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#2 years normal couples usually sleep together way before then...... and light was like. LOUD SIGH. ok
infizero · 8 months
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light and misa's "relationship" is rlly tragic and fucked but also in an isolated state its really fucking funny. ESPECIALLY if you consider them both to be arospec like i do
#misa is like ''oh light my wonderful boyfriend~!! we need to go on a date we haven't been on one in so long!''#(i know that when you're dating you're supposed to go on dates. so we have to go on a date every so often to assure me that i'm getting a#good grade in Having a Boyfriend something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve)#and then light is like (internally) 'i would literally rather kill myself than spend time with her but i need her for my purposes so i have#to appease her' (externally) ''ok sure i guess misa''#and then they go to a restaurant and misa waits for him to kiss her the whole night (she does not attempt to herself)#meanwhile light just sits there and goes nonverbal for long extended periods of time while he monologues in his head about how to appear#like a normal (straight) human being (spoiler: he's really bad at this)#and every so often he'll be like ''you look nice. this food is good. other boring pleasantries'' while glaring as if he's poisoned her food#THEY LIVED LIKE THIS FOR 4 YEARS.#again. awful. but also kind of fucking funny. gay aroace guy and aroace girl going through the motions of a heterosexual relationship for 4#whole years. they hate each other for sure dawg ToT obvs misa to a lesser extent but i think she definitely had a lot subconscious hate for#light. that only got stronger the longer things went on#also during this time they definitely had sex a Single Time because they got to a point where misa was like we've been dating for like#2 years normal couples usually sleep together way before then...... and light was like. LOUD SIGH. ok#it was terrible. neither of them enjoyed it and they never spoke of it again#gee wonder why that was (holding the ace spectrum behind my back)#anyways they're so awful im obsessed w them. awful apart and even WORSE together. it's beautiful#then you throw L in this mix and it gets even funnier and MORE awful#(he's bi aroace to me btw. for the record)#serena.txt#death note posting
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lamen-trash · 3 years
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19 for Damen/Laurent? 💙💙
19. Forehead kisses (Prompt from this list)
Laurent did not know when he first started noticing it.
Maybe it was a few months after his frequent visits to Damen’s apartment began, or maybe earlier. He couldn’t be sure.
All Laurent knew was that somehow, in the midst of making dinner, watching a movie together, and the inevitable drooping of his eyelids as the night wore on, he magically ended up in a bed every night. Granted, it was the guest bedroom, but Laurent never had any recollection of saying goodnight to Damen or walking to bed. None of that seemed to matter, though, when Laurent was greeted with the sight of Damen cooking breakfast in the morning light, curls askew and smile lethal as ever.
It never bothered him before. That is, until one night, when both men had consumed one too many glasses of wine and made more than a few jokes at the other’s expense.
“Oh, come on, you’re the one who can’t even stay up until midnight and falls asleep on my couch all the time,” Damen laughed, his finger flung out accusingly and his eyes full of glittering mirth. The alcohol brought a sweet flush to his cheeks that made Laurent feel like he was melting on the inside.
His words, however, brought Laurent to a halt. He could only stare as Damen started to laugh harder at the stunned expression painted across his pale features.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Damen teased. “You always complain about being too tired to drive home and your words get all slurred and I have to carry you to bed.”
“I– What?” Laurent could feel a fiery blush start to overtake his features. “You definitely do not.”
“Wow, so you really don’t remember, huh?” Damen’s laughter had died down, but the soft, amused gaze he directed at Laurent stayed on his face.
Laurent had to change the topic. To something. Anything. “Kind of like you don’t remember spilling all those people’s drinks at The Abbey?”
That seemed to do the trick, as drunk indignation twisted Damen’s features. “Hey, I have no recollection of ever–”
And, bingo. Oaf distracted, crisis averted. “Of course you don’t remember – you were hammered!” Laurent laughed. “All of those women kept giving you dirty looks for the rest of the night.”
As Damen tilted his head back for a hearty laugh, Laurent stalwartly ignored the strong column of his throat and the dip of his Adam’s Apple. They had been friends for years, and Damen had never made a move. Laurent needed to get over himself.
Later that night, as their energy faded and the conversation dwindled, Laurent was determined to stay alert. But there was something about the soft leather of Damen’s couch, the warm lighting of the apartment, and the soothing sound of Damen mumbling an old story that had Laurent’s vision fading.
When the feeling of arms folding around his body permeated the haze in Laurent’s mind, he had the wherewithal to mumble “M'awake,” and try to squirm out of Damen’s arms.
It was to no avail, as Damen only tightened his grip before leaving the living room. “Let’s get you to bed,” Damen whispered close to his ear. Laurent could only let out a little noise of acknowledgement in response.
Everything was still hazy when Laurent felt covers being pulled up over him, and then, a pause, like the entire world was waiting for something. Maybe Laurent was waiting, too.
And suddenly: the gentlest feeling of lips against his forehead, like a butterfly wing fluttering against his skin.
Laurent would’ve stopped to think about it more if his mind wasn’t already slipping into unconsciousness the moment the feeling faded. That night, Laurent slept a sound, dreamless sleep.
Waking up the next morning was like emerging from the cold ocean after a long swim. It was as if liquid warmth was bleeding into every one of Laurent’s limbs, making him snuggle down further into the soft bedding.
And yet, when he opened his eyes and remembered the previous night in a sudden rush, all Laurent could feel was panic.
What had Damen meant by that? Was he supposed to remember the kiss? Did Damen kiss him in a platonic way or in a we’ve-been-friends-for-years-but-I-secretly-want-you-like-you-want-me way?
Laurent couldn’t help but bury his face into a pillow and let out a silent scream. Leave it to Damen to do something so innocent yet so loaded, and not think twice about it. It was cruel, really – Damen wasn’t the one with severe mental health issues prone to overthinking and thought loops.
The more Laurent thought about it, the more he could feel himself getting fired up. How dare Damen play with his heart like this? Especially after everything Laurent had told him about his past, how much he had trusted him with…
However, all thoughts of chewing out a too-large Akielon verbally that morning dissipated when Laurent peeked out of the guest room to see a fully-prepared breakfast with pancakes, berries and homemade whip cream.
