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purplecoffee13 · 5 months ago

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NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

#harry styles #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #blurb #harry #one direction #one shot #smut #excerpt #harryedwardstyles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles

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hayleylwong · 2 years ago

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reflection 05-23

9:33pm - today i woke up at like 12:30. this was disappointing bc i was supposed to get up earlier to study for my chem midterm tm. instead i didnt study until like 4 bc i had to go sit outside and talk to people and then i went to class for like five minutes but i left to go study for chem bc i thought that was more important. i went to the schoenberg music practice rooms w my friend that can play piano to take a break from studying and omg the practice room hallway looks and sounds like a psychiatric ward like i swear all the instruments blended together and sounded like clown music and the hallway was long and the doors were all like scary w one little window in them. but i liked hearing my friend play piano. then i met my other friend at feast and ate dumplings and we got to talk i wish i could see her more often. then i went to study some more w my friend from before and we had to check like 15 lounges before we found an empty table. tn im gonna do pomodoro method so i am writing this during one of my breaks. i hope i can get through everything rn i feel like it is doable i bought yerba and celsius earlier so i am prepared for my all nighter. we will see how doable it feels as the night progresses. i am looking forward to 4:00pm tm when i can finally sleep after my midterm and hanging out w people for an hour 3 times in a row.

9:44pm - omg i called today the 21st accidentally. i just realized i cannot sleep at 4 bc of club work due at 5. ughhhh it is only the beginning of the night and i already want to sleep. i have overdone my pomodoro break by 11 minutes now. it is not a good sign.

12:10am - it was not a good sign. i have watched one and a half lectures and am two hours and twenty minutes into my current break. i went to the store and got more yerba mate but it is not working. i have seven lectures left and less than ten hours before my midterm. when am i going to shower. i now cannot sleep until 7pm tomorrow. my eczema is making me itch inside my body i am uncomfortable and everything is irritating me i cannot focus but i will. i will do it i have to otherwise idk what to do no i have to i really have to. only 19 more hours of misery.

3:54am - i have watched one hour of lecture in the last six hours. i am scared. there are other peoples review notes on the white board and i do not recognize some of the words. my friend said theyre important. no position is comfortable i am hella fidgety and my skin is freaking out. i want to shower but i do not have time. my friend is abt to go to sleep and leave me. who will keep me awake. i an beginning to do the thing i used to do where i blink weird and tense my head muscles bc i feel off. i am going to hug my boy. except i just saw his explore page and let me tell you i have never seen so many asian bikini thirst traps in my life. and i scrolled through his for you page and the same girl kept coming up. tell me why when i was scrolling through the explore he said ‘ooh a white one’ like three times. like actually wtf. have i told u guys his ex is white. my chem prof is rly grinding my gears rn. i hope i does not ever find my tumblr. i hope i can focus in the next six hours. oh no that is not enough time. no no no no no

5:16 - i actually cannot think. my head is numb. but the caffeine is finally working and i cannot sleep. i am so f ed. my head does not work. maybe i am just irritable rn. i hate everything. wtf is a nucleophile and how do u tell how strong it is. i just learned but i forget. i am going to cry.

5:26 - my friend is going to sleep soon. what am i gonna do. i was supposed to be done w lec by now and i have six left. i have four hours left before the exam. i have never been so disappointed in myself. i am sad. what am i going to do. i cant cry im too dehydrated and i dont have time for that. what is wrong w me

6:26 - how am i still on the same lecture as an hour ago. i am so miserable. was this quarter really worth it if im gonna fail this class? i wasnt even good at this quarter. but it is too late now bc if i dont go through w that i alr failed. i cant even hear anything shes saying anymore but i barely have time to watch even on 2x speed

6:50 - i am struggling. thinking abt doing anything makes me want to sob. i really really hope my club does not make us do stuff for an extra week bc i actually do not think i can. that week will be spent studying for finals. ik what to prioritize now. they should make that more clear. ughhh my brain is being attacked with words. it does not like it. i hate myself rn. i need to scream

jp updates: sam is feeling good today. he is curious whether or not he asks people for contact information weirdly and is working on changing his phrasing.

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kakashisdarling · 4 years ago

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Breaking point - Kakashi Hatake

Kakashi x reader (slightly angsty)

She leaned towards him and gently kissed him. Kakashi pressed his eyelids harshly, he couldnt’t help it but to long for someone else’s lips.

He messed up. Big time. He never felt so lonely and even though he had lost a lot of people, this time it felt different. His eyebrows pinned together as the memories flushed his senses.

“Kakashi, I want something steadier” the kunoichi mumbled softly.

Long had he feared that moment, silence covered the room. It was a rainy morning but his feelings were cloudier than the sky.

“We’ve been together for a while and I-I… I just want to hold your hand inside and outside these four walls, what I mean is-” Kakashi raised his hand, gesturing her to stop.

“I can’t. I never lied to you Y/n, I told you I wasn’t ready” he spitted bitterly as her kind eyes turned sorrowful.

“I’m sorry if I crossed the line, Kakashi” she paused for a moment, carefully choosing her words. “For the sake of my feelings, I think we should stop seeing each other” she spoke softly with a forced smile as she gathered her clothes from the mess on the floor.

He thought it was going to be fine. He thought there was no difference between spending his nights alone or with her. Kakashi wasn’t ready to reach a compromise, the shadows of his past still chased him. He could manage alone, he thought, he always had.

That was the last time he saw her in an intimate manner.

At the beginning it wasn’t so bad, Kakashi had his head all over the place with team 7 and Y/n was avoiding him at all costs. But as weeks and months went by, he couldn’t help it but to feel remorseful. He even started dreaming about her, not only did he long for her body but for the late night chats and the way she danced while cooking breakfast. He missed dearly finding comfort in her arms after a long mission. He missed every second spent by her side. Maybe she was the one who could mend his scars, maybe she was the right one.

Kakashi was beyond wrecked when he heard the rumors. It looked like she had started dating a civilian. And even though he wasn’t the jealous type, he opened his ears every time someone mentioned that man. His name was Yako, he was new in town and he had a young daughter. Kakashi knew Y/n liked children, she once confessed that she considered becoming a teacher at the academy. He felt insecure like never before, which felt so unlike him.

And now there he was, kissing another woman. She asked him out and he said yes thinking it could help him get over his comrade. But it didn’t. He spent the whole evening comparing her to the kunoichi and he felt so annoyed.

“See you around?” the woman asked with a fruity voice.

“Sure,” he waved and tried to smile as his date made her way home.

He figured it was best to take a walk rather than going back to his apartment and his choking emotions. Kakashi really enjoyed taking late walks, it helped him clear his head, it made his feelings and his thoughts feel lighter.

“Daddy, can we get some ramen?” he heard a little voice shouting.

He turned his head to see a tiny girl running to a tall man from the training grounds.

“Your training with Y/n really tires you, doesn’t it?” the brunette man chuckled as he ducked himself to hug the child.

Kakashi felt his blood boiling. That must be Yako, Y/n new boyfriend. They had reached the point of their relationship where she even took care of his daughter’s training.

“She gave her all today, I think she deserves that ramen.” Kakashi froze when he heard a familiar sweet voice.

“All right, Ichiraku it is then. Would you like to come with us, Y/n?”

A nip of jealousy formed in Kakashi’s stomach, guiding him to act in an impulsive way. Part of him wanted to resist the impulse to barge in their conversation but the other part was itching to do something about it. Either he tried reaching for her again or started forgetting her already, that moment was the breaking point. And before the young kunoichi could reply, Kakashi headed straight to the group.

“Kakashi-senpai,” her voice sounded surprised, her posture stiffened instantly.

“Oh! You must be Kakashi of the Sharingan, it’s such an honor to meet you!” the man cheered while stretching his hand in Kakashi’s direction.

“This is Yako and his daughter Nuura, they own the new bookstore.”

Kakashi gritted his teeth under his mask and nodded politely as he shook the man’s hand. So indeed, he was her boyfriend.

“It’s pretty late, what are you doing here?”

“Nuura is taking the Academy exam next month and Y/n very kindly offered to give her a hand.”

“She is always very kind,” he said more to himself than to the man. Y/n opened her mouth, her confused eyes searching his.

“Well, we were planning to get some ramen, would you like to join us Kakashi-san?”

“In fact,” Y/n interrupted as she composed herself. “I’m meeting my genin team early in the morning, so I should head home.”

“I’ll walk you home, I have some -uh- ninja stuff to discuss,” Kakashi blurted faster than he would’ve liked to. Y/n raised her eyebrow and nodded slowly.

Kakashi expected Yako to say something, he was her boyfriend at the end of the day. Was he simply going to let her walk home with another man?

“Good night, then. See you tomorrow, Y/n.” Yako smiled widely as he took his daughter’s hand and started walking away.

“What was that Kakashi? Why are you even here?” she inquired, a slight hue of annoyance in her voice.

Kakashi didn’t know what to say, why was he there?

“Are you dating him?” he tried to keep an emotionless voice.

“Who? Yako?” Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated. “What if I am? It’s none of your business!”

Before he could process his own actions, Kakashi leaned forward and smashed his lips with hers. Y/n wanted to fight the kiss but after a couple seconds she gave in, the kiss felt so consuming. It melted her walls. She had longed for him all those months they spent apart, there was no way of keeping those feelings hidden.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi mumbled as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t mean to interfere in your relationship but I thought- ”

“Yako and I aren’t together, I’m just helping Nuura. There’s nothing more,” she clarified unsure as to why she did, there was no future between them and she didn’t owe him any explanations.

“That’s… good.” Y/n pinned her eyebrows together, he was a big riddle she couldn’t solve. “I was wrong to think I could simply push you away.” Kakashi sighed heavily, “My past is full of regrets and I always thought I was meant to suffer on my own, but somehow you helped me withstand the uncertainty. You were there for me, you comforted me without judgements. I hope it’s not too late to say this, but I want to be with you. I want to walk by your side and to kiss you goodbye when you leave for a mission. I want to be there for you like you were for me. I w-” his words got lost in his throat as Y/n placed her hands on the corners of his face and pressed a gentle kiss on his warm lips.

“Took you long enough,” she teased, smiling against his lips.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you just needed time to grasp your feelings.”

Kakashi felt his chest lighter. All his life he had been carrying some heavy baggage and now he found someone who would share the weight with him. He realized he never felt so happy, nor his head had ever been this clear. He knew his life was about to get a little brighter at her side.

Hey guys! So this was my first time writing angst, bear with me. I also wanted to try a different perspective since I usually use first person. So I hope it’s good enough and more importantly that you liked it.

Also this is the last fic of the 100 celebration, I hope you enjoyed the daily fics. Without further ado, thanks for all your support and thanks for reading! <3

#Kakashi #kakashi sensei #Kakashi Hatake #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi fanfic #kakashi imagines #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x y/n #naruto #naruto anime #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #naruto imagines

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kalimagik · 5 years ago

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Eyes for Her

James Potter x Reader

Marauders Era

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: This is my submission for Millie’s ( @iliveiloveiwrite ) writing challenge! It took me some time to actually figure out the direction I wanted to take, but I think I found it and I hope you guys like it! I’m a sucker for a girl that can throw James Potter off his game ;) Feel free to like, comment, reblog, give me a follow! Even send an ask! (My next works will be the requests sitting in my inbox). Feedback always welcome! Happy Reading <3<3

Prompts: (bolded in text)

5. “Are you hitting on me?” “Only for the last year or so but thanks for noticing.”

8. “This is the part where you ask me out and I say yes.”

*Not my GIF! Credits to the owner

They were friends. They were friends, right? Y/N knew that James existed, she was close with Sirius, so she was around all the Marauders a lot. James wouldn’t say that they were close - exactly. See, James Potter was always charming and smooth talking, especially with the girls in his year, but when it came to Y/N Y/L/N, he was tongue tied. Every. Single. Time.

There was just something about her that shut him down when she was around. He could barely get a coherent sentence out. She was just so beautiful and smart and had the ear of everyone the moment she opened her mouth to speak. Honestly, she could give James a run for his money. She could honestly take his spot in the Marauders and they wouldn’t even notice. Well, he did beat her in one area. He was a notorious ladies man. He’d flirt with them, charm them, but never actually date them because he only had eyes for her. James, recently, had been flirting with other girls more and more as a sort of practice for talking to Y/N. It hadn’t worked up to this point as it was already 6th year.

The other Marauders had noticed James struggle with this over the years and he was not living it down.

“Y/N’s helping me study tonight,” Sirius looked up at James in the Common Room. “You want to try and hang around tonight orrrr?” he smirked as the messy haired boy’s head shot up.

“You really hit a chord there,” Remus snickered, watching the scene unfold.

“Stuff it,” James spat. “I can do this. Tonight is the night I talk to her.”

“Talking is one thing. Will you get full sentences out is the real question.” Sirius pointed out.

James threw a pillow in Sirius’ direction to show the frustration he felt. The boys continued to tease him, but James stuck his nose in a book, pretending to read. In reality, he was planning what he could say to her in his head.

James was in the bathroom. He may or may not have been attempting to comb his hair before Y/N arrived. He looked into the mirror, mentally preparing himself.

“Hello, love. Good to see you. How did you do on that Charms exam? Mhmmm…maybe more aloof? Cheers! Good to see you helping Sirius, he could use all the help he can get –”

“I take personal offense to that one,” Sirius piped up, leaning against the door of the bathroom. “I think you should lead with a joke. That’s your best stuff, Prongs,” he chuckled, rubbing his neck nonchalantly.

“Snub off.” James acted coolly even though he felt wildly embarrassed to be caught in this situation. He was not supposed to be one of those guys that got nervous around a girl and practiced what to say in the mirror.

“Chill out,” Sirius shook his head. “I’m just telling you that she’s walking up here in like 5 minutes, so pull yourself together.”

James followed Sirius out of the bathroom, his hair as if he hadn’t ever combed it to begin with. He just sat on his bed when a knock sounded from the door.

“Ready there, Prongs? Can you act natural?” Lupin baited the short tempered boy.

James could only shoot him a look before Sirius opened the door for Y/N. James felt his voice caught in his throat the second she walked in. She just did everything so effortlessly. She seemed like she didn’t have a care in the world. He was usually like that, but why did she pull the cowardly lion out of him?

“Evening, lads,” she grinned that Cheshire smile. “What have we been up to in here?” she asked as she closed the door.

“James did some primping,” Peter giggled. James made a mental note to hex him later as he sent him a glare.

“For me, Jamesy?” Y/N chuckled before sitting at the foot of Sirius’ bed and opening a book.

“I- uhhh…ummmm, not necessarily…”

“So are you going to help me or not?” Sirius interjected. Despite all his teasing, he could be useful when James felt like he was drowning in front of this girl.

“Right. History of Magic. Why do you always need help for the most boring subject? Couldn’t Remus help you? He’s smart!”

“Moony has refused to help me study History of Magic. He says I make too much of a joke out of it.”

“You do!” Remus called from his four-poster.

Once all the bantering settled down, the room did fall into a quiet, steady easiness. James pretended to be doing homework of his own while Y/N and Sirius went over Warlock Conventions and Goblin Revolutions. The dates and years too much for even James to follow. But, he wasn’t really paying attention to what they were studying. He was listening to the soft laughter that broke the silence every time Sirius made a joke. He was itching to say something, but what?

“Pads, you ever figure out the logistics of that prank?” Why had he said that? They didn’t even have a prank in the works. Sirius gave him a quizzical look that said he was thinking the same thing.

“Uhhh…” Sirius started.

“You guys are planning a prank? Can I help?” Y/N was fully interested.

This was not where he saw this going. He just wanted something to talk about, something so that she could hear that he could speak.

“Sirius, why didn’t you tell me? You said I could help with the next one!” Y/N playfully slapped Sirius’ arm as she turned back to James. “Tell me about it!”

“Uhhh…well, we were – uhhh…See, Remus concocted this charm and we were going too –” He was stumped there was no plan. He got all twisted up again. He shifted his glance from her focused face to Sirius’, only flashing a hint of ‘HELP ME!’ in his eyes.

James finally let out a sigh of relief as Sirius seamlessly took over. He was pulling bullshit out of thin air. James could usually do that. When Y/N left their room before curfew, James was breathing normally again.

