. “You like? I did it to match your dress.”

The gray hair makes his skin glow.

“I love. It suits you.”

You give him an approving once over. Taehyung’s style is eclectic, to say the least. His hair colour changed depending on his mood, sometimes blue, sometimes pink. A few weeks ago, it was a fire-engine red. On most days, he chooses to dress in a mish-mash of designer jackets, some of which he’d taken a can of spray paint to, baggy cut clothing and odd sandals (rarely covered shoes). But that had never taken away from the fact that he was incredibly good looking - maybe even added to it, if that were possible.

Tonight he’s dashing, in a loose silk shirt with wild paisely patterns tucked into dress pants, and a smattering of silver and gold on his fingers and in his ears.

“Who knew Kim Taehyung actually owns proper shoes?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tilts his heel with a cheeky smile, showing you that he’s not actually wearing proper shoes, or even socks for that matter - just loafers that look like actual shoes in that they had no backing to cover the heel.

“Did you seriously wear bedroom slippers to my grand opening?”

Taehyung laughs and eyes your Manolos skeptically.

“They’re my best pair of Gucci loafers. If I’m going to have to endure all this small talk I’m going to do it comfortably.”

You groan quietly, shifting your weight to your other foot. “Don’t remind me. We’re not even a third through the night.”

Taehyung nabs two glasses of wine from a passing server and you accept one gratefully.

“Ugh - “ he pauses to take a big sip as he scans the crowd. “Remind me again why you invited half of the country to the opening?”

“Marketing says it’s good publicity, ecetera ecetera.” You take a substantial mouthful of wine yourself.

“That’s good publicity?” Taehyung tips his glass to point over your shoulder and you turn in its direction.

The both of you cringe visibly.

“Uh. She’s got a million followers on Instagram?”

He makes a small retching noise in the back of his throat. “She’s taking a duck face selfie in front of the - hey!”

Taehyung quickly gets the attention of a server and shoves him in selfie girl’s direction. “Tell her no flash photography, it’s a real Matisse, for fuck’s sakes.”

While Taehyung’s flagging down another server to refill his wineglass and muttering something about how can’t anyone have a shred of respectable gallery etiquette, you’re spacing out a bit.

The soft, unassuming lull of the string quartet sits underneath the rustling of expensive gowns and clinking of glasses. Anyone and everyone who was someone in the entertainment industry was extended an invitation. That tiny ball of anxiety still sits in the base of your gut. It’s like waiting in line, and it’s almost your turn - for what you’re not sure - but not quite yet. Your fingers pick at the thin seam of your dress.

“____.” It vaguely registers that this isn’t the first time Taehyung’s called your name.

You clear your throat quickly. “Sorry. I’m a little tired today. What was it?”

“When was the last time you ate? You better not say yesterday.”

“Don’t look at me like that. I ate.” Technically, not a lie. Stealing the canapes was considered eating.

Taehyung frowns, but he’s sufficiently appeased. “ As I was saying, I saw you chatting with President Kwon earlier. What’d you think of him?”

“I think - ” You suck in a breath through your teeth, taking a moment to find the right words. “He’s competent. Knows the ins and outs of the arts and entertainment businesses. He might be useful so let’s not rule him out yet.”

“Rule him out yet? He’s a big fish though.”

Your expression changes slightly - it’s still a smile, but Taehyung has known you long enough to be able to tell. Its what he likes to call your Politely Disgusted face.

“Like I said. Yet.” You emphasize. “While we were talking, I watched him hand his empty wineglass off to his wife instead of the wait staff. He’s definintely not being friendly to me because it’s his personality.”

He nods in understanding. You were quick on picking up little things like that - you had quite the talent for reading people. “He wants something from you.”

“Bingo. And when we find out what he wants, then we can really - “

A small change in the atmosphere makes you pause. Something’s different.

“_____?”

“Hold on. I’ll be back in a minute, I think someone’s here.” You murmur.

There’s a small hush about the air. It’s less conversation, heavier, quieter with a certain entrancing quality. Whatever it is makes you turn your head and take a few steps towards the main foyer, leaving Taehyung behind in a bit of a confused daze.

Without seeing, you know.

Of course he’s received an invite. But he’s a little late, having missed the opening ceremony. Systematically, you weave through the guests with murmured apologies, that tangle of anxiety bubbling over into something more - trepidation, anticipation, excitement… you can’t tell anymore.

You’re halfway to the main doors when you see him before he sees you.