Fuck, Laurent thought, and his heart instantly swelled in size. Damen knew the key to his heart all too well – sweets. Damn him.
While Laurent filled himself with sugar and carbs and coffee, no mention of last night arose, and Damen continued on like everything was normal. He took Laurent’s prickly morning attitude in stride and even ruffled his blonde hair before going to get dressed.
If you want to play oblivious, two can play at that game, Laurent thought to himself, and chewed thoughtfully.
From that point on, every time Laurent went over to Damen’s house, he made an effort to hold onto the last shreds of consciousness before everything slipped away. Like clockwork, around midnight, Damen would gently pick Laurent up and carry him to bed before tucking him in and kissing his forehead. The feeling was always fleeting, but treasured in Laurent’s bruised heart.
Sometimes, if they had laughed particularly hard together one night, Damen would spend a few extra seconds stroking Laurent’s cheek or hair, before pulling away as if burned.
It was maddening. Not that Damen was treating him tenderly for seemingly no reason – that, Laurent particularly enjoyed – it was that Damen seemed to want to touch him more, yet never did.
“We’ve been friends for years, and nothing until now,” Laurent exclaimed, waving his hands around as if that would solve his problems. “Why doesn’t he just make a move already?”
Aimeric only raised his eyebrow over his freshly-brewed coffee as he took a long sip.
“You’re judging me. Why are you judging me? You know I hate it when you look at me like that,” Laurent deadpanned.
Aimeric let out a little chuckle before shaking his head fondly. “You,” he began, pointing a perfectly-manicured nail in Laurent’s direction. “Have a problem. And Damen does, too. There’s something wrong with you guys.”
“If you could skip out on the insulting me part and move on to the advice segment of this coffee date, I would really appreciate it.”
Laurent couldn’t hold in his begrudging smile when Aimeric wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and raised his voice an octave. “Ooh, we’re on a date right now? Should I delete my dating apps and tell all my boy toys that I’m taken?”
After a firm smack to Aimeric’s arm and a classic over-the-top reaction from the brunette, he sighed. “Listen, I’m only going to say this once. Do with it what you will.”
Laurent nodded, gravely serious.
“Damen’s in love with you,” Aimeric said, and then took a sip of coffee as if those words hadn’t just flipped Laurent’s entire world upside down.
“And before you wipe that stupid look off your face and deny it, you should hear that you’re definitely in love with him, too.”
“Wh–”
“Don’t make me say it again, and don’t deny the truth.”
Laurent’s mouth snapped shut. He chose his next words carefully. “Yes, it is true that after many years of friendship I do feel a certain… fondness for Damen, but that’s not–”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Aimeric exclaimed, and slapped his hand down onto the table. “You guys have been in love with each other for years and we’ve all been waiting for one of you to make a goddamn move. I’m sick of this back and forth ‘Will they, won’t they’ and ‘Oh they’re pining for each other and it’s romantic’ bullshit.”
“Wait–” Laurent felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his head.
“I’m being dead serious when I say you need to make a move as soon as possible or else I will spontaneously combust from lack of attention. All our friends ever want to talk about when you’re not there is how much you and Damen want to bone each other but act like you’re just friends. I told Pallas about a new guy I’m dating the other day and his response was to ask me if I want him as much as Damen clearly wants you. How is one man supposed to live like this?”
“Aimeric, stop–”
“It’s always Damen this, Laurent that. ‘They’re meant for each other,’ blah blah blah. What about my fairytale slowburn friends-to-lovers romance? What about any of us? It can’t be about the It couple all the time.”
“We’re not even a couple!”
“Exactly. That is my point. Get your shit together before we all excommunicate you two from the friend group for being dumbasses.” Laurent could see in Aimeric’s pointed look that his friend was serious.
While Laurent sat in stunned silence, Aimeric regained some of his usual amused nonchalance. “I’m late for my 2:00 meeting.”
With that, Aimeric was up out of his chair and patting Laurent’s shoulder in farewell before breezing out of the coffeeshop door.
Laurent could only finish his coffee quietly, sitting in dazed contemplation of what he was about to do.
That night, Laurent knew he had to bring out the big guns.
“Wow, wine and vodka tonight?” Damen asked upon opening his door, eyeing the alcohol in Laurent’s hands.
“Let’s play a drinking game,” Laurent said in response, a smirk playing around his lips. He didn’t miss the way Damen’s eyes strayed to his mouth.
Hours later, when Damen was thoroughly drunk and laughing way too loudly at Laurent’s insults, Laurent decided to make his move.
“Damen,” Laurent began, waiting until his friend looked up at him with glazed eyes. They were both sitting on the ground in front of the couch, a few candles lit around them. “How long have we been friends?”
“Is this still part of truth or dare?” Damen asked.
“No, it’s just truth now. We each ask a question, and the other person has to answer truthfully. If the other person refuses to answer, they have to take a shot.”
Damen let out an overdramatic whine and let his head fall back against the couch. “No more shots.”
“Then answer truthfully, and we won’t have a problem.” Laurent’s smile was sharp. Too sharp, and he could feel it. Even with the drunkenness running through his veins, Laurent’s nerves were on fire.
“Okay,” Damen said.
“Okay?”
“Yes, I said yes!” Damen laughed, and turned to face Laurent more fully. “You go first.”
Laurent made a show of thinking before starting again: “How long have we been friends?”
Damen’s smile turned dopey. “Hmm. Five years? No, six. Was that just a test?”
“Maybe,” Laurent couldn’t help but be charmed by Damen’s drunken earnestness. “Your turn.”
“How do you get your hair to be so soft?” Damen asked in wonder, reaching out a finger to twirl a golden loc around.
Laurent laughed. “Conditioner.”
“Never tried that,” Damen said thoughtfully, which made Laurent laugh again. Damen, being Damen, joined in, until both men were giggling uncontrollably on the floor for no apparent reason.
It was when their laughter started to die down that Laurent decided to rip the Band-Aid off.
“Are you in love with me?”