“Hello, earth to James. Can you speak again?” Remus asked tentatively as James fell backwards onto his bed.

“That. Was. A. Disaster.” He spoke slowly, rubbing his hands over his eyes and under his glasses.

“You spoke a full sentence even if it wasn’t directly to her,” Peter offered.

“Shush!” James retaliated. “You literally told her I was primping earlier! I am in my right mind to hex you!” James tossed and turned as he went over the tragedy that turned into in front of Y/N. Maybe tomorrow would be better?

It was a new day and James successfully glided through his morning classes. He’d made a decision the previous night as he listened to Peter’s snores. He was going to ask her out today.

James peered around the corner to look at Y/N, trying to assess his plan of attack. She was surrounded by friends, but they all had been charmed by James before, they would be no issue. Maybe he should complement her or offer to carry her books? No, that would be weird. Or would it be sweet? Ughhh! Nothing seemed to be right!

“What are you doing, Prongs?” Sirius whispered in his ear. James jumped, not expecting anyone to talk to him. “Merlin, Padfoot! What did you do that for?”

“We’ve been standing here for 2 minutes!” James stood up to see that Peter and Remus were also standing behind him.

“You were doing that thing again where you watch Y/L/N.” Moony followed Sirius’s lead.

“Yeah, that’s getting pretty creepy, Prongs.” Sirius chuckled. James instinctively rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. He didn’t realize how embarrassing this actually was until they caught him. At least the other Marauders were the ones who caught him and not Snivellus.

“I’m trying to figure her out, okay?” James tried to defend himself. Now that he thought about it, maybe he had been staring at Y/N a little more than usual lately, but that was only because he was figuring out how to approach her on his own.

Around the corner, he could hear the echo of her laugh. Oh, that laugh. The first time he heard it, it sounded like Christmas bells ringing and it just floated across the air. There was something so genuine and happy about the sound. James was hypnotized from that moment on and he knew that he had to take her out or get close to her. He wanted to be the one causing that laugh.

“Prongs? Prongs! JAMES!” Sirius finally got his attention again. “Where did you go there?”

“Did you see the look in his eyes?” Peter teased. “He was obviously thinking about Y/N!!” Peter sang her name and for some reason, that pissed James off.

“It isn’t like that, okay?” James felt his temper starting to flare. They’d all had crushes before, so why was this one the end of the world?

“Why don’t you just breath and talk to her?” Moony asked, actually trying to give some advice or provide his friend with some guidance.

“Of course I have, you prat. The moment I start speaking, my voice just doesn’t work and I forget what I was going to say.”

“You dunce!” Sirius cut James off. “Are we even sure she knows who you are? We know she knows me, but are we sure that you aren’t just the boy that hangs around with us?” Sirius knew he was poking the bear.

“Of course she knows who he is! Everyone knows who James Potter is,” Peter beamed, looking towards James for approval.

“That means nothing. She messes with him occasionally, so we know that,” Remus shook his head.

“Remus is right,” Sirius agreed. “You need to woo her. Do something romantic. That’ll definitely get her attention!”

The other two boys nodded in agreement, but James just stared at them, trying to figure out where they were headed with this.

“What if he does something big in the Great Hall during dinner. If he says her name, then that would definitely get her attention.” Sirius seemed to be calculating what would happen in this big plan.

“Uhhh, guys?” James said.

“I don’t know if big would be the way to go,” Remus replied to Sirius. “Y/N definitely doesn’t WANT everyone looking at her all the time. What if he did something in the library? He could bring her something while she studies? Say she looked like she needed it?”

Peter’s eyes grew wide at the idea as James tried to interject again. “Hello? Mates?”

“Madam Pince would not like that at all.” Peter’s eyes showed fear as he thought about the librarian. “I had a cookie in there once and I still don’t think I can ever unhear her screams…” Peter’s face glazed over as he thought back.

“Wormtail might be right, Moony. There’s no way to scare away a girl like getting her in trouble with Madam Pince. What could he do?”

“You guys do know that I am still here, right?” James was practically waving his hands over his heads to get the other marauders to look at him.

“We know that,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “But you don’t get to be a part of planning this time, Prongs. You’ve messed it up too many times. So, we have decided to take matters into our own hands.”

The boys all stood around whispering while James listened, understanding that he was getting no input. Minutes went by and the ideas seemed to be getting more and more out of hand. If it wasn’t for Remus interjecting, Sirius would have James spelling her name in the sky on his broom. Why was he ridiculously romantic? The whole bad boy thing definitely was used to cover that up. The ideas seemed to be getting better until they were interrupted.

“What are you all doing?” Y/N’s voice spoke a little louder than Peter’s, who was giving his idea. “Are you planning that prank that James mentioned last night?”

“Uhhhh…” All boys were speechless. How did they explain this? They were caught in the act.

He didn’t know what it was, but James felt a surge of confidence and not embarrassment. “My mates were actually trying to help me figure out how to talk to you.”

Peter, Remus, and Sirius’ mouths all fell open, eyes widened to double their usual sizes.

“Talk to me?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, you, love.”

“Love, huh? You’ve never called me that before. All my friends, maybe, but not me.” Oh, how sassy she could be. “James, are you hitting on me?” Y/N asked, head cocked, eyes focused on the boy with glasses.

“Only been trying to for the last year or so, but thanks for noticing.”

“That can be hard to do when you only have so many words to work with.”

James glanced up to see the smile on Y/N’s face growing, bottom lip between her teeth. The rest of the boys were still in awe that this was happening right now. “So, yeah they were trying to figure out how to make talking to you easier for me. Sirius was being all romantic with these crazy ideas, but Remus wasn’t sure if that would be your style. Peter had –”

“Woah! Woah! Potter!” James quit his nervous rambling the moment her sweet laughter filled his ears. “So if I got this straight, then this is the part where you ask me out and I say yes.” That Cheshire smile was back. The same one that made his heart flutter the night before.

James coughed to clear his throat, planning the words in his head. She looked at him expectantly. She literally just said that she would say yes, so why was he freezing now? “Uhh, right, okay, so Y/N, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“Of course, James Potter. I thought you’d never ask! Pick me up for Hogsmeade on Saturday? 10 AM before everyone else leaves? We can grab lunch. See you later, lads,” Y/N waved to the other three before kissing James on the cheek and rejoining her friends.

“Did she-” Peter started.

“Just ask-” Remus followed.

“You out and plan the date?” Sirius followed, completely baffled. “I didn’t even know she liked you, mate!” Sirius slapped James on the back. The boy was still speechless. Did that really just happen? His heart was beating hard in his chest. It must’ve been doing that the whole time and he didn’t even know it.

“Well fellas, I guess I have a date to get ready for,” James grinned, watching Y/N walk away.

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yuna-dan · 5 years ago

Note

1.-Soulmate au with Logince?

If you want a large Logince involving soulmates you can always read my fic Countin’ on you and one of my favorite Impossible Possible

Now that the selfless promo is over…

A long time ago I read a Marvel Fic where when Steve always had Natasha on his wrist and when he woke up from the ice, he had Antony and I was reading some prompts to get ideas and I saw something like that and decided to write it! This idea however it’s not mine, and if I find the fic where this was inspired, I’ll posted here.

I hope you enjoy this, I did enjoyed writing it but at some point I think the story got confusing?? I hope not

Taglist: @awkwardkindanerd @cas-is-a-hunter @theunoriginaldaisy @underthesea73 @mariita-2006 @prinxietyforever @peanut0303

If you wanna be add to the list please interact with this

---Warning: Off-screen bullying. Slight Transphobia. Slight Violence. Cursing.--

Logan was five years old when the tattoo appeared on his left wrist. The name Rosaline Prince was written with a blue and pink ink, with italics and a beautiful lettering for the young kid.

He remembered how when the bullies found him, he wasn’t scared because she will wait for me. When he arrived home and showed his mama his tattoo, his mama kissed his hair and said “She will always be there for you”

Logan used to have a treehouse, that he used to escape reality of his parents constant bickering and the bullies who never left him. He was fourteen, and he was too old to have one.

He was going to clean it for the last time, and he got boxes to put all his childhood things there, maybe one day I can show it to Rosaline he thought.

He didn’t see a step, and he fell.

He broke his arm.

The arm where Rosaline’s name was.

He didn’t think about it too much. The doctors have to put a cast on it, and he decided on a blue color (the same blue of his tattoo, that way he could think of Rosaline).

When the doctors removed the cast, the tattoo was heavily crossed out with a large, thick black line.

“What did you do?” He asked to the nurse, terrified.

The nurse was staring back at him, with the same shocked face, “I-That has never happened.”

No one had any explanation.

He cried to sleep that night.

The tattoo disappeared after three days.

Logan didn’t even move out of his bed.

He was in the school, when he felt a small itch on his right wrist. He didn’t want to pay any attention, because he was doing a test.

When he delivered the test and left the classroom, he noticed that he had a different tattoo, written in red and gold.

Roman Sanders

He felt something on his stomach, his chest tightened, and his vision blurred.

A student was passing by, and Logan didn’t think about he just knew, “Hey, I am going to passed out, call a teacher.”

“Dude, what the fuc-?”

He passed out.

When Logan woke up in the, the same student was next to him.

“Dude, you have to know that’s the weirdest way to meet someone.” He started ranting once he noticed Logan was awake, “What the actual fuck, man?” He hissed.

“Yes, I am okay, thanks for asking, stranger.” Logan replied, sitting down in the bed. The guy glared at him.

“I’m Virgil, by the way.”

“Salutations.” Virgil made a face, but Logan ignored him, “I am Logan.”

Virgil snorted, “You talk funny, Logan.” He cleared his throat, “So, uhm, are you okay? Do you want me to call someone?”

“No, I am fine… just…” Virgil stared at him, but Logan shook his head, “No, never mind, thanks for helping, Virgil.” He clutched his right arm close to his chest.

The tattoo was touching his heart.

Logan was seventeen when he came out as pansexual, and it turned okay.

Logan was eighteen, when he went started college with Virgil, his roommate and best friend ever since that day.

Logan was nineteen when he told Virgil about his two tattoos.

“... and honestly, I have been researching everywhere and I just cannot find any information about new soulmate bounds.”

“Maybe she died?” Virgil offered.

“Wow, Virge, thank I need that.” He glared, and his friend mumbled a quick sorry.

“I don’t what to say, Lo.”

“I want to hate Roman, and I know I should not feel like that. He’s supposed to be my soulmate, but I just need to know what happen to Rosaline.” He sighed.

Virgil genuinely didn’t know what to say, so he just hugged his friend.

Logan definitely didn’t cry.

Logan was on his last semester of college and he fell exhausted, with all the final exams, his parent obsessing over his graduation party, the freaking graduation party…

Yes, he fell exhausted.

He normally didn’t like to buy coffee, but when saw the new coffee shop near his apartment he decided to try it, firstly because Virgil was with his soulmate in their shared apartment.

He sighed and rubbed softly the name Roman on his right wrist. Ever since Virgil met Patton, he felt weirdly sad and also guilty for feeling sad. He should feel happy for his best friend, and yet, here he was running away from their house because he felt sad when he saw them together.

“Are you ordering, specs?” The cashier asked, interrupting Logan’s thoughts.

“Uh, yes, sorry.” He fumbled with his wallet, “A Black Earl with almond milk, please.” The man smiled and Logan felt himself blushing, for some reason. “Anything, else?”

“Uh, no, that’s fine.” Logan squinted, trying to read the tag, “Roman S.?”

Logan felt how the air of his lungs suddenly left, but the man continued to take his order, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“For the tea…” Roman said, annoyed at the client. “We need your name.”

Logan spoke automatically, “You’re Rosie.” Roman’s face turned white, dropping the sharpie and cup he was holding.

“I don’t know who you are,” Roman Rosie said, “But you need to leave right now.”

“No, you…”

“No, my name is not Rosaline, my name is Roman Sanders and you need to leave, now!” He screamed, at the top of his lungs. Some clients were staring at them.

Logan didn’t want to leave, but the end he ran away.

When Remus entered the coffeeshop, he expected to see his twin and his boyfriend closing up. Ever since they left their dad’s house, Roman has been way happier. He started T a few months ago, and his mental health had been improving.

He was ready to pack everything off and go to home, maybe had some pizza.

He didn’t expect to see Damien and Roman sitting on a table, with a cup of tea, “I think Dad found us.” Was the first thing Roman said when he entered.

Damien was gripping his shoulder, “What do you mean?” Remus ears were ringing with anger, “Did he came here?”

Roman shook his head, and took a deep breath, “A man came. He called me… y’know, that.” He sighed, “I-I told him to leave and he, I don’t know.”

Damien interrupted, “I can take both of you to the police tomorrow.”

“No, mom will get worried.” Ro said, “I just want to forget about this.”

Remus bit his lip, “RoRo, I know but if you think Dad is back, we need to tell mom, and Damien is right, the police too.”

Roman shook his head, “No. I don’t want to.”

Remus was about to argue with his brother, because goddamit, he needed for Roman to understand that they were in danger, when the door opened violently and abruptly. Damien stood up, “We’re close, sir.”

Roman gasped, “It’s you!” He yelled, “I told you to leave me alone!” The man was getting closer and Remus hand was already on his phone, ready to call the police if necessary.

“No. Please let me…”

“If our dad sent you here…”

“No, please let me…”

Damien was standing between them, ready to fight if the moment asked for it Remus fucking love him, the man try to get closer, “Please, Roman, let me explain…”

Damien punched him, right in the eye. The guy was startled and looked back at Roman, who was holding back tears, “Roman, I’m your soulmate.”

The guy fainted.

---

Roman stared into Damien’s eyes, who was staring back at him. Remus wanted to laugh, really, but refrain himself from doing it, this was a serious moment and only a few minutes ago they all believed their lives were in danger, he shouldn’t really find this funny, not all...

Roman ran to check the guy’s pulse, and only then everyone realized the tattoo on his right wrist Roman Sanders.

“Oh my god Damien, you punched my soulmate!”

Remus laughed out loud.

When Logan woke up, he was in his apartment. He tried to sit up and winced when he felt pain on his back. He hissed in pain, “Yeah, sorry about that, Logan. No one knew you were going to faint and honesty, no one prevented you from hitting the floor.” Roman said.

“What?” Logan looked up and saw Roman his fucking soulmate in his living room.

“You really need to stop fainting when you meet important people, Logs.” Virgil was laughing between his sentence.

Logan groaned.

A few days later, when everything was explained I’m sorry I punched you, I thought my boyfriend’s asshole dad sent you and I’m sorry I called you by your deadname, but everything was confusing.

That was probably the weirdest way to find your soulmate, but they wouldn’t change it for the world.

They were in the coffee shop, Logan was waiting for Roman to close everything. They held hands when they walked to Logan’s apartment.

“Y’know…” Roman hummed in acknowledgment that he heard him, “It’s kinda funny.”

“What is?”

“I got your right name in the right wrist…” Logan laughed softly, “It’s almost as if the world knew about it and decided to play a pun.”

Roman laughed, “It is funny.”When they kissed that night, it felt fight, and it was fantastic.

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ppangjae · 4 years ago

Note

Very late to responding but I’m good 🥺 very tired like always , wbu 👉👈 - bun anon

and that’s what matter uwu 😤 I am happy you’re doing alright love 🥺🥰

I’m tired too SKDJJSKSKS

very tired

but my last exam’s tomorrow and i am itching to write I CANT WAIT

#ask alex #bun anon

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greekowl87 · 7 years ago

Text

Fic: False Flags - Ghost Ship

Summary: A sequel to False Flags Redux. Mulder and Scully attempt to reconnect on a vacation down in the Outer Banks to cope with their new relationship and the ghosts of their entwined past lives while, at the same time, Buckley escapes to try and exact revenge against our two favorite agents.

Author’s Note: No beta except myself. It’s cool. I know, I suck at grammar and writing. I tried to catch everything. I think this might be able to stand alone but it would help if you have already read False Flags Redux to understand the universe I have this set in then all the better. I've linked to the masterpost for the previous fic here for Tumblr and on AO3 for whatever you prefer reading.