He’s in a black suit - Dior, by the looks of the nondescript label on the jacket cuff. The bowtie has been forgone in favour of a matching silk neck scarf and the top two buttons of his white shirt have been left undone. His hair is styled such that errant pieces fall boyishly into his eyes as he nods politely to greet the attending press and guests.

Perchance, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in one of the mirrors - cheeks pink with a little flush, eyes wide and shining. It’s unlike you. There’s a tiny curl that’s escaped your bun, but you don’t reach up to smooth it back as you usually would. It looks quite charming, you think.

It can be quite a peculiar experience, to see someone after a long time.

The years make little changes to their appearance, the way they walk, talk, hold themselves, leaving only just enough familiarity for recognition. It’s like a weird sense of jamais vu, recalibrating your memory as you align the two faces - the one you knew, and the one that is.

One thing you know for sure. His face has always been smooth lines and pretty angles. Time has certainly taken those lines and angles, made them smoother, prettier. Made them breathtaking.

He spots you in the crowd threading through it to come stand in front of you. You’re taller now, and in your heels, you don’t have to look up much to meet his gaze. The mirth in his eyes is a little dimmer now, but it’s there and still the same.

“Hi, ____. It’s been a while.” He extends a hand with a smile and you vaguely register the sound of cameras clicking and flashes of light.

It’s not till he glances down almost imperceptibly that you realise your reaction has been left wanting for a second too long. Quickly sliding your hand into his, you smile and perform your part as best you can for the watching eyes that follow.

“Hi,” you breathe. He grips your hand firmly, warmly. “It’s good to see you.”

That short, polite moment is all you get before he’s swept away in the flow of greeting the other guests and influencers who clamber for a photo, but it leaves you with peculiar feeling. Like you’ve missed a step on the stairs and you’re paralysed in a hanging moment of falling and flying at the same time.

The third time you meet Jung Hoseok, you realise the last ten years has done nothing to the way you were drawn to him, with a force as sure and inescapable as gravity.

__________________

References: 190106 Hoseok For your enjoyment

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#joonclouds #POAW #hoseok #jung hoseok #hobi #hoseok fic #bts fic #hoseok fanfic

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straight-into-the-animus · 4 years ago

Text

From the Children

( @mightybluephoenix i’m so sorry this took so long love i just didn’t know how to do shay :( I hope this is enough to make up for it and I captured his essence!)

Read on Ao3!

Things were different, Shay realized as he stepped into the Colonial Kenway manor. Not very much so; nothing was askew, or torn apart, no entry was forced in a way to cause suspicion. But in his lifetime -- two lifetimes, it seemed -- of training, he could sense a foul mood permeating the air.

He had only meant to step in and report on his success with locating the precursor artifacts with the Grandmaster, but this took precedence as he began to slowly search his surroundings. He found one of the maids hard at work, dusting what seemed to already be a fully polished desk, and she only jumped a bit as he came up behind her.

“Ah, Master Cormac, forgive me.”

“It’s quite alright. Mary Anne... Is the Grandmaster in?”

“He’s currently in a meeting with some important folk. I didn’t ask. You’re welcome to wait for him if you like, sir.”

“I will, thank you. But... What’s happened in my absence? I was only gone a month and it’s as if we’ve already entered mourning.”

At his question, she hesitated. The old lady finally took a breath and haltingly explained. “The master... brought back someone.”

“Someone?”

Her eyes darted away to something behind him and he turned to notice the closet door ajar just a bit. It wasn’t very big, only an odd closet meant to store boots and muddy clothes. It almost filled him with unease until he looked back at her and gave a slight bow.

“Thank you.”

She nodded and curtsied back before taking her leave, seemingly not wanting to be in the room anymore with whatever waited. He didn’t blame her, but he was curious enough to decide to take another look as he crept closer. Was it an Assassin caught on a mission? An informant? Someone from his old life? His hand rested on the knob and he took a minute before opening it quickly.

“Leave me alone.” Was what greeted him, the voice coming from seemingly nowhere until he looked downwards at the floor. There, huddled up with crossed arms, was a young boy. His dark brown eyes were fixed in a glare at his apparent intruder, with anger and pain Shay hadn’t seen on a child that young -- was he four? Five? -- in his life. He was actually brought into shock for a second until the boy spoke again. “What do you want?”

“Forgive me.” Shay found himself actually apologizing to the fiery boy, and got over his shock enough to crouch down and get eye-level with the child. “I... Wasn’t expecting to make your acquaintance.”