Damen’s laughter abruptly cut off. Laurent couldn’t bring himself to meet Damen’s gaze, so he opted to stare down at his crossed legs and fidgeting hands.
Wordlessly, Damen poured himself a shot and downed it in one go. Laurent risked a glance up and was met with Damen’s solemn face, uncharacteristically stoic.
“My turn.” Damen said in a rush. “How long have you been awake when I kiss your forehead at night?”
“A couple months now.” Damen wasn’t meeting his eyes, so Laurent pushed on. “Do you want me?”
Another shot, downed hastily by an increasingly-drunk Damen who still refused to make eye contact.
A shred of irritation slithered into Laurent’s heart. Why wouldn’t Damen just talk to him?
“Do you ever think about it? Us together?” Damen went to pour another shot, but before he could say anything else, Laurent shot to his feet.
“Oh, so you’re just not going to answer me, then? You’re not going to answer any of my questions? How about this: Have you ever thought about fucking me? About me naked underneath you? About us kissing and holding hands and going on dates in public together?”
Damen raised the shot glass to his lips, but Laurent knocked it out of his hand before it reached his mouth. Finally, Damen met Laurent’s gaze, and the panic that had been seizing Laurent’s heart for months seemed to be reflected in his dark irises.
“Stand up and talk to me, idiot, before I leave this apartment and never come back,” Laurent hissed.
Slowly, Damen rose to his feet. “I love you,” Laurent managed to get out, despite his throat closing up with emotion. “And if you don’t love me back, I’m not going to wait around and–”
Between one second and the next, Damen had a strong arm wrapped around Laurent’s waist and was pulling him in, closer and closer until their mouths met.
Laurent could only freeze, everything in his body coming to a halt, as he registered what was happening. Damen was kissing him. He had refused to answer all of his questions, and yet–
“You’re the idiot,” Damen whispered into the scant space in between their lips when he pulled away. “I’ve been in love with you the whole time.”
“But– I– you–” Laurent tried and failed to get a coherent sentence out.
“I thought you were asking all of those questions because you were mad I was carrying you to bed and kissing you goodnight,” Damen laughed. “Granted, I am quite drunk and not thinking straight, but that’s not the point.”
“The point is–” Damen began, but interrupted himself to steal another quick kiss. “I want you more than anything in the world. I’m happy with your friendship if that’s all you’re willing to give, but you need to know I’ve been in love with you for years.”
The room seemed to come into sharper focus, as if every detail in Damen’s apartment had been hiding from Laurent previously.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Laurent could hear the shrill tone in his voice, his incredulity overcoming all reason.
“Laurent,” Damen deadpanned. “I’ve barely dated anyone else the entire time we’ve been friends and I make you food all the time. You’re my emergency contact for everything. Hell, you’re the only one of our friends who has a key to my apartment. Was I not making myself clear enough?”
After a moment of contemplation, Laurent could only laugh.
“What?” Damen asked defensively, as Laurent leaned forward to rest his head against Damen’s shoulder, stifling his giggles in the fabric of Damen’s sweater.
“I just… this whole time?”
“Yes.”
When Laurent pulled back, he was met with the softest look he’d ever seen on Damen’s face. It was almost unbearable. And yet, he could bear it. For Damen, he would.
Laurent leaned in for another kiss. “Six years, huh?”
“Mm-hm,” Damen murmured against his lips.
“I guess we have lots of lost time to make up for,” Laurent smirked, and grabbed Damen’s hand.
“We are both way too drunk to have coordinated sex right now,” Damen warned, and Laurent laughed.
“Not sex,” Laurent said, and took back his spot in front of the couch. “We’re playing the questions game again, and this time you don’t get to evade. I need some answers, starting with a detailed explanation of when exactly you started to like me as more than a friend.”
The wicked yet playful look on Laurent’s face made Damen groan.
This was going to be a long night. Somehow, Damen couldn’t find it within himself to care.
Read this on AO3.
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fandomscombine · 3 years
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Heartbreak Woman [Cho/Cedric Ending]
Warning: Angst! Brokenhearted!Reader
WC:1454
I proposed 3 varying endings and the response was across the board so I decided why the heck not write ALL 3 choices!
a/n: I haven't been active on tumblr this past month. Motivation to read & write wasn't really there. Feelin pretty crap. I don't think it's my best work- I actually wrote this ending last month but delay posting it since I promised to post all 3 endings back to back- but with the recent burnout, my progress is slow. Proofread it and push the insecurities & anxieties away and here we are. Love was put into this, I hope you enjoy it! Don't worry, the other 2 endings are on the way.
I tried posting this 9 times now and it keeps saying error. this is me testing it with mobile so formatting is hard but I hope it posts
BG: You were hoping that your best friend, Cedric to ask you to the Yule Ball. Instead you were roped into helping him ask Cho out. It broke your heart, but at least this way while helping him out you could pretend that he was doing all the sweet things to you. On the other side of the picture, Harry was too heartbroken upon learning that Cho is going out with Cedric.
Read the main story before it diverges ending here!
>>>Heartbreak Woman [Main]
>>>MASTERLIST<<<
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Did Harry Potter really just ask you out and you said yes?
Touching your forehead, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but there is still a slight sting to it from the collision with Harry’s broom. Yes. That definitely happened. You thought to yourself, this isn’t some delusion from the injury.
 This is good. This is good. Hyping yourself up. You enjoy his company and that should be enough to stop your thoughts from going about a certain Hufflepuff boy. The same boy you had abruptly left alone in the greens. It’s not his fault nor it is Cho’s for wanting to date each other. You have nothing against them, they are both such lovely and kind people and not to mention popular- it was only a matter of time that they got together, Hogwarts’ Power Couple.
No, it’s just you and your stupid feelings falling for your best friend and agreeing to help with the courtship.
‘Y/n? Hii.” The voice reels you back to reality.
You blinked. “Cho! Hi!” Greeting her loudly had been taken by surprise. You dial down your volume. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s actually what you did, really… I just wanted to say thank you.”
You were confused, why was she thanking you?
“For helping Cedric I mean” She clarified. “He mentioned that you helped him with the picnic idea. It was very sweet. It was what made me finally say yes.”