I have been trying to write this for a few months and I have about four chapters written but I have no schedule for this except try and post when I can. I am in my final semester of grad school, I have a tendency to take on too many projects, I need to prepare for my oral exams, somehow find a job after graduation and I am terrible at time management. Writing False Flags last year was what I did to break up my school work and save my sanity so it will likely remain the same.

But lastly, before everything else, a massive thanks to @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm for posting the original prompt and being my soundbox for the first fic and this one. Other massive thanks to @frangipanidownunder and her @just-fic-already workshops that helped me flesh out the skeletal plot and for being awesome overall. And please, let me know what you think. I'm always eager for feedback.

Tagging @today-in-fic

The weather was unseasonably warm for a March day as Mulder drove down the long stretch of beach highway at a leisurely pace along Hatteras Island. As the sun beat down from above, he smiled at Scully with her eyes closed, wearing those odd rose-colored sunglasses. Her seat lounged back and two bare feet stuck out a partially open window. Dunes whipped passed on side of the highway that separated them from the Atlantic Ocean and on the other side, a grassy dune that separated them from the Pamlico Sound. Bob Marley played softly on the radio and Mulder continued to smile. “You awake, Scully?”

“Mmph.” She lifted her sunglasses and frowned. “What? Are we at the lighthouse yet?”

“Well, not yet, still got another thirty minutes of driving. Why aren’t you awake to enjoy these breathtaking views with me and listening to Bob Marley?”

“Because I am enjoying the warm sun and the sea air, Mulder.” She pulled back down her sunglasses and closed her eyes. “It does my soul good and it was not my idea to come down and go chasing ghost ships.”

“I just said that in passing!” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I did get us two weeks of vacation. The ghost ships were just an idea. The Graveyard Atlantic lays just offshore and I thought it could be fun. The whole point was for us to just be...us. No work involved.”

“I know, Mulder. I was just teasing.” She smiled. “But I thought Skinner was going to have a heart attack when we both told him and he might have caught onto our rouse. He doesn’t suspect anything, does he?”

“I don’t think so,” Mulder answered. He licked his lips and looked at Scully who still lounged back into the passenger seat. “Um, that was only part of the reason why I wanted to get away.”

“Mulder, don’t bring it up,” she told him shortly.

Her voice brokered no arguments and he shifted uncomfortably. “We need to talk about it, Scully.”

“No. We don’t, Mulder,” she snapped. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it.” She took a deep breath and sat upright in her seat. She played with the seat control until she was sitting comfortably. “I'm sorry, Mulder.”

“Do you just want to go back to Kitty Hawk tomorrow and stay up there?”

“It doesn't matter, Mulder.”

“To me it does,” he pushed. “That’s the whole point of this vacation! So we could get away from D.C. and the things that have been problematic. We work fine but this new relationship between us has been less than easy.”

At the very end of December, while they had been on a case, something incredible had happened. Both of them had realized past lives and that they shared a happy marriage and future during a time when the country was torn by war. These new memories had spurned them to pursue what was already there, dormant between into something. Both of them realized their past but were eager to make their own future. The first round of IVF had been unsuccessful. They spent the end of that January in her bed, pretzeled together in mourning. Less than two weeks later, with El Rico air base, tensions regarding Diana Fowley, that Scully thought they had moved past, came back. It was almost like Mulder was not himself. But afterward, punctuated with an end-all-be-all argument that almost destroyed them despite all they had been through, a delicate peace had been reached. But with all that, it had been weeks since they had been intimate. Mulder hoped, lured by the prospect of a vacation ghost tours and the beach, they might be able to reconcile or do something more productive.

“Mulder,” she sighed, “I’m here, aren’t I? That should be enough.” On the horizon, the black and white twisted Cape Hatteras Lighthouse came into view along with the small town of Buxton. She rolled down her window further and took a deep breath. “Let’s just enjoy the vacation the best we can. I don’t want to think about the FBI or work, okay? I just want to enjoy this little break away from everything.”

“Okay, Scully.”

She remained quiet and adjusted her sunglasses. There was a lot on her mind too. The failure of the first round of IVF. Fowley. And March 18th was just around the corner. While both of them still remembered their past lives together, she still remembered more vividly than he did. March 18th was the anniversary of their death in 1865. How was it to celebrate the anniversary of your own death? While Francis Buckley was awaiting trial for seven murders and kidnapping federal agents, she still felt uneasy and did not know what the source of her anxiety was. She glanced at her partner and subtly reached across the armrest and took his hand. Mulder glanced down feeling her warm hand hold his. He glanced at her and saw her staring dreamily outside the window overlooking the Pamlico Sound.

“We're going to be okay, Mulder.”

. . . .

The motel had a king sized bed was welcoming and the room in the motel itself was a few steps up from what they were used to staying in when out in the field but Scully could not dismiss the beauty of this room simply because they were yards away from the shore and she could not wait to watch the sunrise with him. She was already in bed when Mulder came out of the bathroom wearing just a pair of sleeping pants. She licked her lips already sensing that tonight would go no further than them cuddling in bed if that. When was the last time they had sex? Perhaps two weeks? She did not know but she did know that both of them were itching. A few short weeks of intercourse was like taking a sip of water after being parched for years. She was getting the same thirst after only a week. She sat up on the right side of the bed, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, as she flipped through a tourist magazine they had picked up after dinner.

“I tried looking for ghost tours. There aren’t many,” she replied casually. “Maybe we can pester the landmarks and National Parks Service by flashing our badges.”

“Ah,” he reminded her, “but we are right next to th Graveyard of the Atlantic.” He crawled into bed next to her. “If not, I know how you love the ocean. We could just, I don’t know, lay out there and do nothing. Be normal. The weather this week is supposed to be nice.”

Small things like this always surprised her and that is one of the reasons why she fell in love with him in this life and the last. She closed the magazine and whispered, “Do you know what date is coming up?”

“March 18th,” he answered, surprising her. “I know what it means.”

“I thought you wouldn’t take it seriously.”

“Why would I do that, Scully?”

She shrugged her shoulders. Closing the magazine, she set it on the nightstand along with her glasses. “Just with everything that had happened in the past month or so, I thought maybe you would have forgotten, Mulder,” she whispered. “With what happened in February. The IVF failure, El Rico...we’ve been fighting.”

“No. We haven’t.” Silence. He leaned next to her and pushed away a loose lock of red hair. “Have we, Scully?”

“Silence is deafening,” she whispered. She looked at him. “We haven’t...we haven’t talked like we used to. Not since before the IVF. Are you upset with me? Or was it El Rico? I can't stand feeling abandoned, Mulder. Talk to me, please.”

Mulder sighed and lowered the volume on the television. “I...you were right, Scully. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He leaned back into the pillows. “After Norfolk, she’s been trying twice as hard to get my attention. I lost focus. Of you, of us...after the failure, Scully…” His voice faded as he shook his head. “Those memories are still there, just like yours. I can recall them like any other. I remember you telling me about our...can I even call her our child? It was over a hundred years ago.”

“It was still our child. Or unborn child whether it was then or now,” she murmured. “I have been feeling it more acutely as well. Emily was hard, realizing what we had then and remembering it being ripped all away, and now this,” she murmured. “I hurt as well, Mulder. We both hurt. How do you think I feel knowing my womb is a barren wasteland unable to give you a child? You could have a family with anyone you want to. I don’t know why you waste your time with me.”

Scully had tears in her eyes and this was the first time in weeks they had expressed their feelings, truly expressed them, since that night they mourned the IVF failure. He was at a loss at what to do and old Mulder would have done nothing, but things were different now between them. Two lifetimes of memories and knowing who his true other half was made him do otherwise. “Scully,” he whispered tenderly, “look at me.”

She shook her head. “Forget it, Mulder. It’s not important.”

“It is,” he encouraged. “Scully, look at me.”

She shook her head again. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No,” he pushed. “I fucked up. I get it. Just don’t shut me out. I don’t want you to keep me out like you used to.”

“You didn’t fuck up, Mulder,” she whispered. “I just let myself hope too much.”

“You should be allowed to hope,” he continued. “You should be allowed to be happy. Scully, if given a third chance to be with you, no matter what, I would still take it. I don’t want to have a family with anyone else but you. Look at me, please.” She shook her head and Mulder cupped her cheek. “Look at me.” Her blue eyes darted to his warm hazel eyes and he smiled. “No matter what, Scully. You are the only one for me, I promise.”

She let out a breath she had been holding without knowing. What was wrong with her? When did simple words soothe a painful ache in her chest like a healing balm, although temporary. “I’ve been wanting to hear that for weeks,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry, Scully. Feel free to let me know next time, okay?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek chastely. Mulder gave a weak smile. “Let’s hit the sack, huh? We have two whole weeks of nothing. Best get an early start.”

“I want to watch the sunrise,” she whispered into his chest.

Scully was already sliding to Mulder’s side instinctively. He wrapped his arms around her and hooked his leg over her thigh. “Of course. Coffee and we can use those rocking chairs out front. Then what do you want to do?”

“Have breakfast with you,” she yawned.

“Then what?”

“I don’t care. We can decide then.” Scully wrinkled her nose at the television as The Drew Carey Show came on. “Turn the channel.” Mulder flipped the channels until he came across a cooking show on PBS. “This is good.”

“Cooking? Really?”

“It’s fine.” She kissed his breastplate and pressed her ear to listen to his heart. Mulder nodded and turned out the lamp on the table. Scully closed her eyes, feeling his left hand gently rub up and down her back. She closed her eyes and felt some the hurt and resentment that had lingered ebb away. She was relaxing. “I missed this.”

“I never went anywhere.”

“We need to talk about our feelings more,” she murmured. “Both of us.”

He nodded, kissing her hair in affirmation. “Will do.”

“Mulder?”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m glad we decided to take a vacation.”

“Me too, Scully, me too.”

. . . .

Mulder awoke with a soft grunt as he felt feather soft kisses against his neck and her small hand tracing suggestively against his lower abdomen. He was momentarily disoriented as he opened his eyes and saw that is was still dark outside. Scully had already wormed herself onto his lap, straddling him, and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. “Wake up, sleepy head.”

Mulder groggily opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light coming from their en-suite bathroom. He smelled coffee. She kept rubbing his biceps up and down as if trying to keep him warm. As he opened his eyes and he met her keen blue eyes as she smiled. Memories blended together as they both smiled. “Morning, Scully.” He gave her a gentle kiss. “Did you sleep okay?”

She nodded and continued to hold him. “I’m glad we talked last night, Mulder.”

“You are?”

She nodded and arched an eyebrow quizzically. “Why are you surprised?”

“I just thought, after all that, you’d be more upset? Angry even with me. I don't know. We aren't the best about talking about our feelings.”

She pursed her lips in thought as she stroked his chest. “I’m still hurting inside, Mulder, from everything that’s happened to us but you are here now. Maybe I was being jealous.”

“Which you had a right to be.”

“Smart man,” she teased, resting her forehead against his. “But when it’s all said in done. We’re here together, after everything. I say that counts for something, doesn’t it?”

He closed his eyes and nodded slightly. She was too good to him, too good. Sometimes, Mulder questioned why, after such a long life of failure and loneliness, she still stuck around him and put up with him. “You’re a good man, Mulder. I would not stay around with you this unless you weren’t.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Mulder,” she sighed, kissing his forehead, “stop being a martyr. How many times do I need to tell you? Stop. Come watch the sunrise with me, Mulder.”

“Sunrise?”

“I made coffee. We can canoodle.”

“Canoodle? Is that scientific term for coupling, Dr. Scully?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

She could always rescue him from the darkness, even at his worst. “What would I do without you?”

“I don’t even want to entertain the thought, Mulder.” She took a deep breath to steady them. “I want to move past everything we’ve suffered. Do you remember what you said back in December? What we decided?”

“The future is unlimited.”

“Right.”

She pulled him out of bed and he shivered slightly and pulled on a sweatshirt as Scully wore her on aUniversity of Maryland. He smiled and probably thanked his stars for the nth time that he and Scully had evolved over the past few months. She caught him staring at her and she flashed a coy smile. “What, Mulder?”

“Nothing, Scully. I just… I just never get tired of this.” She poured them two small cups of coffee and handed him one cup. Together, the went outside to the porch of the motel where two plastic rocking chairs sat, just like every other motel room, and they sat next to each other. Mulder chuckled softly and she arched an eyebrow questioningly. “I just...I never imagined that...this I mean. Never mind, Scully.”

“No,” she soothed, rubbing his forearm. “Tell me, Mulder.”

“There had been a few times since this…” He gestured between them. “I just…”

“What, Mulder?”

“I m just glad you’re here.”

. . . .

Buckley's chest hurt and with the flurry of noise in his head, it made it hard to concentrate. Three lifetimes was enough, he decided, to have all those voices in his head. Somewhere, on his transportation to some maximum federal security prison in Kentucky, he found himself outside of the prison bus, drenched in his orange jumpsuit. He stumbled on the road for a while, his chest heaving with fire and his head disorientated. He had been on a bus in the middle of North Carolina when two black SUVs had come out of the air and stopped the bus. Everyone else was shot but him. Buckley’s memories had been more troubling lately and after the setback in Norfolk, become more unbalanced. The prison doctors tried to dope him up with meds with he awaited to stand trial. But along with the men that emerged from the black SUVs was an older man smoking a cigarette. Buckley could not remember what he said but the next thing he knew he was free and had note crumpled in his hand, reeking of cigarette smoke.

Finish what you started.

. . . .

After they watched the sunrise, Mulder and Scully packed up their few things that they had brought out from the car and headed up northwards towards Nags Head and Kitty Hawk from Buxton. March was still unseasonably mild and it influenced Scully’s thoughts right before they were ready to climb into the driver’s seat. “Mulder,” she called. “If I can find a place, what would you say to a couple’s surf lessons?”

“Surf lesson?”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Surf, Scully?” Scully let herself drop into the passenger seat before slamming the door. Mulder snorted in amusement as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Surfing. Where would you ever get such an idea?”

“Don’t forget who grew up in San Diego during my teenage years. I did my fair share of hanging ten back in the day. It’ll be fun, Mulder. Come on.”

“I’ll give it some thought. So, we won’t be staying in some dingy motel room.”

“I like last night's room,” she countered, “wasn’t that bad, Mulder.”

“The view paid for itself.”

“Tell me what you planned.”

“You know, after Arcadia, I really dig this domestic thing with you,” he smiled, taking her hand.

Scully chuckled and looked out the window bashfully. “Arcadia. Mulder. We aren’t the Petries anymore. We’re Mulder and Scully. What is our domestic thing?”

“Ah, a lifetime…”

“Three years,” he murmured softly. “And so much time lost.”

“But we are here now, aren’t we, Mulder? A little thing like death couldn’t stop us.”

“I suppose.” He kissed her knuckles. “We have a small two bedrooms one bath beachfront cottage for the next two weeks. Just you, me, sex, and the beach.”

“A beach house.”

“A beach cottage, “ he corrected with a sly smile. “It sounds more romantic.”

“Fox Mulder is romantic. Who knew such a thing existed.”

“Give me some credit, Scully. How many times have I been wrong?”

Scully continued to smile and she rolled her eyes. “I’m glad we did this, Mulder.”

“Me too.”

. . . .

Mulder smiled as he watched Scully’s face light up in a warm smile as the sounds of crashing waves carried from beyond the sand dunes. She took in the small beach house with its quaint blue paint on its walls and the bright yellow shutters and doors. She glanced at her partner with a sly smile. “It looks like a hobbit hole, Mulder,” she said, “well a hobbit hole on the coast.”

“Scully,” he smiled, “I didn’t know you were into Tolkien.”

“I’m not per say but I did read The Hobbit and The Silmarillion.”

“But not The Lord of the Rings?”

“That was Bill’s thing,” she shrugged. “Or it tried to be. Mom and Dad bought him the entire collection, including all three books, The Hobbit, and The Silmarillion. He read a hundred pages of one, I can’t remember which one, but he gave up. We went to San Francisco or some family vacation. I was eight, still young enough to bother my older siblings but too old to hang out with my baby brother. That left me alone with books for the summer.”

“So you just read all summer?”

“And learned to surf,” she shrugged. “Apparently my small height made me a natural and made me the envy of my siblings.”