“I did not want to make yours.”

The more he inspected him, he realized a few things. One, the boy was a Native, clear in his face and the deerskin clothes he wore. Two, he spoke English almost fluently, even if the words seemed to not fit in his mouth correctly. And three, in his brow and eyes and nose and the set of his jaw... He looked just like the Grandmaster. He had been aware of his dealings in the Colonies before Shay had been recruited, and even after. But he had never mentioned anything about fathering a child.

“Your father... is he Haytham?”

Another dark look overtook the boy’s eyes and he looked down. “He found me and took me here.”

“What of your mother?”

Silence. Shay realized with a pang of his heart, the heart he thought had died a while ago, that he had been a victim of humanity as much as those in Lisbon. He might have been displaced by infighting, or some other outside forces. But he felt for him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.”

“My name is Shay Cormac.”

Again, a breath of silence, and then, “Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

He seemed unwilling to say much more, and Shay decided to leave him to it. “I’ll see you eventually.” He remarked, earning a barely-there nod from the boy before standing and closing the closet door, leaving it ajar.

-----

“Your son seems… interesting.”

“You met him, then.” Haytham didn’t even look up from where he hunched over the table with his maps of the Colonies and the Caribbean. Various markers of different troops and factions dotted it, a map of progress. The Assassins were virtually extinct, Shay noticed with a grim satisfaction. Achilles would be hobbled, both physically and in terms of manpower.

“Just for a minute. He was renting the room in your mud closet.”

“He’s been there for the past week. Barely says a word, or pretends he can’t speak. I leave food out for him, but all attempts to bring him into the fold are generally rejected. Attempting to teach him anything yet would be disastrous.”

“Yes, I can guess that,” Shay remarked, unsure where to go from there. No doubt the boy was to be the intended Grand Master of the Colonial Rite when Haytham ate dirt. Shay might even be dead by the time that happened. Still… to talk to him might do good. Bring him over a bit gently to the right side. “May I stay a few days before setting out? I only have a half-baked lead for now. Perhaps I can… talk to the lad. He has questions, perhaps I can answer.”

Haytham finally looked over at him and judged Shay, scrutinized him in a way that made the Irishman feel as though he was being picked apart bone by bone. He must have passed the silent test since Haytham nodded his approval.

“Fine. I don’t know how much luck you’ll have. Yes, yes, Shay. You make your own.”

A bit of embarrassed heat overtook Shay’s face until the Grandmaster allowed him to leave.

-----

“You are still here.”

“And I thought you would be sent to bed, lad.”

“I want to stay up. I can not sleep here. It is… too quiet.”

“I think I understand.”

-----

He didn’t so much as make an acquaintance with the boy, rather the boy would pester him as a child was wont to do and Shay would indulge him. There were times when his visits, which were still infrequent, were actually welcomed. Ratonhnhaké:ton was still wary at best, but gradually every time he came by something about him had changed. Not evenso often in physical ways, such as height, but in mannerisms and personality. He had a black and white way of viewing the world, deeming who was right and wrong simply from meeting them.

Shay knew it was good he had been viewed favorably since he saw what had happened when Ratonhnhaké:ton met the others; when Charles Lee came to deliver an update on shipments flowing in and out, the child had run out the house; they found him later in a cart of leaves just outside the front door. Shay found him later that night, in his actual bed.

“Father says Charles Lee did not kill my mother.”

“I don’t think Charles would.”

“I do not believe it. He hurt me. He has hurt others before. I know it.”

What else could Shay have done but sit nearby until Ratonhnhaké:ton fell asleep?

-----

“You’re going to need a European name if you’re to go out.”

“Not needed. My own name is fine.”

“The colonists won’t take too kindly to your real name, Ratonhnhaké:ton, I can promise you that.”

“You understand it.”

“I’ve also known you for three years.”

“Then do you ‘know’ my new name?”

A moment of consideration.

“Connor. It’s… a strong name. A good name.”

“Fine.”

-----

Connor was thirteen when the question came up.

“Is your boat big?”

Shay was expecting him to speak, having noticed him standing in the doorway for a while, but wasn’t expecting the question.

“It’s a ship, Connor, not a boat. There’s a difference.”

“Fine then. Is your ‘ship’ big?”

“The Morrigan is small and old-fashioned compared to most. But she’s loyal, and strong.”

Connor’s brow furrowed in confusion, as it often did when he thought people weren’t making sense. “She?”

“You call your ships ‘She’.”