“That’s awesome.” You force yourself to smile. “I’m glad you guys are together, I can finally get that git to stop bothering me with date ideas. That’s 3 weeks of my life I’m not getting back!” There was some truth to that statement, now that she and Cedric are together you don’t have to go through the pain of practice dates with Cedric.
“You y/n are the absolute wingwoman! Legend material!” Cho praised. “You're like my fairy godmother!” She continues, wrapping you into an embrace.
“yayyyy….That’s me…” You mumble into her luscious hair. Grateful that Cho couldn’t see your face.  Pulling apart, you don’t let her go quite yet. With hands on her shoulder, you stare unwavering. “Just don’t break his heart yea? He’s really smitten by you, promise you won’t hurt him.”
Cho is taken aback a bit, your words clearly coming from a strong emotional bond with the boy.  Thoughts of love, Eros, passed through her mind but brushed it away - It can’t be y/n help them get together. Y/n’s words must come from Philia love, y/n and Cedric had been best friends since before they could talk! Everyone knows that. They have a soul connection that can’t be replicated.  “I promise.”
~
14th February.
Valentine’s Day.
This holiday sucks.
No, not for the reason that you’re single. Nah.
Today is a downer as you won’t be able to do your annual tradition.
See every since 3rd year you and Cedric would be in a pink ensemble outfit complete with red heart sunglasses. Spreading chants of self love and showering fellow single students and professors with compliments. This all started out when your roommates teased you for not having a date for Valentine’s day.  When Cedric had heard about it, he went all out. The boy basically made sure that every single person knew how wonderful, beautiful and intelligent you are.
It was this day onwards that 2 things happened.
Complementing and advocating for self love, Philautia, in a pink get up became an annual Valentine’s tradition. (Even a couple of students joined the cause, expanding from you just both into an association/group of sorts.)
 You started to see Cedric in a new light. In other words, you were falling in love with your best friend.
Scanning the Great Hall for pink cladded pupils, you were glad that the group had saved you a seat however a certain Hufflepuff was out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you cleared your head. Get it together y/n. Today is about sharing love and do NOT think about Cedric and Cho going on a romantic date in Hogsmeade.
You were about to take a step forward when-
“Argh!” Shutting your eyes as the hall spun around.
“Relaxx!! Relax! It’s just me.”
Feet back on solid ground, you turned towards the perpetrator, the one boy you did not want to see right now. “What the fuck Ced! Don’t scare me like that!”
“I’m sorry…” Cedric raises his arms in surrender. “Is everything alright?”
“Yea everything’s fine.”
Cedric raises a brow. You forget that this boy can see through your bullshit.
“Only had a couple hours of sleep, that’s all.” It wasn’t a lie, in fact you’d only gotten 3 hours of rest last night, it was just the case of omitting that his upcoming date with Cho was the reason for your restlessness. You don’t want to blame it on jealousy, but it is.
Grabbing hold of your hand, he pulls you towards the group. "Alright then, I've got some spare sleeping potion if you need."
You wave to your fellow singles as you sit down."uh..thanks Ced." You couldn't stop vocalizing your confusion as to why Cedric is still right next to you. Normally you wouldn't complain, but today was Valentine's Day.
"Ouch y/n!" Cedric sassed, eyes focused on piling food onto his plate." Just because I have a girlfriend now doesn't mean I would disappear on my best girl."
My best girl. It hurts to be called that in another context than you wanted.
"Don't you have a date with Cho today?"
"Yea but Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop  doesn't open until 11am. Which gives me time for our annual Valentine's tradition!"
"But you're taken."
"Yes….but I could still help spreading the love!" Cedric glanced around. "No one minds that I come to join you right?"
A murmur of Nos filled your eyes.
"Haha! See I told you!" Cedric brags, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Looks at you straight in the eyes, those gorgeous grey irises melting away your defenses."You can't get rid of me that easily." He whispers, loud enough only for you to hear. You could feel the heat filling up your face due to his closeness. Too busy lost in the rapid beats of your heart, you failed to notice his face getting even closer.
A softness like cotton grazes your cheek.
Cedric kissed you!
Your mind is close to being short circuited. The area of where Cedric's lips were a nanosecond ago is cold as ice. The cold contrasted with your now burning hot, blushing face.
You could live in this forever. All external environments quiet, blocked out of focus. Cedric's arms around you while the butterflies in your stomach bursts out, occupying your whole body with sheer giddiness from having his lips on you.
But the daydream breaks.
"Hey Love! You ready?"
"Morning!" He greets, kissing her. "Uh…" It's only 9:34am. You nod, silently telling him that it was okay to miss your annual tradition. You weren't expecting any quality time today, yet he managed even if it was just for breakfast. "Yea.. give me 10 minutes to go change and I'll pick you up at the courtyard?"
"Sounds great. Be quick cause I miss you already!"
"Sure will sweetheart." He pecks her lips again then waves goodbye to the table and he's off, running.
The tension changes once Cedric is gone.
"Can I talk to you outside y/n?"
"uh yeah" Once outside. "What's up?" Trying to sound casual. Cho inviting you to speak privately isn't usual-seeing that you were the couple's go to accomplice for surprises.
"I see the way you look at him."
"I'm sorry?"
"I know.you like him. y/n. I know you like Cedric."
"Cho.. you can't be serious, he's my best friend!"
"I wasn't sure then.but just now..the way you act around him. the way you look at him. y/n is undeniable. It’s  so obvious-I had assumptions then but everyone just brushes it off as your childhood friend with each other. heck even both of you say that."
"Cho…."
"I didn't bring this up before because I felt insecure, jealous even that I can't live up to the standard of relationship you and Cedric have.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There were too many revelations bombarding you all at once, that you are having trouble processing what is going on.
“But I am tired of what ifs and worrying.” Voice quivering, she continues. “You've got to tell him, y/n."
The words snap you back into place.
"Cho… I can't. I can't ruin your relationship."
If you love someone and they love someone else, you let them go.