“I still can’t picture it.”

“I didn’t get the chance again until my senior year of high school. It was just like riding the bike and still made me the envy of the girls that summer, even though I was as red as a lobster.”

“Have you done it since?”

“No,” she grinned. “Wouldn’t that make our little vacation fun?”

“Are we going to do the whole tourist thing? We can’t lay out on the beach for two whole weeks.”

“Why not?”

“You said it yourself, you’ll become a boiled lobster, and as much as I love lobster,” he said, waggling his eyebrows for emphasis, “I don’t want you to suffer sunburn. So if I indulge in your couples’ surf lesson, you have to pretend to be a tourist with me.”

“Fine,” she conceded. She paused their unloading of the car. “Why don’t we take a moment and check out the house?”

“Is that code for something, Scully?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

She took the rental keys from his outstretched hand. She pulled teasingly at his arm as he playfully dragged his feet. They climbed the wooden steps, admiring the quaint view. Mulder pursed his lips in thought. “I can hear the waves. I can’t wait to see the view.”

Scully turned the keys and heard the deadbolt unlock. The door swung open and they took in the first floor of the rental. Like many of the rental homes on the barrier island, some sort of variant of nautical or sea theme weaved its way through the decor and this rental was no exception. Two bedrooms and a shared bath made up the first floor and Mulder nudged Scully along. “Unless you want to sleep in separate rooms, move along, Starbuck.”

“Unless you want playhouse again.”

“Stop it. Let’s go upstairs and see the main floor. I read that the master bedroom, kitchen, living room, and the deck is all on the top floor and it overlooks the ocean,” Mulder informed her like a brochure.

She chuckled and they ventured up the flight of stairs and into the wide open white space where all the amenities home mingled together like a loft. She was immediately drawn to the sliding glass door and the breathtaking view on the Atlantic with an empty beach and breaking waves. She could see a few surfers in the water and she jumped slightly when Mulder came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her hair. She relaxed back into his embrace and sighed. “This is lovely.”

He kissed her neck and whispered. “I know it’s no river…”

“Mulder, what did I tell you?” He quieted. “We don’t let our past define our future. I love it.” She turned her head slightly giving him a sweet kiss. “And I’m glad I’m here with you and away from Washington.”

“Me too,” he agreed softly.

. . . .

Close to three hundred miles away in a gray, drab building known as the Hoover Building, Assistant Director Skinner rolled his neck and heard something pop. When his agents came with the surprise request of two weeks off of vacation time, he thought there was some sort of joke being played, but surprisingly, they were serious. Skinner wisely kept his mouth shut at the well-timed vacation requests noticing how much closer they had grown since the events of last December. He knew about the water cooler talk that floated around the Hoover building about those two. He had no doubts about the validity of those rumors but the way he figured it, it was just rumored and he let them have their time off. Hell, at the very least, he would not suffer from one his chronic headaches those two were known to cause. Distracted, his desk phone began to ring.

“Skinner,” he greeted gruffly.

“Assistant Director Skinner? This is Special Agent Darren Benson from the Norfolk Branch.”

Skinner dropped his pen and leaned back into the chair. “ASAC Benson. We met briefly in December.”

“SAC Benson now. I’m in charge of the Norfolk field office.”

“Congratulations on the promotion but I have a feeling that there is more than just this tidbit of news.”

“Yes, sir. I tried to reach Agents Mulder and Scully earlier this morning but I was unable to get them.”

“They are on a leave of absence for the next two weeks which is probably why you got forwarded to me,” Skinner grunted. “And likely their phones off.”

Benson sighed on the other end of the line. “Have you been watching the news, sir?”

“No. Should I?”

“It’s all over the local news down here and I’m surprised it hasn’t made national headlines yet. I am already coordinating with the Eastern North Carolina field office.”

“Spit it out, man.”

“At 11:25 last night, the guards on the prison transport were found gunned down, all of the execution style. Francis Buckley was not found with no sign of his location or possible escape.”

“What?”

“Yes, sir and my guess is, after what happened after he was recaptured, that he will likely go after your agents again.”

Skinner sighed, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming back on. “I’ll try to reach them.”

“You better hurry, sir. I’ll keep you in the loop with what’s going on done here.”

“Heard on that, Benson.”

Skinner slammed the phone down and sighed. Jesus, he thought, here we go again.

. . . .

Finish what you started. That’s what the smoker had said. It’s harder to keep everything straight these days but the cigarette smoking man, he’s got the right idea. Damn, right I’m gonna finish what I started.

. . . .

As the day progressed, the partners carried their luggage up to the first-floor master bedroom suite, made up the bed with cheap king size bed sheets that bought at the Wal-Mart as soon as they crossed over the Wright Memorial Bridge. Scully’s dazzling smile and laughter kept distracting Mulder as she took advantage of it and pinned and straddled him on the bed suggestively, which he, of course, responded to, and they lost a couple of hours testing the bed. They tried to clean up but they also tested the shower in the process. As they dried off, Mulder mumbled something about how the rental was already earning its money. By early evening with the agents showered and changed and their luggage put away, Scully stood in the bare kitchen admiring the empty cabinets and fridge. Mulder strolled through the living room with one of those entertainment guides.

“Mulder,” she called gently. “We should pick up some groceries after we go out to dinner.”

“That’s a good idea. Hey, what are you feeling for food tonight? Fancy or no?”

“Just find us a place to eat, Mulder. It’s not that hard.”

“There’s a place down the road near a grocery store called Hurricane Larry. All you can eat steamed shrimp is on special tonight along with pitchers of beer. Or there’s this other place, a bit fancier, called The Black Pearl.”

“We can save the fancy place from a few days from now, let’s just hit up this Hurricane Larry and do grocery shopping afterward,” she told him. “I really want to take advantage of the fresh seafood while we are here, Mulder.”

“I don’t blame you. I looked at the forecast yesterday before we came down. The weather is supposed to be nice all this week.”

“That’s good to know,” she acknowledged, shutting the cabinet doors. “You ready to go?”

He nodded and set the entertainment guide down on the coffee table as she collected her purse from the kitchen table, purposely ignoring the cell phone and the nagging feeling that she should check it. She nodded as Mulder placed a warm, guiding hand on the small of her back as they jogged down the steps and out to their awaiting car. Outside, the spring air carried the heavy humidity of summer but somehow was whisked away by the Atlantic sea breeze. She watched Mulder fumble with the car keys in a strange twilight moment where her past memories and emotions collided with her current ones and she felt a love for the awkward knight in shining armor who just dropped his keys strongly. Mulder picked up the car keys triumphantly and noticed the glazed, distant look in Scully’s eyes. “Still with me?”

“Yeah.” She blinked a couple of times, refocusing her gaze and giving him a warm smile. “Yeah. I'm still here.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“As if you don’t as well. Come on, my stomach is growling, Mulder.”

They climbed into the car and Mulder pulled out onto the main drag of highway as Scully turned the radio up slightly as the Red Hot Chili Peppers “Otherside” came on over the car radio. Without thinking, he took her hand and held it over the headrest. “It should be right up on mile marker 4,” she told him.

“You know I have an impeccable sense of direction,” he told her proudly.

She hummed in suspicion before looking back out to the passing lights and other cars as he continued to drive. Mulder looked over at his partner and then focused back onto the road. Maybe this trip would be good for them if earlier that was any indication of the rest of their vacation, it would be very pleasant indeed. “Have you checked our cells yet?”

“Why would I? I do not want to deal with anyone, not work, not family,” she shrugged.

“Oh, how did Bill take the news over your birthday?”

“Be glad we were undercover,” she laughed, “and he didn’t know that we were in San Diego at the time. I feel like it would have been another missing family.”

“You would protect me though, right? Me and my manly honor?”

“Isn’t it suppose to be the other way around?”

Mulder slowed and turned onto a side road near the ocean side as he looked at her incredulously. “No, if it weren’t for you, well, let’s say I should have died long ago.”

“Don’t talk like that, Mulder. Remembering once is enough.”

“And you,” he coughed. “Don’t go doing it on me anytime soon.” He thought of Ritter and that bullet, how she should have died a second time but some miracle, just like this life, she had a second chance. “I would have killed the weasel, for the record.”

“Noted, Mulder.” She perked up into the passenger seat and pointed to a small building crowded with bikes and other cars. “That’s it.”

“Hm. It looks like somewhere we would go to on one of our cases,” he chuckled. As he pulled into the parking lot, he slowed, hearing the beginnings of music. “And it sounds like they have a band here tonight.”

As they got out of the car, she nodded to a small catwalk that carried out over into the parking lot into a sort of crows nest. “And an outdoor bar.”

“What do you think, Scully? Inside or outside?”

“Let’s eat outside tonight,” he proposed. “I bet the view is to die for.”

As they finished parking the car, Scully took his hand as they climbed the steps into the main building and she laughed as they entered the main dining area and saw it cast a psychedelic glow with the main dining room cast with blues, purples, and yellows in a hurricane of cosmic galaxies and other-worldly things. She pressed against him and whispered. “Must be love.”

“Cosmic galaxies get your juices going, Scully?”

“You know better than to ask me that.”

A hostess appeared giving them a tired smile. “Good evening,” she greeted. “Two for tonight?”

“We were actually wondering if we could eat upstairs on the deck,” Scully replied.

“Of course. Would you like a table or go to the bar?”

“Table,” Mulder answered.

“My pleasure,” the host answered grabbing two menus. She led them back outside up a quick flight of steps to the upper level of the restaurant where there was a small bar and handful of tables spread out. She gestured to a table that sat next to the end with a perfect view over the dunes and of the darkened beaches and waves. “Will this do?”

“Perfect,” she answered pulling out a chair. “Thank you.”

“I could have gotten that for you,” he told her feigning mock hurt. “But I know better.”

“Of course you do, Mulder.”

Before Mulder could sit down, a waiter vaporized out of thin air and was smiling cheekily. Scully caught her partner’s smirk as he sat down in the chair next to her. “Good evening, folks. Can I get you started on something?”

She was already glancing at the menu, ordering for Mulder without even consulting him. She ordered them a pitcher of beer and an appetizer of fried oysters and mahi mahi. He arched an eyebrow and whispered, “Fried, Scully? Be still my heart.”

“Must be love, Mulder.”

She reached to take his hand and give it a late squeeze and he rewarded her with a soft smile. Dinner was a quiet affair as they talked about their coming vacation, past cases, and they also found themselves reconnecting after the past tense month. Mulder sipped his beer thoughtfully and whispered, “We should celebrate your birthday too, Scully.”

“We did.”

“Pretending to be married and chasing garbage monsters don’t count, Scully.”

“We were married.”

“We haven’t adequately addressed the present, have we?”

“Or the future.”

“No.” Silence engulfed them and she shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We haven’t really talked about the last…”

“I know,” she replied, cutting him off.

“We need to, Scully.”

“We need to do a lot of things, Mulder.”

He sighed and looked at the Atlantic. “It’s hard, Scully. I remember what you said when we came back down to Yorktown. You said you were yourself all at once, that memories from 1865 and our marriage are the same as the ones we had as I had to watch the cancer ravage your body. We were happy, Scully and I am happy now too but we aren’t married, are we?”

“Mulder, how would that change anything between us?”

“We just got the x-files back less than a month ago. I know, well I hope you know, that whatever was between me and Diana is done.”

“I haven’t thought about that since December,” she spoke softly, picking at the leftovers of their dinner. “And I thought we were past that, Mulder.”

“I just...I sense some doubt lingering, probably mine, but I just want to make sure.”

She sighed, taking his hand. “You, Fox Mulder, are the most insecure man I know, and you shouldn’t. I have witnessed it first hand.” He chuckled. “But there should be no doubt, Mulder.”

“I just thought, with the past month and all,” he mumbled as his cheeks grew a shade darker. “Between the cases and the IVF…”

“We can,” she started, drawing a deep breath to steady her voice, “we can always try again, Mulder.”

“But do you want to?”

“I...I don’t know yet,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry, Scully.”

“Mulder, don’t make me box your ears,” she threatened to try to change the tone. “We’re on vacation for two weeks. Maybe we can chase a ghost ship or something.”

He gave her a weak smile, pulling her knuckles to his lips. “What would I do without you?”

“Mulder, shut up and drink your beer. I think they have a band about to start.”

. . . .

As Mulder’s wristwatch neared 10:30, Scully left a few bills on the table for a tip, gathered up her purse, slipped her arm through Mulder’s, and they descended the deck back to their car. The beer warmed Scully’s blood and the ocean air invigorated her. She wasn’t drunk but could feel the beginnings to a good buzz coming along. She mused as they separated and climbed into the car. They came to the Outer Banks without any particular plans or goals. Since the first failure of the IVF, things were tense. Playing as husband and wife should have come easily to them in Arcadia, but the tension worsened, forcing Mulder to sleep on the couch for the first couple of nights. She shivered at the thought.

“AC too cold, Scully?”

“No,” she responded. “Everything’s perfect.”

Was it though?

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m just tired, Mulder.”

She gave him an easy smile as he made the short drive back to their rented beach house. Scully started up the steps in front of Mulder, unlocking the door as he came behind her, wrapped a strong arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. “You ready for bed?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied holding him momentarily. “I picked up some of those tourist magazines. What do you say we watch the sunrise, have some coffee, and figure out what to do this trip?”

“I would like that.”

She tugged at his hand as they entered the home. He locked the door soundly and followed her upstairs as she flipped the living room lights on. She dragged her feet into the bedroom and began to get ready for bed. He titled his head in thought gauging his luck. Not tonight, he decided, tonight was just reaffirming what they had. He walked into the master bedroom, stripping his shirt in the process and watched as the crawled under the blankets.

“Wanna watch anything in particular?” he asked. “I can see if a game is on or something for you. Or PBS?”

“Local news is fine.”

“Okay.”

Mulder dressed down to boxers and climbed in on the left side of the bed and flipped on the television. “How long with the sleep timer?”

“90 minutes,” she yawned.

Mulder set the sleep timer and turned off the lights. Scully immediately reached for him and settled comfortably next to him as her arm and leg coiled around him. She sighed contently as her head rested against his chest.

“I'm glad, we're here, Mulder.”

“Me too.”

Her eyes began to grow heavy as she listened between Mulder's heartbeat and the 11 o'clock news. His fingers absently played with Scully's red locks as he watched the weather forecast.

“Sunny skies all week,” he said.

“Mmm...'at's nice.”

He smiled and watched the newscast pan away from the meteorologists to the lead broadcast journalist. “In other news, a prisoner escape happened late last night in Pastequtank County. The prisoner was being transported to a max federal security prison. The prisoner, Francis Buckley, was caught this past December in Norfolk after taking two FBI agents hostage. He is awaiting trial for kidnapping charges and allegedly killing seven people. The FBI, the U.S. Marshalls, and local police are involved in a two-state manhunt. If you see anything suspicious, call this number or 1-800-LOCK-U-UP. In other news, the Norfolk city...”

Scully had heard the new anchor and Mulder had become tense. “Did he...”

Mulder had already torn himself away from Scully and was digging through their still packed bag. He found his phone and pushed it to his ear. Scully watched an array of emotions play across his face: fear, anger, determination. “Skinner left us messages and SAC Benson too. Buckley's escaped, Scully.”

“What?”

“They didn't say any details. I'm calling Skinner.”

“Mulder!”

He stormed into the living room and saw him picking up the cordless phone and dialing a number. She followed as he put the call on speaker. “Where the hell have you been, Mulder? I have been trying to reach you for hours.” Skinner was on the warpath.

“I'm on vacation, Skinner.”

“Have you been in contact with Scully?”

“I'm here, sir.”

Mulder glanced up and held out his hand to Scully. She took it as he pulled her close. “Agent Scully, I thought you said you were on vacation.”

“I am,” she murmured.

“Fuck it. I don't care why you both are on vacation together. You saw the news I take it?”

“Yes, sir,” Mulder answered.

“What progress has been made?” Scully piped up.

“Nothing. All the guards were found dead, execution style. There was a pack of Morley's found at the scene.”

Mulder and Scully shared a long gaze. “Anything else,” Scully asked.

“Not yet. The evidence is still being analyzed and Benson is running on point, I'll let you know when I hear something.”