“But why?”

“I could ask the same on why you’re so obsessed about her.” Shay finished buckling on his swords as he turned to look at Connor. He glanced away for a second before straightening up and looking the Templar in the eye.

“I want to see it- Her. I have never been to the sea. Take me there.” Shay gave a little chuckle, and Connor had the right to look offended. “I’m not joking-”

“I know you’re not, Connor, don’t worry. I can see you have that determination. Which is good for a prospective sea captain. But I can’t exactly drag your happy arse to the sea for a few months.”

“My father said it was fine. Yes, really.”

If Haytham was actually sending Connor out, then he either very much trusted Shay with his only child -- which the hunter thought was the greatest moment of his Templar existence, in honesty -- or he very much had had enough of Connor’s attitude and needed him gone for some silence. But both were acceptable. It wasn’t like Connor was one to lie, either.

“If he did-”

“He did-”

“Then pack your sack and be ready for the walk to the harbor.”

A rare, but genuine smile overtook his face as he gave a quick nod and almost hurried away to get ready.

The trip wasn’t that long, they reached the harbor in less than half the hour where The Morrigan was docked. Even only having been away from her for less than a day, Shay felt a part of him start to come back to life at the thought of being at her wheel again, for any reason. The deal they had was that Connor was still to train with his sword as he had been with his father for a few hours every night, but he was to stay back if they encountered any dangers. Haytham might have trusted the Templar with his son, but there was no guarantee of anything positive should the boy come back harmed… Or not at all.

Connor stepped onto the deck hesitantly, getting a feel for the rock of the boat as Shay had seen so many other sailors do before, and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of pride start to overtake him at the thought of seeing him on the deck of a ship more often. Shay’s ship, all the better. He gestured for Connor to come up near the wheel and gave the order to set out; the water was calm and the wind fair in the late afternoon.

“What do you think, Connor?” Shay asked as they pulled out of the harbor and into the Atlantic. He held a nervous tension in his body from all the sights and sounds of the shouting crew, but it seemed to mellow out as they continued.

“It is wonderful. Father’s maps show most of the world is like this. However, I hadn’t pictured it to be so big.” He looked in front at the open water and back at the coast of the mainland. “I thought we would be closer to England than this.”

Shay felt a smile tug at his lips. “England is far away, much too far from here to take you. We’re going South to the Caribbean. It’s much shorter of a distance.” The boy nodded his understanding and continued to look out at the sea, a sort of faraway look in his eye. Shay left him to it and looked ahead to the ocean.

-----

He hadn’t expected the weather to shift the next morning; not too violent seas, but a drop in the temperature uncharacteristic of the late spring in this part of the world. He was used to it, the thick red and black robe warming him constantly, but one look at Connor showed that he hadn’t expected it. He had left his more familiar clothes back at the manor, instead donning one of the hated “colonizer robes” his father had had made for him. The cotton was fine, but he had nothing to guard his face or hands. Without much thinking, Shay took off his fine leather gloves and handed them over.

“Your hands are cold. Let me help.” He added on as Connor opened his mouth to likely refuse them. He watched with some satisfaction as the boy reluctantly took them and slipped them on. Perhaps it was because of this that he said something he never thought he would. “Want to try and captain?”

The other’s eyes widened a bit in muted surprise. “It would… be interesting.” He eventually agreed, and Shay realized he couldn’t back down after a reaction such as that. He moved aside, a hand still on one of the spokes of the wheel, and Connor took his place. His head was just enough above the wheel that he could see what was going on, and he dutifully placed his hands where instructed. Shay let go after some minutes of instruction and stood close by the young man’s side.

“Seems she’s all yours, Kenway.”

“She.” Connor nodded in agreement.

-----

The trip was fine going down South. Things became warmer after they passed Virginia, and after a day or so were in Havana. Of course, with things going well, Shay should’ve known that things wouldn’t be good forever, that tragedy was meant to follow wherever he went no matter how he might silently rage about it, how much he might want to curse any God listening. He thought he was over this, thought that nothing could get to him damn it damn it-

He walked into the cave with what turned to be a false lead and left it with a wound in his leg and a few dead bodies left behind. His search for the Precursor box was back at the start; with nothing to show for it. He didn’t know what had made his crew back away as he walked on the gangplank; perhaps it was the blood he has hastily tried to patch up. Perhaps it was the dark expression he knew he carried. Perhaps… Perhaps it was simply him. Like they knew what he had done.