~
Everything Taglist :@gruffle1
HP Taglist:@onlyfreds
Heartbreak woman Tagist:
@joalinbenefits @the-natureofme @romanoffs-heart @justmesadgirl @plumso @gleefulleve @wolf-phoenix-lover @ceofcedric @savvy7392 @cedricsfluffyhair @thewayilookatbacon @LIONLIKEWOLFLIKE @mellifluous-cosmos
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fangirlshrieks · 3 years
Text
Spring Break part 1
a/n: This is my first official post on here and I don't know how it will turn out. Tik Tok really made me obsessed with Harry Potter 😭.  Now I am a simp for Neville. I got a soft spot for quiet, nerdy, shy, and subby boys. I don't usually write fanfiction because my ideas are usually super long and I have no time to write them out but I decided to write this one. I will also be posting this on my wattpad account. I read @omg-imatotalmess sub!Neville fic back in December and I've been obsessed with the idea of Neville being a sub. *internally screaming* 
Part 1, Part 2, part 3
Word count: 2,519
Pairings: Neville Longbottom x female reader
Warnings: Mensions of sex, Innuendoes, mentions of plant boy's insecurities
The sunlight intruded through your dorm room windows. It shined at just the right angle so the light hit your eyes, abruptly waking you up. In annoyance your turn onto your stomach and bury your head under your pillow desperate for just a few more minutes of sleep but the memory of it being the last day of school before spring break entered your mind. You peaked from under your pillow to check the time. It was around 7:05. You huffed. It was too early to get up. Unable to go back to sleep with the light in your eyes you reluctantly got up out of bed and got ready for the day. You could hear the deep snores of your dorm mates sleeping quietly as you got ready. It was times like these where you enjoyed getting up earlier than everyone else. There was always a sort of peace before the hustle and bustle of everyone rushing to the bathrooms to find a mirror or use the sinks. You made sure to be as quiet as possible. Having gotten ready you decide to head to the great hall for breakfast. 
Sitting down at the Y/H table you grabbed a toast and some butter and jam. There were a few students around but not enough to fill the hall with loud noise. None of your friends were up yet, that's for sure, so you scanned the room to see if your boyfriend, Neville Longbottom, was there.
'Who am I kidding he's probably still asleep too' you thought.
But just as you turned to eat your food, Neville had entered the great hall. He spotted you and quickly walked over to where you were sitting. 
"Hello love" he gave you a quick peck on the top of your head before sitting down next to you. 
"What are you doing here so early?" His tone is full of amusement, knowing you aren't normally one of the first students to enter the great hall in the morning. 
"I could ask you the same thing" you said, giving him a teasing look. 
"Well I couldn't really sleep last night. Too excited for holiday, I guess." He responded with a bit of nervousness in his voice. You didn't seem to notice however.
"Well I was rudely interrupted from a wonderful sleep by a disgusting thing called sunrise." The sarcasm in your voice made the two of you laugh slightly.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to sleep in."
"It's fine. That just means I get to spend more time with you today." You said nudging him with your shoulder. "By the way did you ever tell your gran that I would be visiting the two of you at the lake house."
Neville's grandmother was invited by an old friend to stay with her at her lake house. The lake house was relatively close to where you lived in London but it was obviously in the wizarding world. You had asked Neville about two weeks ago if you could visit him and his grandmother while they were there. You had never been to a lake house before and you wanted to spend your first Holiday with him as his girlfriend since you two had got together.
You had only been going out since December but you had been friends since 1st year. When his grandmother heard the news about the two of you finally becoming an official couple she was ecstatic. She always believed there was something more between the two of you. Even when you were in your previous relationship with a boy from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic your fourth year, there was always something there but neither of you believed that other could ever like you in that way. But after you broke up with your ex at the end of your fourth year, the tension between you and Neville was undeniable. It was not until the start of 6th year after Neville had an encounter with Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic and it was revealed that Voldemort had returned that you and Neville had actually acted on your feelings. Now here you are actually together.
You had visited him and his grandmother before during other school breaks but only every as a friend. This time would be different. Your mind sometimes wondered about taking your relationship to the next level but you only ever mention that once before and Neville seemed nervous the entire time so you dropped the subject. You assumed it was because he was a virgin and unfortunately to your dismay it was a well known fact that you had lost your virginity to your ex who had bragged about it when you were a couple (but that is a story for a later time).
"Oh yeah." He seemed anxious and grabbed a toast to shove in his mouth to try and drown the worry in his voice, but it didn't help. "Gran said you are welcome anytime."
"Perfect." 
More students started filling the hall as you finished your breakfast. Dean and Seamus had also entered the hall and made their way towards the two of you. 
"Hey guys." Neville greeted them.
"What are you two love birds talking about?" Dean said while leaning over your shoulder.
"Just making plans." You said nonchalantly as you turned your head towards him.
"Plans for Holiday I assume?" Seamus piped in with a raised eyebrow. From behind your back, Neville gave him a look almost as if he was pleading with him not to make any inappropriate jokes. 
"Yes, actually" you answered.
Seamus pushed on, "Care to elaborate?" 
"I'm sorry, but I actually have to pack, which I would advise you three to do the same." You turned back to Neville. "I'll meet you at the Entrance Hall so we can head towards the Express together, yeah?"
"Sounds like a plan." And with that Neville watched you headed towards your dorm to pack.
He was thankful you left before Deam or Seamus could mention anything about what had happened last night. The three of them all walked over to the Gryffindor table to eat.
"So you and y/n are you and going to be sharing the same room?" Seamus asked.
Neville choked on his juice he was drinking and coughed a few times before finally recovering.
"Relax mate, it's natural to be nervous your first time." Dean added.
"I already told you too, me and y/n are not doing anything during break. She's just visiting me and gran for a day." Neville had a slight red hue over his cheeks.
"Alright, alright " Dean said amusingly.
"But just so you know spring break is when couples usually…" Seamus didn't get to finish.
"I get it, Seamus! Do you have to be so loud?" Neville cut him off. "I think I'm going to go pack now, see you guys later."
"Just remember to pack the rubbers Seamus gave you." Dean laughed under his breath.
Of course how could Neville forget the rubbers.