“We should do something, sir.” Scully looked at Mulder for affirmation.

“It's probably best you don't do anything,” Skinner sighed, “or get anywhere near this. I noticed the area code. 252.”

“We're in the Outer Banks,” Mulder answered. “Kill Devil Hills.”

“Good. Stay there. Don't get involved. I'll call you if there are any changes.”

Their boss hung up without another word. Scully sat on the couch and rested her face in her hands. Mulder sighed, feeling another moment where he did not know if it was his current or past memories causing his deja vu. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug as she kept her eyes shut tight.

#false flags redux #ff ghost ship #xfiles #xf fic #txf #txf fic #msr #msr fic #case file #novel length fic #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #fluff #angst #season 6 #xf season 6 #i think of more tags later.

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truemanblack · 7 years ago

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A/N: hi! this is a filler before I wrote Aimee in her dom space (WOOHOO!!) so I wanted to write some dirty fluff lmao. so here you go!!

The Marriage: Part Eight Six Seven

It’s been a bit since the intense, sex with Harry. It was the weekend finally and I was happy to not have to study for an exam. We met with someone from immigration today – I couldn’t be assed to remember their name. She was sweet, totally believed us. Harry had journals throughout the years explaining our relationship, I had a scrapbook Harry and I made together last year when we both had a flu, which was probably carrying our flu virus on each other the pages. We had to go through a few interview stages with our friends, we had to make them come though. Harry has also been insisting that I wear a ring, he found a rose ring that looked just like his with a diamond in the center. It was very him. I wasn’t a jewelry person at all, I hadn’t even gotten my ears pierced.

We were sitting in his car, ever never really drove since everything was in walking distance, but I told him my parents were hosting dinner tonight and I told them I would come. But I had to tell him the most embarrassing thing, and it was eating at me.

“What’s up?” Harry spoke as I was playing with my thumbs, we were almost to my parents and I was going to throw up.

“Fuck, this is so embarrassing.” I was nervously laughing, and he was pouting, he didn’t like when I was holding stuff in. “My mothers think we’ve been dating for the last four years.” Harry erupted with laughter, he was laughing so hard noise wasn’t coming out. “It’s not funny! It slipped out oh my god!”

“You’re such a dork, oh my god.” I was pouting, and I could see tears falling down his face. “I mean, when they interview them it’ll be quite real.”

“Shut it, I hate everything about this, you’re going to milk it so hard.”

“I’m going to milk it dry, just like I do you.”

“Stop, that was gross.” He rolled his eyes and pulled up to the drive way. I was in for a very, very, long night. Plus, we agreed to stay the night, which I’m now really regretting.

Harry had his hand on the small of my back and I knocked on the door. He was still laughing from what I told him. I couldn’t get over how he was dressed, he’s such a fucking dad. He has on these pinstriped pants with a white shirt, laid back for him, sometimes he would wear high waisted slacks with a Tommy Bahama shirt, embarrassingly cute.

“Aimee!” My mother, Ann, spoke pulling me into her arms. “You must be Harry! It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure, Aimee has been a bit stubborn about me not comin’ ‘round here.” He winked at me and I rolled my eyes at him.

“She can be like that, sometimes.” Ann was a redhead, she sorta looked like Miranda from Sex and the City but way shorter and not a workaholic. While Jenny, my other mother, was taller, very fit, she had long brown hair, very warm welcoming eyes.

“Hi Harry, I’m Jenny.” She introduced herself and I could feel my face go red. I’d always imagine him meeting my parents, maybe during a holiday and we shared a meal and he still would embarrass me. I would think about our families interlocking, not even in a romantic way.

My mothers made me as anal and insane as I am today. We’re sitting on the ground around the coffee table, sitting on fucking throw pillows, because they threw out their old dinning room table before the new one arrived. They made tacos for dinner which made it worse because, Zoe, our little pug was eating all the crumbs off me.

“Why couldn’t you just wait for a new table or keep the old one, ya crazies.” I asked as Zoe climbed into Harry’s lap and was sniffing at his shirt. I tried to pull her off, but Harry insisted that she stayed.

“It all happened so fast, we got a new table, we threw out the old one, the new one hasn’t come yet, and the garbage man left with the told one.” Ann spoke, and I could see Harry laughing against his hand.

“God, I see where Amelia, gets it now.” Harry laughed, and I rolled my eyes at him. Jenny had been staring at me all night.

“What’s up?” I looked at her and she rose her eyebrows at me, “You’ve been looking crazy at me all night.”

“You’re wearing an engagement ring.” She blinked at me and I rushed my hand into my lap, my face felt warm. I didn’t want to tell them yet. Harry looked at me, his eyes big, he was ready to tell them. He liked calling me his wife, I had to legally change my name to Amelia Sara Styles, and he was so excited about that.

“It’s a long story.” I had to tell them the truth, I hated lying, I didn’t know how to.

“It’s my fault, I should’ve said something.” Harry spoke up putting his hand over mine. “I know we all haven’t properly met, but I couldn’t just keep a good one like this off the market for long.”

“I don’t know if he’s being truthful or not,” My eyebrows furrowed together, I was scared that they would get angry at us, angry at me with coming up with the idea. I was a very strong person until it came to my mothers getting angry at me. Disappointed, rather, they would be disappointed. “Harry, was going to have to go back, and he still is studying here, he’s getting his doctorate, in English. So, the only way he could stay was being married, so we got married.” My mother’s faces were stoned. “I love him I couldn’t just let him go!” I could feel Harry’s eyes on me, he was rubbing at my back now.

“Amelia, that’s all great and all, but you know there’s a big process with that. And you said you two we’re pretty private.” I watched Harry cover his mouth, probably to cover his laugh.

“Well, Harry kept journals, I don’t know what they said, and we had a scrapbook.” I replied, trying to plead with them that it meant well.

“My journals are for the last four years of us,” Harry spoke up and I could feel my heart bursting. “I mean, not like just about us, but our relationship, and like daily life.”

“That’s actually very romantic,” Ann spoke up and started to clear our pets, Zoe quickly followed after her as she went to put away the dishes in the kitchen.

“Still, a bit shocked that Aimee never brought you around.” Jenny spoke up before moving from the floor to the couch.

“I’m pretty sure she’s ashamed of me,” Harry laughed, and I was shaking my head.

“Shut up,” I mumbled and patted a spot on the couch for him.

“Look at how she treats me!” My moms were both sitting on the couch looking at us. It was nice, having everyone in one room, Zoe’s snorting, Jen’s yawns, Ann’s snort when she laughs – and Harry. “So, would you two be willing to do an interview for us? For the immigration.”

“Of course!” They said in unison and I felt a pinch on my forearm from Harry. We all talked some more before we agreed to go to bed. We didn’t have a spare room in my family home, and I only had a twin bed, I tried to convince Harry to let me sleep on the ground since he was a guest, but he insisted on me to sleep on the bed.

“What were you like in high school?” He asked as he sat on my bed. I felt shy having him in my room.

“Artsy, I guess, I wasn’t that popular, but people knew about me.” I shrugged, “I listened to a lot of emo music, too.” I’m assuming he couldn’t tell by my posters, my parents kept it the same and I appreciated it, made it feel homey. The walls littered with Alternative Press posters, I had an old record player that had a few post-punk albums for my darker days, and a huge ‘Lost in Translation’ poster on the back of the door. “What about you?” I sat next to him and started to toe off my socks.

“I played football, I was in a band called White Eskimo,” I laughed as he grinned up as me, “Have you ever made out with anyone in here.”

“Boys? No. Girls? Yes.”

“I always forget that you tend to like women more,” He was pulling me on to his lap. I was facing him straddling his waist. He moved himself to my pillow on the bed. “Probably proper hot to see you dominate a woman.”

“I’ll be proper hot when you let me dominate you, in totality.” I winked, and he smirked.

“I know, I have to be prepared when you your sweet little face calls me a ‘baby’. I don’t have to call you mummy do I?” I gagged, and he laughed which shook the both of us. “What do you like to be called when you’re in your zone?”

“Princess or Goddess, really gets a girl goin’” His hands were finding their way under my shirt, rubbing at my back.

“Only fitting for you, Princess.” I growled at him and he smirked. “But we’ve got to be quiet, so I’ll fuck you tonight, you can have me as yours tomorrow if you let me fuck you in this twin bed.” I couldn’t say no to that. Having Harry bound on our bed, just waiting for me – sounds like a perfect Sunday to me.

“I’m not going to say no to that, I’ve been itching to put a cock ring on you.” Harry shook his head before his lips took over mine. I reached over to try and turn off the light.

“No, leave it on, I wanna see you.” He spoke before turning us over, so I was on my back. He was undoing my jeans, then his own, then taking off my top, then his own. “I love that you don’t wear a bra, makes it a lot easier for me.” We were both in our underwear. I could see him hard in his, a bit of a stain of pre-cum, as usual, he was always ready.

His mouth found their way to my nipple sucking softly on each nub, then kissing down my torso. Soon he was at my cunt, god this boy loved eating pussy. He had me crying the other day, laid out on the kitchen counter eating at me for what seemed like hours. He loved riling me up with just his tongue, teasing at me with his fingers, his chin would get all wet, he would use his nose to rub at my clit, I was making myself soaked before he’d even started.

“Look at yeh, all wet ‘nd ready for meh,” He was kissing against my thighs. He was pulling apart my legs, teasing me with his tongue through my panties. I had to cover my mouth as he did that, he was too hot. “I like these too much, I might have to fuck you with them on.” He moved my panties aside and started flicking his tongue at my clit before slipping in two fingers, he was slow, he wanted me to loud. Harry reached up and placed his fingers on my chin, I moved my hand and pushed myself into him more, so I could lower myself. I was sucking on his fingers, keeping my mouth busy as he worked at my cunt – which was driving me nuts. Harry moved up and took his fingers out my mouth and licked a long stripe on his hand as his other hand got busy removing his boxers. He would always use his spit as lube, even after we’d spend hours online looking up the best lube – useless. But it was hot, he’d keep eye contact with me while he’d do it. He moved my panties aside as he slid himself inside of me.

He moved his body close to mine. His hands holding my face, yet he kept it somewhat like him – with the fucking panties. “Look at meh,” He sighed as his eyes were looking into mine. He loved eye contact, he loved when I was staring at him when I came, would only let me cum that way. I would quint and squirm, but he needed to look at me. “You’ve got to say quiet for me, Princess, you’ve got to.” He sighed as his hand closed over my mouth. I was biting at my lip, moaning against his hand as he was roughly thrusting into me. I was surprised my bed wasn’t creaking. Harry removed his hand and put his mouth over mine, roughly kissing me as his fingers found my clit. I was biting hard at his bottom lip to suppress a moan. I was getting close, I could tell he was too. My hands found their way to his ass and squeezed tightly at his cheeks making him giggle a bit before moaned into my mouth. “I’m gonna cum in yeh, and you’re gonna sleep with me inside of yeh.” He groaned into my mouth before pressing our lips together. It was only loud from the slaps of our bodies. Everything was getting sloppy, the kisses, his thrusts, I’m gonna have to change these fucking sheets again. I could feel my toes curling and a buzz flowing up my body before I bit at his shoulder blade. His face was buried into the pillow and I could hear him grown. Harry rolled over and out naked bodies tangled together in this twin bed.

“I love fucking my girlfriend of four years.” Harry laughed as I was trying to catch my breath.

“I could get you deported at any time.” I rolled my eyes.

“You’d be in prison, princess.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #tm*#them #WOOOT

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kafeuka · 7 years ago

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[1/1] of random doodles, sweet treats and bubble gum hair

▬ title: of random doodles, sweet treats and bubble gum hair ▬ wordcount: 5585w ▬ pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin ▬ summary: Jimin works at a cafe as a barista and Jungkook's the son of Jimin's boss. Together, they're just two boys in love.

☆ note: this was requested by yunieusagi and it is A SHITLOAD different than the real request, i have to apologize for that. i know it's a lot different than what you had it mind, but i just can't seem to write it??? idk what the fuck's wrong with me and i am really really really sorry for that. i can't believe this took me a lot of time and the end product is... quite... unsatisfactory... but however, enjoy! thank you for requesting and once again, i am so sorry for how it turned out. (๑>ɷ<๑) read on AO3 here. request here.

▬▬▬▬▬▬

Jungkook had a strong urge to yell at his father to piss off and stop intruding with his life (just like any other kid on their rebellious phase) but he really did not want to irritate the man who provide him with food and daily pocket money. Especially not when Jungkook was dying to get himself the latest video game so he could lock himself in his room and boast to his friends how he managed to finish the entire game in one seating.

He entered the café through the backdoor, greeting Somin who was on a break and nodded his head to Yien.

The smell of coffee wafted in the air, making him scrunched his nose delightfully as he took the nearest seat at the counter. While initially he hated the idea of him staying until closing time, he figured he might as well do something productive while he was at it.

In Jungkook’s dictionary, however, productive meant filling his sketchbooks (and textbooks) with doodles and sketches of random things and people.

His father was away for a business meeting and he was given the job to lock the café. He could have lied and given the keys to one of the workers but his dearest father had specifically assigned him to the task. Mingyu once suggested that his father was probably having high hopes that Jungkook would have taken the family business and Jungkook thought it was a crazy idea, but it seemed to make more sense now although Jungkook made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with the café.

Breathing in the scent of coffee, he flipped open his sketchbook and took out a mechanical pencil from the pocket of his hoodie. His mind was as blank as the page of his book, and when the lead touched the paper, he began scrawling and doodling whatever he could. Sometimes he would draw people, at times he would draw animals. Half of his sketchbook was filled with drawings of people; they did not serve him as an inspiration, but rather something for him to work on.

He was not searching for perfection, but just a proof that he could bring an image of them to life.

Jungkook was drawing Minghao from memory – which he totally sucked at (and now Minghao looked like he got ran over by a lorry) – when he felt a presence in front of him. He looked up to find Jimin was smiling at him, small hands gently pushing the ceramic cup towards Jungkook.

Jimin was one of the new workers his father hired recently, the only one in the café he was unfamiliar with and he absolutely had no intention to, as Jimin had bright pink hair that grab everyone’s attention. He swore even trees would turn to look at him if he passed by one.

“Hey. Jungkook, right?” he asked, beaming as if he ate light bulbs for breakfast.

Too bright for Jungkook’s liking.

“Yeah,” he answered, drawing lines on Minghao’s hair.

“Somin told me to make this for you. She said it’s your favourite.”

Jungkook casted a glance at the ceramic cup which was filled with whipped cream drizzled with melted Nutella and topped with tiny marshmallows along with chocolate pocky sticks. Hot chocolate, just for Jungkook, just the way Jeon Jungkook likes it.

“You made it…?” he questioned, sounding sceptical.

The regular hot chocolates were different than Jeon Jungkook’s Hot Chocolate. Unlike the Regular Hot Chocolates for Basic People, Jungkook’s had extra whip cream, extra melted Nutella, extra tiny marshmallows and extra chocolate pocky sticks because he was that extra.

(And also because he was the boss’ son, and he liked all the workers who tried to kiss his ass and pamper him around.)

The bubble gum-haired man nodded, smiling once again.

“Don’t worry, it’s as good as Somin’s. She’s the one who taught me after all.”

“Okay…”

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to your work. You’re taking the university entrance exam this year, yeah? Good luck!” Jimin grinned once again, this time pumping his fist in the air before ruffling Jungkook’s hair and proceeded to work.

Jungkook muttered in annoyance under his breath, fixing his tousled hair.

Jimin was lying when he said it was as good as Somin’s because somehow, it tasted better. Not as sweet as Somin made and Somin’s always extra sweet when she made things.

It only dawned to him that the café was closing down when he heard Yien shouting a ‘bye!’ from the kitchen, exiting through the backdoor. Jungkook groaned, sitting up straight to crack the kink on his neck. He was slouching the whole time he was sketching and he was not proud of the final product. Not at all.

“I’m going home, Kook. Jimin’s still here so don’t lock him in, okay?” Somin sing-songed, patting Jungkook’s shoulder as she passed by. “Bye!” she chirped, waving a hand while the other pushed open the glass door.

“Bye.”