Which, some of them knew him. But not most of them.

Connor was forced to stay behind, a fact which he greatly resented, making sure people knew that fact, and Shay knew he had left him in good hands. Now he looked… worried, almost. Alarmed. It wasn’t an emotion Connor seemed to feel often, or if he did, he hid it quite well. But now it was almost full force as Shay leaned on the front rail with a sigh of relief, weight taken off his leg at least a bit.

“You’re hurt.”

“Smart boy.” Shay somewhat groaned at the obvious statement, but Connor was unperturbed as he kneeled down to grab the man’s leg. “Connor-!”

“The wound might get infected-”

“Connor I swear-”

“A doctor said we need to look at it immediately if it does-”

“It’s just a scratch! Leave off!” Shay shouted, and Connor quickly stood up out of some sort of fright. Shay realized what he did and all annoyance and shame melted out of him. He had never shouted at Connor, never. Even on his worst days, he hadn’t thought to get angry with the one who was so silently eager to please, to help, no matter how much he might hide it or profess his hatred. It watered down and smothered the fire of his anger. He almost said sorry before realizing the words were tight in his throat, silence lingering.

Without saying anything, hoping the gesture would be obvious, he sat down near the wheel and hoped Connor would get the message. Relief passed through him as he mirrored the gesture, opting to rip the Templar’s pants on the back of his thigh to get a better look at the stab wound. The positioning was a little awkward, and shay silently swore to never find himself in this situation again, but he bit his tongue as Connor started to look at the wound and do what little basics of medicine he knew.

“Why did you not go to the doctor?”

“Hadn’t the money on me for it. Besides, most of them wouldn’t take too kindly to a man showing up with a wound on his leg and blood spattering his clothes.”

Connor gave a small nod and quickly hurried away to get some saltwater on a clean rag, hoping to use it to clean the wound. It burned, but Shay hardly jolted as they continued to patch it up. Connor was tying a piece of a bandana around the leg when he spoke again.

“What happened?”

“Some Assassins. They decided to try and ambush me after feeding me false information. Fought them off and won, but they left me a token to remember them by.”

“Are you all right?”

“You patched me up pretty fine, from what I can feel. Have to hurry to a more reputable place in the morning, but this should work for some time.”

“Are you all right?”

“Didn’t hear me the first time?” Shay tried not to shoot back too harshly as he rolled over with a concealed wince to look at the young man. He saw nothing but earnestness, and a hint of compassion, in his eyes, and through his whole body, and Shay realized what Connor really wanted to know. He sucked in a deep breath and decided he owed it from his outburst earlier to be more honest.

“Things shouldn’t affect me as much now as they used to.” He admitted, staring a place in the wood where a knot had been sawed off and left behind a twisted look. “In the new life I’ve chosen, Connor, I’ve left behind one that… I will never fully escape, no matter how much I might want to. Shadows will always follow me, and those shadows will always have daggers on their wrists and… I don’t regret my new world. But… It will always still be there.” Traitor, hunter, words spoken by those he used to consider his brothers and sisters, now aimed with viciousness by those who didn’t understand. “Forget it-”

He felt a slow onset of warmth and realized that he was wrapped in a loose hug… by Connor. Connor, as a rule, never let anyone touch him. A hand on the shoulder by an associate was likely to be shrugged off. A pat on the back, even born of pride, was to be met with a warning glare. In truth, Shay once again felt as though he was to say something, but it started to get stuck in his throat. The hug was over almost as soon as it began, and he couldn’t help but look to Connor in complete question. The teen didn’t look him in the eyes and quickly stood.

“You needed a hug.” He mumbled and stepped away, seemingly ready to move on as he left for the wheel. “Would you like to sail? Or should I?”

Shay considered everything, looked out at the horizon and the full moon, felt the breeze startup. He turned to an expectant Connor and finally stood.

“Just until we get out of port. I don’t want to stay in this country longer than need be.”

“Fair.”

Shay leaned against the posts to the side, watching Connor as he carefully but firmly instructed the surprised crew, who knew better than to say anything. He allowed himself to relax and keep the weight off his injured leg, and for the first time truly allowed someone to captain his ship.

Connor Kenway would be a fine Captain, someday.

Let me know what you think! This is a different style than I’m used to, but I think I like it. If you did like it, I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here! Safety and peace!

#connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #shay cormac #assassin's creed #assassin's creed rogue #my writings

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 39]

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

I only have a bit of stuff to finish up, so I’m not sure how long this will go.