------ The night before in the boys dormitories ------
"Yeah, it's going to be great. Y/N is joining me and gran for a day at the lake house. It will be nice to not be the only person my age there. Plus I can show Y/N all the cool plants around the lake." Neville was beaming talking about his plans for Holiday with you and his grandmother. His smile was radiant and by the expression on his face you could totally tell he was smitten by you.
"Wait let me get this straight. Y/N is going to be staying at your grandmother's lake house with you." Dean was trying to make sense of the situation.
"Technically it's my gran's friend's lake house."
"That doesn't matter." Seamus said bluntly. "The fact is you and Y/N are going to be at a lake house together during spring break."
"What are you going on about?" Neville was completely dumbfounded about what was wrong with the situation.
"Seamus, will you just tell him." 
"I got a better idea." Seamus walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer. He searched inside for a small box. Once he found it, he grabbed it, and threw it towards Neville. When it landed on his bed, Neville grabbed the box and read what it was. He saw the figure on the box was a warrior and the name 'Trojan' written at the very top. His eyes widened and he immediately fumbled the box before he dropped it. He could feel his cheeks warm up as Dean and Seamus laughed at his reaction.
"Wh.. Where did you get those?" Neville distanced himself from the condoms.
"It doesn't matter." Seamus said, still laughing.
"Are you serious? I can't take those with me." Neville was embarrassed for having never even thought that something like that would happen while on Holiday with you. "Wait, this trip isn't even about that. Me and Y/N haven't even done anything yet. I haven't even done anything yet!" Seamus insinuation had clearly caused Neville to freak out and rethink his entire plan of having you visit him during break.
"Chill out mate." Dean was trying not to laugh but it wasn't really helping.
"Mate we know it’s your first time, we just thought you could use some pointers." Seamus suggested.
"I really don't think that's necessary. We're not going to…" this time Neville was cut off by Seamus.
"Listen, when you put the condom on make sure you pinch the top so there is a bit of room there and then roll it down. If you don't it just might break and we don't want that happening do we."
"Also don't forget to use a new one every time. Apparently they are not reusable." Dean chimed in. 
Neville was in shock and the color of his face matched the color of his house's signature color. 
"Please stop." He was pulling at his hair in agony.
"We're just trying to help a friend out." Seamus said smugly.
"This isn't helping. This is making it worse." Neville shoved his head in his pillow from embarrassment. 
The other boys continue to laugh. Neville, extremely embarrassed by his friend's insinuation, tried to come up with a reason to leave his dorm and got up and grabbed the closet textbook near him.
"Uhh... I forgot I need to catch up on my studies" and with that he rushed to the Gryffindor common room. 
At this time at night the common room was empty. Only the fireplace lit the room with a warm glow. He sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and ran his fingers through his hair to ease his nerves.
"How could I be so stupid?" He asked himself aloud. 
The signs had been there all along. He just hadn't put all the pieces together until now. You had originally asked him if you could spend the night at the lake house but he didn't understand why at the time because you lived close by. Then there was the conversation the two of you had a couple of weeks ago. You had asked Neville how he had felt about moving your relationship on a more intimate level and he had completely freaked out by the sudden suggestion. He had certainly thought about you in that way occasionally (even before the two of you were officially together) but he never imagined it to ever come to fruition. Then when the two of you had finally gotten together, he felt inadequate in that particular area because he had never been with anyone romantically. He was relieved when you dropped the subject but knew it would be a topic to come back again. 
He also noticed how touchy you had become lately in private. You two were definitely not a pda couple but preferred to show your love to one another in private. Neville thought back to the time last week when it was just the two of you sitting by the lake while he read you a chapter in his herbology book. The two of you had sat right under a tree and you had sat next to him leaning your head on his shoulder and placed your hand on his thigh. 
As he read to you, your hand slowly made its way higher and higher towards the area between his legs. At first he was completely oblivious to your actions until he had set his book aside from in front of him and noticed how close your hand was to his crotch. It had made him freeze and he felt his face heat up. You had looked up at him and leaned in to give him a kiss which eventually turned into a heated make out session. Neville couldn't recall how you ended up on top of him or how your hands had slipped under his shirt but they did. He untimely stopped the moment when his crotch was becoming increasingly annoying as you rested your weight on him. He sensed that you had felt a little disappointed despite your reassuring words. 
Neville rubbed the back of his head in frustration as he recalled the memory. He didn't want to stop but his insecurities got the best of him. He remembered how self conscious he felt when you started to rub up and down on his chest and stomach. Neville knew he did not have the most muscular built nor was he very slim. He often wondered what you even saw in him. 
He hated when he started to overthink. He quickly shut out those thoughts and ended up thinking about you and your smile. How he loved your smile and how bright you beamed every time you looked at him like he was the greatest person in the world. 
"That has to count for something right?" He whispered to himself. 
'Wait what if she does want to have sex this week?' He pondered on the possibility. 
His mind wondered about the idea of losing his virginity to you and smiled to himself as another thought entered his mind. 
You were riding him like your life depended on it. It was really a sight for sore eyes and he found himself more open to the idea. Then his eyes went wide with the sudden realization that he doesn't really know anything about the female anatomy. He didn't really know where his penis was supposed to enter or where the clit was. At this point he had wished there was some sort of sex education at Hogwarts.
His nerves seemed to oscillate from high to low with his constant thinking.
"This is going to be a long break." He said to himself rubbing his temples.
That night he kept twisting and turning in bed and couldn't get much sleep. He ended up sleeping for only 4 hours and was woken up by the sunshine entering the windows. He reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day. 
Heading out of Gryffindor tower he left towards the great hall for breakfast. 
a/n: Hoped you like it. 😊
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inkedwarrior · 3 years
Text
Prompt #1
AN: So, I have had this prompt forever and never gotten around to writing it. But now it's done. I did change some things because they fit easier with how I write. It got way longer than I intended and I'm still not super happy with the ending, but still, I hope you guys like it. Thank you @silvafox for the inspiration. Prompt: You've always hated your power to reveal people true opinions of each other, it got your parents divorced, after all. But after jokingly using the power at a work party while drunk, you realize your partner/spouse loathes you. But your worst enemy, an asshole coworker, loves you. Pairing: Saul Silva x reader
In general, being a mind fairy wasn’t the easiest. When you were younger, you had a hard time coping with your gifts. Your mother, being a mind fairy herself, tried her best to help you, but while she mainly focused on dreams, you strayed between the mind, dreams and thoughts. But it all paled in comparison when you discovered another part your gifts around your twelfth birthday. It was a normal morning, you and your parents eating breakfast together before the start of the day. Noticing a weird aura around them, you closed your eyes to delve deeper. You wish you never had.