Just as he was about to pack his stuff, he turned to find Jimin was working on something behind the counter by the blender. He let out a sigh, wishing for the young barista to hurry up. From how concentrated Jimin was, Jungkook figured it would take him some time before he could close up the café.

The café was empty except for the two of them. All the tables were cleaned and chairs slotted perfectly on top of them. He was suddenly itching to sketch the empty place. The lights outside were still on, and the book shop across of them still had a few customers inside as they closed an hour later than them.

Jungkook sighed as he scratched his head, not knowing the right words to say to Jimin. He racked his brains to find polite version of ‘hurry the fuck up’ but instead, the only thing he could say was “Uhh…” making him sound like an idiot.

Finally, after struggling internally, he murmured, “Excuse me… but we’re closed now, just so you know.”

“Sorry,” Jimin giggled. He had his back turned to Jungkook, making it difficult for the boss’ son to see what he was up to. “I’m trying this new recipe and thought it’ll be great.”

‘What does that have to do with me?’

“And since Mr. Jeon isn’t here, I think you should try it.”

“Maybe some other—”

“And it’s done!”

Jimin turned to him with a huge grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he presented Jungkook a pink cupcake on a plate, frosted with swirly cream cheese and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Jungkook did not have the heart to tell Jimin that he did not trust any food that had the colour pink in it, specifically because it looked as if it was puked by unicorns and it was just plain weird.

“What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Uh…”

“Cmon, give it a bite! You’ll like it.”

By then, Jimin had taken a seat in front of him, hands on his chin. Jungkook’s plan was to get the hell away from there as fast as his legs could. However, Jimin’s sparkling eyes caged him to stay seated and reluctantly, he reached out for the plate. Jimin batted his eyelashes excitedly, his big smile stretching to his pierced ears.

Jungkook gave him a fake smile, silently praying that he would still live after taking a bite. The cupcake looked wonderful, too wonderful to be true and sometimes, certain things that looked wonderful tend to have bad effects. Like that one game he downloaded last week for example. The previews looked neat, but turned out it was a ripped off of Candy Crush.

After a few moments of hesitating and cursing his father inside his head, he took a small bite and —

“How was it?”

— he took another bite again and again and again.

“Holy shit.” His eyes were wide open, gawking at the half-eaten cupcake.

“What what what?” Jimin bugged, eyes as wide as Jungkook’s as his feet tapped repeatedly on the floor. “Is it bad? Oh god, I knew I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no. This…” Jungkook swallowed. Oh god. “This is good. Jimin, this is the best thing I’ve had today. No, all week!”

A faint pinkness dusted his cheeks, tips of his ears burning red as he grinned again. “You’re flattering me.”

One bite later, Jungkook was only left with the paper cup and pink crumbs. He let out a sigh of content. “That was good.”

“You have something…” Jimin murmured, reaching forward to grab hold of his chin.

Startled, Jungkook stayed frozen in his seat, unable to move with Jimin’s eyes staring intensely at him. Jimin wiped the corner of his lip gently before backing away to his seat and licked the cheese cream clean from his finger.

Jungkook tried to suffocate a flush that was trying to creep on his cheekbones and snorted. “Could’ve just told me, could you.”

Jimin smiled again, this time it reached his eyes, making them curve like half-moons. “Wouldn’t wanna waste it.”

“Freak,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, looking away and pretended to be busy packing his stuff. “I gotta close down the café. Hurry up, will you? I have school tomorrow.”

♡

“Are you saying that, that guy over there,” Khunpimook said, jerking his head towards Jimin’s direction, “Super cute uni guy, flirts with you?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Jungkook gritted his teeth, hitting Khunpimook on his arm.

Khunpimook winced in pain, rubbing on the sore spot whereas Mingyu only let out a chuckle at his friends’ antics. Seokmin came to their table after getting his orders and sighed dreamily, “Jimin is so cute.”

“What,” Jungkook deadpanned.

Mingyu snorted.

Khunpimook sardonically grinned. “Oi, bros don’t steal bros’ hoes.”

“He’s not my hoe. He’s not a hoe!”

“Nobody said anything about him being your hoe, you hoe,” Khunpimook shot back.

“Ooooh,” Seokmin wiggled his eyebrows, giving Jungkook the creepiest smile he had ever witnessed in his eighteen years of living. “Somebody has a crush~”

“That all make sense now! No wonder you’re eager to come here today!” Mingyu clapped his hands together. The others on the table gasped dramatically before smiling creepily at Jungkook.

A humiliated blush climbed up his neck and face, and as he opened his mouth to defend himself, Jimin came towards their table to serve Seokmin his latte.

“Latte for Handsome Guy?”

“That’s me,” Seokmin beamed proudly. “Thanks, Jimin.”

“More like handsome horse,” Mingyu snickered, earning a high five from Khunpimook.

Jungkook gagged internally at how cheesy Seokmin was being. And he gagged even more when Jimin smiled at him, as if he was enjoying all the attention Seokmin was giving him. Mingyu nudged on Jungkook lightly, just as he usually did whenever Jungkook had a crush on someone but it was unnecessary this time because Jungkook totally did not have a crush on Jimin.

No way.

He did not realise he was staring at Jimin until Jimin looked up to him and smiled. The same smile he had given to Seokmin. “Hi, Kookie.”

Khunpimook whipped his head to Jungkook in a speed of lighting, nose flaring and mouth wide open at the nickname Jimin was calling him. Jungkook had to pretend he did not see the ridiculous face Khunpimook was making, afraid that his dumb reaction would have implanted funny ideas inside Jimin’s head. Mingyu, on the other hand, snorted while Seokmin took a sip from his straw as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Jungkook faked a cough to hide his momentary loss of rationality, not looking at Jimin when he replied, “Hey.”

Jimin smiled again before walking back to the counter and as soon as he went away, the boys started to nudge Jungkook and teased him for his red face like the great friends they were.

“Somebody’s in love!” Khunpimook whispered, although Jungkook was certain the elephants in India could have heard him because Khunpimook was not given the ability to lower the volume of his annoying voice.

“Sorry, bro. I will give him up for you,” Seokmin said earnestly with a hand on his chest.

Mingyu chuckled rather loudly. In fact, it was so loud that the couple two seats away from them turned with concerned expressions on their faces.

“Give— give up? What are you talking about?” Jungkook exclaimed, flustered.

“Shut up, Kookie,” Mingyu interjected, imitating Jimin horribly by raising his voice an octave higher and prod his arm with his finger. “We all know what Seokmin’s talking about.”

“Yeah, now I just have to inform the others in the group…” Khunpimook muttered, fingers vigorously typing on the keypad of his phone.

“Oi, OI! DON’T YOU DARE—”

♡

“You seem to be enjoying drawing a lot.”

“Hm?” Jungkook flushed, instantly covering the book with his arms. It was completely useless though, as Jimin had seen his horrid drawings of muscle bunny.

He was sitting in front of Jungkook with his chin resting on one hand, head tilted slightly as he smiled. “Are you applying for art when you’re entering Uni? You’re good at it. Although… I couldn’t really tell what sort of creature that was.”

“It’s Cooky,” he muttered, face scarlet with embarrassment.

The only people who had seen his drawings were his circle of friends and like the jerks they were, they made fun of it. Not that Jungkook really minded, it was not as if he was doing it seriously.

“Cooky…?”

He caught onto his confusion quickly and added, “He has a face of a rabbit and human body.”

Jungkook begged his mouth to stop betraying him. If his friends would not understand what Cooky was, how would Jimin? It was only the third time they ever talked, and they were not on that level of friendship yet (honestly, Jungkook did not want to be friends with Jimin) ((He wanted to be more, but Jungkook did not know that yet)), so why did he felt a little bit excited to talk about his child to Jimin?

Jungkook looked down on his art before closing the book.

A hint of smile glinted at Jimin’s lips, almost as if he found Jungkook to be endearing.

“And no, I’m not going to take art. Father would want me to take business. He knew I hated science.”

“Hm.” Jimin exhaled loudly through his nose, changing his other hand for him to rest his chin on. “Why would you want to take business? No offence to Mr. Jeon, but he’s not the one who’s going to study at the university, isn’t he?”

Jungkook twisted his lips to the sides a bit and slouched. “Father was right… art’s not going to bring me anywhere. Not here, anyway.”

Jimin smiled fondly and Jungkook hated the way he wore the smile on his face. It made his insides turn and his heart beat accelerating painfully as if he was running a marathon. He did not like how hard his heart pounded, how his mind blanked out when Jimin did that.

“You’re wrong. Your father’s wrong too.”

Jungkook was taken aback by his blunt statement, but made nothing to interrupt him.

“You love drawing and I can see that you’re good at it. If you really enjoy it, I think you should go for it. Perhaps you could take it as your minor subject,” Jimin suggested. “Besides, you can earn money by drawing too, you know. My friend’s a webcomic artist, I could ask her for help if you’d like.”

“Really?” He could not contain the excitement in his voice, only for the small light of hope he was holding to disappear completely in the darkness when it dawned to him that he had no time to be horsing around. “That’s nice of you, but I have exams to think about.”

“Yeah, and yet here you are, drawing half-man half-bunny and me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise as he took a sharp intake of breath. After screaming internally, he asked with a shock, “W-what? L-look, no, it’s not—”

Jungkook’s face was as red as the apron he was wearing, trying his hardest to explain but he could only sputter indignantly which gave Jimin a spark of satisfaction as he smirked.

Seeing Jimin sardonically grin made him took a deep breath and berated himself to stop vomiting whatever words he could find inside his brain. Two deep breaths later, he managed to calm himself though his cheeks were still tainted red.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, okay. I drew everyone,” Jungkook explained, ears burned hot. His eyes skipped around the room; everywhere but not Jimin’s eyes. “I tend to draw anyone on my line of sight when I’m bored.”

“Does that mean I should get out of your line of sight then?”

Jungkook sighed exasperatedly, his cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

“I’m just kidding, Kookie. You’re so easily flustered,” Jimin giggled, getting up from his chair. “I was flattered for nothing then…” his voice drowned into a whisper, but Jungkook managed to hear it loud and clear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he chirped. “Let’s go then. It’s almost eleven.”

♡

The one-week Jungkook’s father had been gone, Jungkook learnt a lot of things.

Things like the courses Jimin took in Uni. (He was a math major while his minor was chemistry. Screams hell to Jungkook, to be honest.)

Things like how Jimin preferred strawberry over chocolate. (Jungkook found himself craving for the strawberry cupcake one night he was sketching comic panels about Cooky and Jimin happened to be making a batch on the next day.)

Things like how Jimin’s eyes crinkled at the corner when he smiled. (It was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen.)

He did not mind closing up late if it meant he could spend a little bit more time with Jimin. Being five minutes alone with Jimin would already sufficed. His sketchbooks were filled with pink colours, all which belonged to Jimin’s hair. He was extra careful when drawing Jimin now, often turning onto the next page to pretend he was sketching Cooky whenever Jimin was nearby. Jimin always gave him The Smile as if he knew what Jungkook was hiding.

A part of him hated how easily Jimin made him open himself up. Jungkook was shy to begin with, although he appeared to be stoic during first meetings, but he found himself telling his ideas to Jimin and Jimin was always supporting and assuring Jungkook his ideas mattered. His heart always felt full when Jimin praised him.

Instead of laughing to his face about how ridiculous his ideas of Cooky was, Jimin only smiled endearingly and asked if he could see more sketches of Cooky.

And when Jungkook lied on his bed in the middle of the night, eyes wide awake as he stared at the ceiling and head filled with images of Jimin smiling like the pink-haired angel he was, this was the exact moment when Jungkook realised.

‘Shit, I’m in love.’

♡

“You’re in WHAT?”

“Quiet!” Jungkook hissed, slapping the back of Yugyeom’s neck.

“Son of a bitch, it hurts!” Yugyeom whined, rubbing the wounded area before punching Jungkook on his arm.

“That’s what you get for being loud!”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes in annoyance and winced. “Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at Jungkook before grinning and nudging his best friend playfully. “So, it was true, huh? What Khunpimook said in the group?”

“That was not true. Jimin was certainly not my—”

“You and Seokmin should fight to the death for Jimin’s honour.”

“Kim Yugyeom,” Jungkook sighed, stopping to place a hand on Yugyeom’s shoulder dramatically. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Yugyeom shrugged his hand off his shoulder. “What do you plan to do then? Just watch him creepily from afar like the King of Creep Land you are?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook whispered in defeat. “What do people do with their feelings? Puke their feelings out and flush them down the toilets?”

“If it was that easy, Mingyu would have been over Jeonghan now,” Yugyeom murmured.

“Unhelpful, Kim Yugyeom.”

“As if you have better ideas.”

“I think… I think I actually do.”

Jungkook had never spent so much time and effort doing something before in his whole life. The pocket money he received from his father was spent on high quality pens now rather than the video game he was dreading to play.

Each stroke was perfectly thought of, and he was careful when choosing the colours.

It might seem stupid but he thought it will be worth it.

It had to be.

♡

Jimin’s shift started a little later after six as his class ended around five. He greeted their regulars with the same smile and enthusiasm, and occasionally he glanced to the seat near to the counter to find it was empty. It had been days since Mr. Jeon arrived from his trip which meant it was unnecessary for Jungkook to be there as he was not in charge with closing down the café anymore.

Still, Jimin hoped Jungkook would stop by to say hi. Sometimes he would come by during lunch with his funny group of friends, but Jimin would be in Uni then. He gathered this information from Somin, who was more than glad to share anything Jungkook related to Jimin. He could not stand the teasing, but Somin might be right on this: he did like Jungkook.

(“He’s a kid, Somin,” Jimin protested with a pout.

“He’s eighteen, Jimin,” Somin countered back with an eyeroll. “Besides, he’ll be your junior in Uni next year.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yeah? Then give my boy some love. I think he likes you too.”

“Somin!”)

Jimin turned red at the memory of Somin insisting that Jungkook liked him too. At the start, Jimin just wanted to be on the boss’ son good side but their little talks got a little bit more interesting as time passed by and Jungkook always made him smile more than he was supposed to. He loved Jungkook’s creativity, how he wanted to make another world of half-men and half-bunnies and he absolutely, terribly, deeply in love with how concentrated and serious Jungkook was when it comes to drawing.

Jimin was brought back to reality when he heard a familiar yet small “hi”. He turned to find Jungkook was in front of him, hands fiddling with what seemed like a new sketchbook. He would be lying if he said his world did not brighten up even the slightest.

(Because it did. Jungkook always made his day better.)

“Hey,” he said, a little too excited. He cleared his throat in an attempt to tone down his excitement and repeated, lowering his voice down a little, “Hey.”

“Uh, well, I-I’ll have the usual,” he stammered.

“Alright,” Jimin chirped. “Long time no see, Kookie.”

“I know, haha, I’ve been so busy.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Can’t drop by to say hi?”

For some unexplainable reason, Jungkook choked on air and struggled to let the words out of his mouth. Jimin chuckled, shaking his head at how flustered Jungkook became. “You know I was joking, right. You’re busy, I get it. I’ll get you your drink in a sec.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook murmured.

Just as he grabbed the ceramic cup, Somin came to poke Jimin on his side and squealed. “So, what did he say? Did he say he love your eyes or your beautiful smile? I always knew Jungkook was a romantic! That boy may look like a stone, but he’s cheesier than cheese. If that makes any sense.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, huffing. “No. He just came by to draw again, I think.”

“Draw you, you meant?”

“It was only one time, Somin. He only drew me once, I’m pretty sure he draws you too.”

“He does, actually. He draws everyone. I think that’s just creepy,” Somin shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cute.”

“Love makes us blind,” Somin sighed dramatically.

“I’m not—”

Somin cut his sentence of with feign enthusiastic “Talk to you later!” as she skipped to the register to take a customer’s order.

When Jimin brought Jungkook’s hot chocolate to him, the boy appeared restless. His foot was tapping vehemently while he was staring intensely on the cover of the notebook. He almost jumped in surprise when Jimin placed his drink on his table, making Jimin almost felt sorry for startling him like that.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, uh, Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook glanced at the wall clock and murmured, “I… I wanna talk to you.”