What followed were the worst minutes of your life and from that moment on, you hated that part. You hated the fact the their divorce was your fault, because if you hadn’t delved deeper into their bond, they never would have revealed their true opinions of each other. You couldn’t stand to know that your parents loathed each other and the fact that they found out was your fault. Over the years you’ve tried to find other fairies with the same ability but so far you’ve come up short. There wasn’t much information in books either, so you could never put a name to ability. It didn’t matter, because after what happened to your parents, you vowed to never use it again. So you secluded the part deep within yourself and tried to live your life as best as you could.
You went to school, met your partner, who would later become your spouse and eventually got a job offer to teach at Alfea, a very prestigious school for fairies and specialists. You jumped at the chance when Headmistress Dowling contacted you with the offer and since your partner could work from anywhere, you packed up your things and moved to Alfea. The pain and guilt of what you’ve had done as a child was always there but you learned to live with it. You had told your partner of what had happened but asked them no never speak of it, and noticing what a discomfort the subject brought you, had dropped it.
Teaching at Alfea was everything you’ve ever dreamed of except for one thing. Or rather one person. Saul Silva. The headmaster of the specialist had made it his personal mission to make your days a living hell. He was always getting on your nerves, complaining about this or that, making comments under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening. If the two of you ever had to work together, you spent more time arguing than anything else. Farah quickly noticed and tried to keep the two of you apart as much as possible.
“Hey Y/N, wait up,” looking behind you, you notice Ben Harvey juggling several plants at the same time. Laughing, you offer to take some of them off his hands. He generously accepts and the two of you continue to stroll towards the greenhouses. Arriving there, the smile on your face disappears quickly, seeing Saul leaning against the wall with that cocky smirk of his.
“Ben, I need advice on a couple of things, do you have time?”, he follows the two of you inside. Wanting to get as far away from him as possible, you put down the plants on a bench and noticing Ben doesn’t need any help, you hurry away, pushing past Saul and closing the door behind you. You would never admit it out loud, but despite getting on your nerves most days and just in general being an asshole towards you, you couldn’t help but to notice the fact that Saul Silva was attractive. You hated yourself for even looking at him like that, but there was something that stirred a feeling deep in your gut every time you looked at him. You always shook those feelings away, reminding yourself that you were in a loving relationship, with a partner who loved you.
The thought of your partner halted your steps. How long had it been since the two of you slept in the same bed? Shared a kiss? Thinking back, you couldn’t remember. Lately you had been working late with Farah, planning a new lesson plan for next year, and more often than not, you had opted to stay in you overnight suite that you vacated at Alfea. And your partner was constantly working, traveling. But had it really been that long since the two of you saw each other. Checking your phone, you noticed that your last phone call was over 2 months ago. Arriving at your door, you went inside and sat down. Staring at the phone, your finger hovering over the call button. Despite the feeling telling you to not call them, you pressed down and held the phone to you ear. Several dials tones pass by before they pick up, sounding slightly out of breath. They almost sound surprised to hear from you and the feeling grows worse. Not wanting to argue you nicely ask them is they’re still coming to the annual Alfea Christmas party, hosted for the teachers each year. Agreeing to a time and date, you quickly hang up, neither of you uttering any words of love or comfort. Curling up under the covers, you close your eyes hoping that sleep will come soon.
Two weeks later
You were drunk. Or maybe tipsy. Either way, you had consumed far too much alcohol and decided to maybe switch to water for the rest of the night. Your partner was chatting up someone on the other side of the room, and even though there’s a lot of people around, you see them flirting. Somehow, it doesn’t bother you. It should bother you that the person promising you the future, forever and always, is flirting openly, but it don’t. When did this happen? When did you fall out of love with each other. Noticing you watching them, they make their way over to you. Sitting down, they take your hand, asking if everything is alright. Looking at them, you decide that no, everything is not alright.
And that’s when you notice it. The orange aura surrounding them, the same aura that once had surrounded your parents. Through the haze induced by the alcohol, you stare at them, unconsciously delving deeper into their mind. What you find should leave you in tears, but it doesn’t. The feeling of anger, loathe and tired is spreading throughout their body, and it is all directed at you. You let go of their hand.
“So, where you ever going to tell me?”, you stand, looking them in the eyes. You’re just tired now, and you want straight answers. You pull them to a quiet corner, out of prying eyes.
“Tell you what?”, they look confused for a moment, but you see the understanding slowly dawning in their eyes. Anger quickly surfaces and you don’t even have the strength to defend yourself.
“You said you never wanted to talk about this, and I never thought you would ever read me like that,” they’re upset and you understand. But you don’t care. Exhaling slowly through your nose, you take their hand.
“If you want out of this marriage, you should have told me,” they look down at your joined hands. Eyes meeting, you know this is the end. They take a few steps back, fiddling with their ring. Making the decision for them, you slid your ring off, handing it over. Sharing one last look, they turn on their heel, walking away.
“Hrm,” a quiet cough startles you and turning around, you see Saul watching you with a look you can’t quite understand. But it isn’t what catches your focus the most. It’s the warm red aura surrounding him, all while watching you. You choke on air and he steps towards you, a hand stretched out.
“Are you alright?”, gone is the usually cocky facade he sports around you, instead a genuine concern etched onto his face. You try to utter something but it gets caught in your throat. Spluttering you sit down, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. You know what the red aura means, granted you haven’t seen it much, but you remember it surrounding both you and your partner, former partner, in the early days of your relationship. It doesn’t make sense. Saul hates you, of that you’re pretty sure. He’s always an asshole and he never gives you a break. He should not be surrounded by the warm red light around you. Not knowing what to feel, you do the only thing you can. You bolt.