Jimin was bewildered at Jungkook’s sudden change of behaviour. It was always Jimin who approached Jungkook first, who struggled to make a conversation because Jungkook always replied with a word or two. He was elated that it was Jungkook who wanted to interact this time.

“Sure,” Jimin conceded, glimpsing on his wrist watch. Ten minutes until closing time. “Ten minutes, alright? I gotta work.”

“Okay.”

It was the longest ten minutes of Park Jimin’s life.

He was excited and scared at the same time of what to come. From his observation (aka stealing glimpses of Jungkook through the break room’s window), Jungkook was only drinking his hot chocolate rather than drawing. He seemed to be staring at the clock a lot too.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jimin muttered to himself, excitement surging through his veins when it was only one more minute until ten.

What was Jungkook going to say? He could not come up with a reason to assure himself that it was nothing serious but from Jungkook’s nervous expression, Jimin’s head can only conjure the worst-case scenarios possible.

What if Jungkook chose to drop out of college because of Jimin’s talk? He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. Now, he was going to get fired for causing the drop out of Mr. Jeon’s son and he would have to find another part time job.

Or what if it was even more serious than dropping out? Maybe Jungkook wanted to run away to become a cartoonist and wanted Jimin’s help to find somewhere to live.

Or what if Jungkook had a terminal illness —

His freaking out session was interrupted when his watch gave a little noise, signalling it was already ten. He glimpsed through the window to see Jungkook was still there.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself. “I’m going to ruin his and my life.”

“What the fuck are you muttering to yourself about?” Chanyeol interjected.

“Nothing,” Jimin answered, a little too quick that it raised suspicion and Chanyeol’s eyebrow. Chanyeol focused his gaze to where Jimin was staring and his lips quirked into a smile.

“Ooh, I see now. Go get it, lover boy.”

“Shut the fuck up, no one’s getting anything tonight.”

“Well, I do. I’m gonna get fucking la—”

“I don’t wanna know.”

Anxious? Totally.

Scared? To the very.

While Jimin preferred for them to be talking alone, he felt relief that there were still customers around.

With shaky fingers, he pulled the chair and sat in front of Jungkook. “Hey.”

“H-hey.”

Jimin cleared his throat, shifting in his chair and hoped his nervousness was not evident when he said, “So… what do you wanna talk about?”

Jungkook sniffed, staring at his fingernails when he spoke.

“As you know, I’m terribly bad at expressing myself with words.”

Oh my god.

“So, I hope this would be enough,” Jungkook murmured, sliding the sketchbook to Jimin.

Jimin scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, slowly looking up to Jungkook only for to Jungkook look away when their eyes met. The cover of the sketchbook was dark blue, different from the usual black one Jungkook brought.

He was hesitant at first and when he turned to the first page, the worries dissipated into thin air.

Jimin’s eyes grew bigger, fingertips grazing lightly against the paper. On top of the page was written ‘First Night’ with a date written in smaller size underneath it. Jimin did not know what it was at first until his eyes travelled south to see four comic panels drawn by Jungkook.

The first panel was a drawing of the first hot chocolate Jimin made him. The text box next to it read:

Jimin snickered, not daring to look up to Jungkook. The next panel was a drawing of the strawberry cupcake Jimin made for him with a lot of tiny little red hearts surrounding it. Jimin could not help but cracked a smile at the adorable drawing.

He moved to the next panel which had a drawing of both of them sitting on the table. Jimin took his time admiring it, he knew Jungkook spent a lot of time trying to perfect it. He captured the colour of Jimin’s hair perfectly, although he exaggerated a little by drawing sparkles and flowers next to Jimin’s face.

Jimin could feel his cheeks heating up when he read it. He was not sure how he could look up to Jungkook now. In his defence, Jimin did not flirt, never did anyways, not to Jungkook. “That incident” Jungkook was referring to had to be that time Jimin wiped the frosting off Jungkook’s lip – he swore it was accidental, that it was just his reflex. He had no idea it had such an effect on Jungkook.

The last panel had a sketch of Jimin smiling. It made Jimin’s heart all warm and as Taylor Swift said it, all he felt “in his stomach was butterflies”.

His finger lingered on the drawing of him longer than it should and just as he was about to look up to Jungkook to say a few words, Jungkook panicked. “That’s not the end! Turn! Turn to the next page… please…” his voice drowned into a whisper and he coughed to mask his embarrassment.

Jimin could feel his heart on his throat and jaw dropped in amazement when he revealed the next page. The top panel was a drawing of Jungkook being flustered with two think bubbles drawn on top of his head. The first think bubble had a doodle of small building labelled ‘uni’ while the next think bubble had a doodle of pencil.

Jimin was smiling so much that it began to hurt but he did not care.

The bottom panel was much bigger than any of the panels Jungkook created. It was a drawing of Jimin’s backside view. This had to be Jimin’s favourite because of the radiant colours and little glitters Jungkook added to the pages; it was different than the others as this one had longer texts on the text box situated on the left corner of the panel.

“Wow… Kookie… I…” Jimin murmured, reading the words over and over again. He gulped and blinked to clear the mistiness from his eyes. To say he was touched would be understatement because the drawings were beautiful, the drawings of Jimin were wonderful and it dawned to him that this was how Jungkook saw him.

The next page had a doodle of Jungkook making a heart shape using his hands and the text below said:

“Holy shit,” Jimin muttered, bewilderment was evident on his face. He looked at Jungkook, whose face was scarlet in embarrassment.

Jungkook had to force himself to look at Jimin straight into his eyes, determined to make Jimin know how sincere he was. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “I like you, Jimin.”

“J-Jungkook—”

“It’s okay if you can’t return my feelings. Just as a reminder, I am Mr. Jeon’s son, which meant I can come here whenever I please until you like me back—”

Jimin erupted into fits of giggles, his crescent eyes appearing as his body vibrated.

“— I’m serious,” Jungkook exclaimed with a pout, face turning even redder than before.

At this, his giggles turned into laughter. Jungkook pouted, crossing his arms together.

“Are you done?” Jungkook asked scathingly as he watched Jimin wiping a tear away from his eye.

“You don’t- you don’t have to make me like you just because you like me.”

Jungkook frowned.

“The feeling’s mutual, dummy.”

Jungkook’s mouth dropped to the floor. His brain chose to repeat Jimin’s sentence over and over again and when he finally registered it, he clamped his huge mouth shut. “Oh.”

“Mmhm.”

“Oh. Uh. Really?”

“Really.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I like like you. Are you sure you like like me too?” Jungkook asked slowly, emphasizing the like.

Jimin let out an exasperated sigh. “I do.”

“So…” Jungkook murmured, daring to look abashed as he scratched his nape. “Are we boyfriends now or…?”

Jimin giggled. “Sure, if that’s what you wanna call me.”

“You do know that means you’re mine right? Like, really mine. You can’t smile to Seokmin anymore, he always has the hots for you. No smiling at the customers either, that one regular was always eying you whenever she’s here. She’s so creepy, ugh—”

“As if you’re not staring at me either.”

“Oi.”

“I’m joking, chill!”

“What have I gotten myself into…” he sighed, staring helplessly at Jimin. Jimin only gave him a smile.

“Somin was right.”

“About what?”

“You’re cheesier than cheese.”

“What the fuck does that even mean…”

♡

“Damn it, I really wanna see what’s inside that book!” Somin grumbled, tiptoeing to peek at Jungkook and Jimin through the glass on the break room.

“You’re such a weirdo, Somin. I should’ve called the police,” Chanyeol muttered.

“Is it okay for us to stare at them like this?” Yoonji fretted.

“Shut u— LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY THEY CAUGHT US STARING.”

#busanboysnet #jikook #kookmin #jikook fanfic #kookmin fanfic #kfk:oneshot

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welcometophu · 8 years ago

Text

Denouement 3

Twinned Book 1: Commit to the Kick

Denouement 3

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“There’s nothing I can do, Dax.” Alaric spreads his hands, tries to keep the gruff growl from his voice. “Pushing the shadowwalker to talk wasn’t helping us. Leaving it with Theobald will hopefully stop a war. I can’t be there until finals are over, and Theobald won’t let the Mages stay to do anything.”

“I get that.” Dax pushes fingers through hair that’s grown out, curly and scruffy. He huffs, rubs a hand across his face. He’s scruffy all over, like he just doesn’t care, although Alaric can tell that the beard has been trimmed down to the one small spot on his chin. “I get it, but it’s not enough, not yet. I can still feel—” He cuts off, motions at his temple. “Orson’s not satisfied.”

“Orson was like that.” Alaric shifts slightly, arms crossed. When Chris nudges closer, Alaric takes his weight against his shoulder, relaxes slowly at the touch.

“Is it possible that Orson doesn’t think this stopped the war?” Chris asks.

“He’s dead, Chris,” Dax snaps. He makes a face. “Fuck, sorry. I don’t think he knows any more than we do. He’s dead. This is just what’s keeping him here so yeah, he doesn’t think we stopped the war, for whatever reason. He’s not satisfied. The thing is, maybe you did. Maybe bringing the shadowwalker out to Haverhill fixed things. Or maybe it didn’t. Or maybe there’ll be a war three years down the road. We don’t know. And until there’s something that’s enough to satisfy Orson, I’m stuck with him in the back of my head. It’s making it hard to go home and not try to stick around Alaric and protect him.”

“Go home when your finals are done,” Chris says quietly.

Dax scowls, presses fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea what this feels like.”

“I don’t,” Chris admits.

“Visit me over break.” Alaric shrugs at the look they both give him. “I’m going home. It’ll make my mom happy, and my father is going to have to deal with the friends I have visit. Rory’s coming. I’m going up to Vermont at some point. Chris—” He stops abruptly.

“If you want me to visit, Theobald doesn’t scare me.”

“Lie,” Alaric says, and Chris doesn’t deny it. “But if you want to visit, I’d like it. So Dax, come out there over break. Talk to Orson again. See me and Drea and Corbin, talk to my mom, see that we’re all safe. Maybe it’ll help get him out of your head.”

“Maybe.” Dax’s expression is dubious as he rubs at his forehead. “Right now it’s distracting, and I have my first exam tomorrow morning. I’m going to Maxwell to meet up with my Orgo study group. I have a blanket in my backpack. I’m napping there if they don’t kick us out.”

“If you want to go back to the room, I’m sleeping tonight. I have a project due tomorrow by midnight,” Chris says. “And my major project isn’t due until Friday. I’m just going to work here for now.”

Alaric pulls open the door to Douglass, motions Chris inside as Dax heads for Maxwell. “I’m not going to be much company,” Alaric mutters. “Rory’s got Coven, though, so it’s quiet.”

“I have a paper due tomorrow, and so do you,” Chris says easily. “I’m not looking for conversation, just a quiet space where I can work. I find it easier to do when there’s someone else in the room.”

Alaric knocks into him on the way up the stairs. “You like being around people.”

“Don’t need a puppy pile, but yeah,” Chris admits. “It feels better. And you’re decent people to be around.”

It’s a thought that warms Alaric, like Chris is Clan. Someone inside his inner circle, someone that makes him comfortable as well. He nods once, pushes open the door.

It takes some time to find a method that works for them. They both end up on Alaric’s bed, high above the floor, leaning against the wall shoulder to shoulder. Chris’s foot hooks over Alaric’s ankle, a comfortable, hot weight. Alaric’s focus is on the laptop balanced on his knees, while Chris sifts through notes, searching for information more than he types.

Alaric manages to lose himself in the paper, working his way through the final topic for Magical Studies. When the door to the room opens, he jerks out of the fugue, elbowing Chris in the side.

Rory blinks at them. “Oh. Hey. Sorry. Am I interrupting?”

Alaric lifts the laptop. “Working on my paper for Pawel. Chris is doing some art history thing.”

“This is Psych,” Chris mumbles. “Art History isn’t due until Friday.” He reaches for a paper that’s fallen on the other side of Alaric, pulling it back and making notes in a file on his laptop. “Almost at the point where I can start writing it.” He glances up when they’re silent, blinks. “Okay, so sometimes I procrastinate.” He rolls his eyes, gets back to work.

There’s a sour scent in the air. Rory shrugs out of his jacket, tosses it over Alaric’s on the chair. He rubs at his wrist, looks around until his gaze falls on the guitar on its stand. Rory takes the guitar and climbs onto his own bed, sitting cross-legged as he picks at chords that jangle against Alaric’s senses.

“What’s wrong?” Alaric asks quietly.

“Just the ritual tonight didn’t do what we thought it would.” Rory shrugs one shoulder. “We put a lot of energy into it. Volunteers only from Coven, and we were the only ones there. Tonight would’ve been optional, anyway. Last week was our last real meeting.” He glances up from under the long fall of hair across his face. “Nik was there. She’s looking better. Said she’s got her first Psych exam at noon tomorrow.”

The idea of a ritual gone wrong makes Alaric’s skin itch, but the stink of Rory’s skin makes it worse. “What went wrong?”

“Don’t know.” Rory strums a minor chord. “It was this ritual that Pawel worked out with Ángel and Hayley, and it seemed like it was going to be really simple. The hardest part was the energy needed, and that I had to give energy instead of nullifying it. But when we were done, it didn’t work.”

Alaric has no idea who Ángel and Hayley are, but he figures that’s not important to the story. “It bothers you,” he says, and the next chord twangs painfully.

“Yeah,” Rory says quietly. “It bothers me. They were really disappointed. This was the kind of thing they were looking forward to. Kind of like… imagine being engaged for two years and then the wedding just doesn’t happen.”

Alaric shakes his head. “Not a great analogy.”

Chris snorts.

“The point is, it was something they’d been looking forward to for a long time, that was incredibly important, and it didn’t work.” The sounds from the guitar remain discordant, pinging against Alaric’s eardrums. Rory’s fingers slow, stop. He inhales slowly, closes his eyes. “If I play something that doesn’t sound like shit, will it bother you?”

Chris waves a hand, and Alaric shakes his head. “’S’good,” Alaric mutters.

Alaric gets a page written and whatever Rory’s working on is starting to sound more like a song by the time Chris finally sets his laptop aside. “Did you say Nikita was there?” he asks.

Rory glances up. “Yeah. She’s doing okay now. The Dreamwalker worked with her; said she raised a daughter who showed the Talent. She doesn’t think Nik’s a Dreamwalker, but it’s close enough that whatever they did means Nik hasn’t had nightmares since.”

Alaric’s phone buzzes. He lifts it, expecting it to be Drea, but his mother’s message pops up instead: The shadow is gone.

Rory laughs a little, strums. “I think Nik’s more excited that Jennifer moved out Sunday night, before the study days really got started. As soon as she turned in her last paper, she was gone. Nik’s done by Friday, Pels still has another final next week.”

Alaric’s still staring at the phone, fingers hovering over the screen. His mother’s message feels like an accusation, and his stomach clenches. He types back slowly: Dad?

“Ric?” Chris leans into him.

“Shadow’s gone.” Alaric forces himself to breathe evenly, one breath at a time, until the response comes back and he can inhale fully again. “My father’s okay.” He reads each messages as it comes in, translates for Chris and Rory. “Mom says it’s like it was never there. My father still says the Bertram place is fouled, warned everyone away from it. Mom thinks it’s been gone for a day, maybe, and he didn’t say anything until she went out there, found him sitting in the room alone.”

“At least nothing happened to your father.” Rory’s scent thickens again, sour and dark. “We knew this could happen. Pawel left a lot of residual energy there, but it couldn’t hold the shadow forever.”

“I honestly thought he’d kill it,” Alaric mutters. Chris rests a hand across the nape of his neck, and Alaric leans into the pressure. “I thought he’d kill it instead of keeping it and trying to talk to it. Or it’d try to kill him. Or he’d let the community tear it apart. Didn’t figure it’d last long enough to escape.”

“I’ll let Pawel know.” Rory slides off the bed, puts the guitar back on its stand. He pulls open the door, stops when he sees Nikita standing on the other side, her hand raised to knock.

“You could text him,” Chris says, and Rory ducks his head, pulling back into the room and giving Nikita room to come in.

“Alaric,” Nikita calls out, pausing when she sees Chris. She cocks her head. “Perfect. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You’re going to ask anyway.” Alaric knows this by now, even after only one semester living on the same floor with her.

“You don’t have to answer, even if I ask,” Nikita points out. “I was just wondering—how did you come out to your families? I’m thinking of coming out to mine and I’m not sure how they’ll take it. So advice might be nice.”

“Haven’t.” Alaric isn’t even sure what he needs to tell them more—that he’s gay, or that he can become a dragon. “Don’t think I’m going to bother. They’ll figure it out or they won’t, and I don’t really give a fuck what my father thinks.”

Nikita edges closer. “He won’t cut you off, will he?”

“Do you think your parents will cut you off?” Chris sets his laptop aside, slides to the edge of the bed so his legs hang over and he can look down. “You don’t have to come out to anyone, Nik, not even your parents.”

“They won’t cut me off.” Nikita shrugs. “It’s just that since Tammy had the baby, Mom’s all about asking me when I’m going to meet a nice guy so I can get married, have babies after college, settle down like Tammy did. And I keep getting the urge to tell her that it’s not guys I go for.”

“They aren’t very open-minded?” Rory asks, his thumbs moving across the keyboard of his phone. “Mine never really assumed anything, but then, I have one mom and two dads, so our house was pretty much ready for anything. Which is good, considering they ended up with me and Thorne.”

“I told mine when I was a senior in high school,” Chris says. “I was scared to tell my dad before that. I knew he loved me—I knew that wouldn’t change—but there’s this whole image in football, and well, I’m black. There are a lot of stereotypical expectations and even though I trusted my parents not to push me out for not fitting that, it was still terrifying.”

“What made you decide to come out?” Nikita asks.

Chris laughs dryly. “Locker room talk. This guy joined the team and he was out and everyone knew it. And there were a few guys giving him shit, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. They tried saying some bullshit about how being gay makes a guy weak. Pete wasn’t weak; he was a damned good kicker, and he could outsprint most of the guys on the team. They were just looking for some reason to put him down.

“I didn’t want to start a fight, so I got together with my co-captain and we came up with a plan. Then I had to present it to my coach, and before that, I wanted to tell my parents. Because if the team was going to know, I wanted them to know first.”

“How’d it go?”

“Fine,” Chris admits. “Maybe I’m lucky, but my family was fine with it. One of my brothers just said that he figured one of us had to be—and the youngest one talked to me privately about a week later because he thinks maybe he’s bi. He’s still figuring it out. But I just did it over dinner one night—please pass the potatoes, oh by the way, I’m gay and I’m coming out to the team tomorrow so we can stop the bullying.”

“Seriously?” Nikita laughs, the sound louder when Chris nods.

“Hey.” The door nudges open, TJ poking his head in. “Quiet time in ten minutes, right after primal scream. Time for guests to get out.”

“You could come study at OPT if you want?” Chris offers as he pulls his stuff together.

Alaric glances at Rory, not sure he wants to leave his roommate on his own. Rory’s still distracted by his phone, tapping away at his messages, and while his scent has eased, it’s not quite right. “I think I’m staying here tonight,” Alaric says. “Rory?”

Rory blinks at him. “I’d appreciate that,” he says quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind,” Alaric tells him. “‘M’just gonna walk Chris out and go scream, okay?”

Rory winces. “Yeah, don’t do that in here. You were leaning out the window last night and it was still loud enough to hurt my ears.”

“Not a fan of primal scream,” Alaric murmurs as he follows Chris out. Nikita’s slipping into her own room, and Alaric can hear TJ in the distance talking to Pat and Jackson over the sound of their music. “I like it. Get to lose control.”

Chris smirks. “Yeah. You like that.”

There’s heat under his skin, warm and rosy. Alaric ducks his head, glances back to see Chris at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him. “Yeah,” Alaric says softly.

Chris crowds him as soon as he gets to the bottom, pushes him back against the wall before he kisses him. Alaric groans softly, opens his mouth under Chris’s. When he gets a hand on Chris’s shoulder, fingers wrap around his wrist, holding tightly as Chris grips the nape of Alaric’s neck.

It’s better than the primal scream.

Chris pulls back, rotates them so someone can pass by them and head upstairs. Alaric licks his lips, stares at Chris with his body aching.

“Take care of Rory,” Chris says quietly. He leans into him again, heavy and warm against Alaric’s body. A slow kiss this time, lingering before Chris speaks again. “Dax is going home Friday,” he says quietly. “He’s coming back Saturday for the concert, but he’s not in the room Friday.”

“I’m done Friday. Not going home until Monday, when Drea’s done.” Alaric licks his lips, thinks about what Chris has said. What he’s offering.

“Finish your finals,” Chris tells him. “Focus on that. Get through the paper, the exams, and on Friday, we’ll get Chinese food and watch movies. Okay?”

It sounds like a date.

It also sounds like what they’ve been doing all fucking semester.

“Minissales,” Alaric counters. “‘M’paying.”

“Fine, you pay. I pick the movies.” Chris kisses him again, hard and fast and brutal enough to leave Alaric breathless and hungry. “Come on. Let’s go scream and I’m going to get out of here.”

As Alaric steps out of the building, he can hear windows being thrown open, doors being pushed wide. It’s as if the campus collectively draws a breath, and lets it out at once, in a blood-curdling shriek. Alaric joins in, howling while Chris screams, and it feels good to stand side-by-side and just let go.

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #commit to the kick #phu twinned #twinned #cttk denouement

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mynameistori · 7 years ago

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entry 3 (aug 21)

Hello~

Continuing along with 1 post every 5 ish days (just a weird trend I’ve noticed; I write randomly), here’s the entry I’ve been meaning to write about since it happened -- the night with Pretty Boy. I was debating between this and writing about Balloon Boy, but I think these words were itching to be typed out just a bit more. Who doesn’t like some spice over a shit ton of fragmented angst? Well I guess this story gets a little angsty at the end… Disclaimer: This is more of a recollection about the events that happened that night, and less about my relationship (friendship) with Pretty Boy. I’ll talk about that timeline in another entry.

Though he doesn’t remember much about that night, I actually remember quite a lot though the middle gets kind of fuzzy. Pretty Boy had finished his exams that day, so he, Sk8ter Boi (AHAHA I’m so sorry if this identity ever gets out), and I wanted to have a celebratory drink session. My penthouse apartment has a terrace on the second floor, so that’s where we decided to drink. We didn’t have that much alcohol, but we had some hard alcohol - tequila (two small bottles), vodka (one small bottle), and soju (about half a bottle). I brought a speaker upstairs, and we played some music to dance to as we mixed drinks for each other.

I got drunk within the first hour and threw up the first time about two hours in (I’m not that lightweight and have only vomited once prior so this surprised me). I remember Pretty Boy catching me in the kitchen and washing away what had gotten caught in the drain. He asked if I was okay and told me that he didn’t want me drinking any more that night. We went back upstairs and told Sk8ter Boi that I was being cut off. We continued to dance and chat, and I learned that Sk8ter Boi had a crush on another member of our dance group (I didn’t define this in entry 1 so let’s formally define it as KPC - kpop dance club), Tol Bun (who is actually someone I’d swing the other way for). Pretty Boy already knew about the situation and how insecure Sk8ter Boi felt about Tol Bun, but after reading some of their chat, I agreed with Pretty Boy’s opinion on the whole thing and told him that it didn’t look like she was disinterested and to just go for it.

The second time I felt like throwing up, I remember waiting in front of the sink for a while. Eventually Pretty Boy came downstairs and of course my stomach finally decided that it wanted to spew out some alcohol. I remember telling/pleading/arguing with Pretty Boy to go back upstairs or to (because who wants to vomit in front of a cute boy let’s be real) and him refusing to do either. I think the last thing I told him was to please turn around, and he either did that or covered his eyes with his hands, I can’t quite recall. After that, he asked me if I was okay and I told him I hated him (for not giving me any privacy) as I pulled him into a hug. The most skinship I had ever given him before this was hair ruffling and contouring his face for a dance cover, so I wonder what was running through his mind as I did that, with his likely-sober-than-mine mind.

I went back and forth between the terrace and main floor a couple more times after that, a few times for the washroom or my bedroom and once more for the kitchen sink. I remember Pretty Boy following me down a few times, and me asking him if he was following me, and him replying “do you think you’re going to go downstairs without me noticing” or something along those lines. I simultaneously liked and disliked what he was doing -- I didn’t want him catching me the next time I needed to throw up, but I also haven’t had anyone care for me in that way before so it was very heartwarming. Some time after that, I threw up a third time without him catching me. :)

I remember Pretty Boy telling me to go to sleep around 1 am. I had work the next morning at 7:30, which meant I had to get up at 6:30 (yes I still agreed to drink and accept the consequences), so sleeping while I could was the best choice. So I sat at the foot of my bed and wrapped my sheets around my body. Some time after, Pretty Boy told me that our other friend West Coast Wonder had arrived, and that I should sleep despite how much I wanted to go up and say hello. He asked me for my phone and set my alarm for me, and went back up to check on the others.

He came to my room multiple times after that, I don’t remember why. By then, I was feeling extremely cold, so I kept telling him to not leave me. He always did though, and eventually he told me that the others were leaving and that he was going to walk Sk8ter Boi home. I told him to come back afterwards, and I think he said goodnight. He closed my door and few moments after I heard the suite door close, and my heart sank in my chest.

I messaged him some time later, thanking him for taking care of me and telling him goodnight as well. A couple of minutes after that, he told me he dropped Sk8ter Boi off and asked if I still wanted him to come over. I told him “of course”. At this point, I was about 3/10 drunk as opposed to the 10/10 drunk I was before, so I told him to hurry up and I’d wait for him in the lobby while dancing BOSS (by NCT U). He eventually showed up and we made our way back to my bedroom.

I remember Pretty Boy looking at my lips and leaning in, like a movie or drama. I let him kiss me, and we proceeded to make out for the majority of the next two hours, among other things. His hands roamed all over my body, and we kept shifting positions. Sometimes I’d be straddling him, or curled into his side with my head on his chest and leg over his body, or being a little spoon, or he’d be on top of me. He asked me if I normally slept with a bra on, and I told him no. He then unclipped it with ease, and I took it off, putting it in the corner of my bed with my stuffed animals. He also attempted to pull down my shorts multiple times, but I always stopped him. I think I wouldn’t have minded so much if I wasn’t in the process coming off my period that night, but I also had worries about how it would affect our relationship in the long run. It would definitely complicate a lot of things (to be shed light on in a future entry, as stated before) and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this two nights before he was supposed to move out of Waterloo and I wouldn’t see him until January. So I kept telling him, “maybe when you come back from SF.” At some other point during the night he asked me, “why do you always wear my clothes?” and I think I told him something along the lines of “pink is pretty” but I really wanted to say something like “because it reminds me of you”. In hindsight, I probably should’ve said “because I like you” since he doesn’t remember much anyway (more on me taking his things another time).

I think I treated him as if he was my boyfriend that night though the most I did was unbutton his shirt a little, focus on his very sensitive neck, and leave a hickey on his chest. It was hard to think of anything in a platonic way because I already had a crush on him and though very intoxicated, he was acting the way I had always wanted my boyfriend to be - slightly dominating and very touchy/intimate. He smacked the back of my thigh at one point and called me babe some other time, and I wanted to make him mine so badly. But my sobriety and loyalty stopped me. Not even a pretty boy who couldn’t stop saying my name would cause me to betray a friend so badly. I remember telling him I didn’t want to fall asleep because I didn’t want this to end and for him to leave. He said that I’d see him later that day. We went to sleep at 5:30 am or so, and I went in between being awake and asleep for most of it. I woke up before my alarm and turned it off so I wouldn’t disturb Pretty Boy, who was sound asleep.

Before I left for work, I wrote a note for Pretty Boy and left on top of his phone. I told him when I’d be done work and which fridge shelf was mine in case he wanted to eat something before I got home. I would also bring food home if he was still there by then. I didn’t want to leave, because I knew that the dream I was living would disappear the moment I stepped through that door. But I had a responsibility to fulfill, so I left.

At work, I felt shitty. I felt mildly queasy at times, and my throat was extremely shot. Sometimes I would lose focus and feel lightheaded for a few seconds, but luckily there was only me and my favourite coworker, Korean Baerista, at the front. Thankfully, she loves working cash and I love working bar, so my throat wouldn’t have to suffer too much. Obviously I worked a little slower than usual but with exam season pretty much over we didn’t have a lot of customers. Throughout my shift my mind kept going to Pretty Boy and wondering if he was still sleeping. I wanted him to still be there when I got back home, so I kept looking to the clock and wished for time to pass by faster.

I wanted to catch the next bus so badly I actually forgot my jade bracelet in my work locker. When I remembered later that day at about 3 or 4 pm, I decided against walking all the way to campus just to get it. Little did I know that I wouldn’t be getting it for about another two weeks (I actually still don’t have it -- I’m heading back to Waterloo tomorrow). I forgot that it was a Friday, and the locker area is only open from 8 am to 5 pm on weekdays. To stack more against me, I would be heading home the next day (Saturday) and I’d find out from Korean Baerista about a week later that I didn’t have any shifts for the rest of the summer (thanks supervisor, I didn’t make vacation plans just for you) so I wouldn’t need to return to Waterloo earlier.

When I got home and opened my bedroom door, he wasn’t there. I kind of expected it, but it honestly felt somewhat like a one night stand and I could feel my heart breaking because I let myself get too attached. He didn’t even leave me a message, so I decided to thank him for making my bed (I don’t normally make my bed). He didn’t message me for a while, and I would later find out that he actually felt really sick and ended up having a panic attack because of it and went to a clinic. I wished he would’ve told me about that. I waited for him to come to KDC’s usual hangout spot despite how tired and sick I was (I tried sleeping after work but couldn’t partially because my heart rate was elevated enough to cause me discomfort) because I believed that we would see each other that day.

We did end up seeing each other later that night, but only for a very short time. He had asked me to return his windbreaker because it was actually his friend’s (Mr. Off-White, which is what I actually call him because I don’t know who he is) and he would be dropping by to pick it up that night. He really wanted to drop by the KDC hangout to say bye to everyone before he left the next day, but he was too exhausted. So I offered to drop it off at his place, and he eventually accepted. I asked for another jacket of his in exchange though, so I’d have something of his while he was away. As I waited for him in the lobby, one of my a cappella friends (Melodica) who lived across the street spotted me and asked if I wanted to come over (super random, I know but they’re a friendly bunch -- I also had a crush on Melodica for a short while). Pretty Boy showed up after that though, and he handed me back my jacket (I wanted to trade it for Mr. Off-White’s windbreaker) as well as the jacket I asked him for. I asked if he was okay, and I kept asking him if he was sure. Melodica decided to say bye at this point (sorry Melodica >_<) and I said farewell to him. I asked Pretty Boy if he needed any help packing. He said no and that he wanted to go back up to lie down because he was exhausted. I already knew that it would be the last time I’d see him, but I let him go anyway. He wasn’t mine. I couldn’t worry about him too much.

He later told his mother about going to the clinic and how sick he felt and he ended up going back home later that night. He’d move out some other day. Our conversation level/dynamic after that and even now is a bit different, and he even forgot about my conversation once for 3 days. I ended up messaging him, “forgotten or avoiding? I won’t resent you either way”. He also trolls me a lot more now, and me being the serious person I am, don’t usually take jokes very well. I don’t know what to do about it.

For me, that Saturday was an extremely difficult day. I had no motivation to eat anything though I felt hungry. I took my time packing up some stuff to bring home with me, and when I had finished about 3 hours later, it was extremely hard for me to leave the apartment. I honestly felt like I was going through a break up because of how empty I was and how much I longed for someone else’s touch. I eventually left to get McDonald’s before leaving for home. Luckily my family wouldn’t be home until the next day, so I had time to compose myself.

Sorry for the massive post. I’m still trying to get over Pretty Boy and hopefully by the time he’s back, I’ll be able to face him as if nothing happened so he can maybe get with my friend NomNomCutie who likes him a lot (insert scream of frustration and depressing sigh).

tori

#entry 3 #Pretty Boy #Sk8ter Boi #Tol Bun #Korean Baerista #Melodica #NomNomCutie #West Coast Wonder #Mr. Off-White

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