“Y/N, wait up,” you can hear his footsteps behind you and you turn around so quickly the two of you almost collide.
“Why do you care Saul?”, you don’t intend for it to sound so harsh, but you’re tired and confused. A lot has happened in the span of a very short time tonight. You stare him down, waiting for an answer.
“Why do I care? I know I haven’t exactly been very nice towards you and Ben told me off a couple of weeks for it,” feeling even more confused you continue to look at him. A blush is rising on his cheeks and he’s claps his hands together, so far from the person you’re used to him being.
“I’m not good at this, and I know you have no reason to believe what I’m about to say,” he takes a step towards you and the look in his eyes have you standing still.
“Good at what?”, you cock your head, and then the red around him glows even brighter than before. He seems nervous all of a sudden and clears his throat.
“Talking about this, eh, talking about feelings,” you gape at him, feeling speechless.
“What feelings?”, you remember that he doesn’t know about your ability, so you ask the question, despite that fact that his aura says everything. He cares for you, no he loves you.
“I care about you. I know that I haven’t exactly shown it, but emotions isn’t my strong suit and when I felt this way about you, I panicked. You’re married and I didn’t want to ruin anything so I thought the best way was to act like an asshole,” he speaks clearly and you want to laugh out loud. This situation is more messed up than you would like it to be but the feeling you usually get around him stirs in your gut once again.
“My partner just left. I gave them my ring back,” holding up your hand, you show him the blank spot where your wedding ring used to be. Explaining that your marriage has been over for quite some time and this was only waiting to happen, you see him smile, and you can’t help but to smile back. Feeling that this conversation is far away from being over, but something tells you that it can wait. Taking a step forward, you grab his collar before he can react and rise on your toes to press your lips against his. The red swirls around the both of you and for once in your life, you don’t hate your ability.
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mommymooze · 3 years
Text
Dreaming of a Different Day
Reader, Fe3h Characters, Modern AU
Blood, gore, fighting, dead bodies, homework, sweating
7986 words
Working night shift at a gas station isn’t the most glorious job, but it helps pay the bills while you are trying to complete your degree at college. Determined to graduate without getting buried under an insurmountable amount of student debt, you work two jobs, sometimes three, even if it means taking 10 years to get a 4 year degree. Scoring a job in building maintenance for the college certainly helps with getting reduced fees on classes and books. Between two current jobs and classes or study time, there isn’t much time to sleep. Sometimes you volunteer your body as a lab rat for some of the studies done at the university, if you can work them in to your hectic schedule. This time they want to study your brain while you sleep. Getting paid to sleep? Sign me up!
Filling your 32oz. thermal bucket with coffee, you head out to catch a bus to campus. You have about an hour to study before you make it to the appointment at the psychology building.
An alarm sounds on your phone, time to pack up to make it to your appointment on time. Stashing your laptop and books into your backpack you head up the stairs to the third floor. Opening the door, you see a sleepy looking green haired student gathering forms together and stapling them into packets, placing them into manila folders.
“I’m here for the 8:00am appointment.” You announce.
He hands you a folder and a pen, telling you to fill out the paperwork and return them to him when complete.
You fill out the forms completely and honestly. Your sleep schedule is hell, you sleep when you can, mostly during daylight hours. You don’t recall any of your dreams or nightmares. No drinking or drugs. No sense in lying on these forms, they’ll find out if you’re trying to say something to please them or force yourself into their study group. Forms complete, you place them on the front desk as the young man nods.
Returning to your table you pull out your laptop and begin working on homework. You notice someone is standing in front of you.
A tall young woman with short blonde hair smiles at you, asking you to follow her. You grab your things, she leads you to a small room with a bed and several different machines, some on tables, some freestanding.
She tells you to change into a hospital gown, tie in the front because they need to attach some wires for monitoring. Most of the wires are attached to your head. She tells you the liquid they use to have it stick to your head is easily washed out of your hair. Once you are fully wired, she leaves and comes back with the fluffiest, warmest blanket you have ever felt and wraps it around you leading you to the bed. She asks if you want a sleep mask to block out the light and you do. The hum of the machines, the darkness and the fluffy warm blanket are enough to get you to fall asleep quite quickly.
A soft alarm goes off and you hear the voice of the green haired man asking you what you remember. You stay still, thinking. You recall walking down a corridor, speaking with other people. They are dressed differently. Maybe wearing a school uniform? You were carrying a book headed to…you can’t remember. It is strange, why suddenly have a dream here of all places? Taking the mask from your eyes you look to see him writing. He finishes his notes and leaves muttering a soft “Thank you.”
The wires are removed, you are told to change back into your regular clothes. They will message you if you will be chosen for further study. Handing you an envelope full of cash you head out the door, just in time to make it to your class.
Classes done for the day. You are mopping the floors of the student housing building 3. Yet another party to clean up after. Sure, you could notify the RA’s and make the other students do it, but they would make more mess and take too long. It is easier to simply clean it up yourself. Giving the floor a final mop, you shriek as someone steps behind you and taps on your shoulder.
“Hey, sorry we made so much mess for you.” A handsome male with dark hair, darker skin and brilliant green eyes smiles at you.
“No prob. No mess, no job, right?” You answer. They always show up when the work is about done.
“Can I interest you in some cake? We have some left.” He gestures with his hand open towards you.
“Nope. Smelled it too long cleaning it from floor vents.” You keep swiping the mop back and forth, then dunking it in your soapy bucket, squeezing it out and slapping it back on the floor.
Claude attempts to introduce himself. “Claude Riegan, Senior, Political Science.”
You answer in a monotone voice, “I am the janitor.“
“Hah.” He forces a laugh. “I’ve seen you in the halls here and there. You’re a student as well.”
You shrug, going to the closet to dump out your bucket. “Gotta run. Bldg 2 calls.”
He smiles and waves, you sort of wave back.
Work complete you head back to the smaller than an efficiency apartment you rent. Hotplate, and microwave for cooking, it has a half bath so you wash in a plastic tub. One small room for everything, no closets. Everything you own is in labeled tubs. No windows, but there is a door that locks.
You work on homework until your brain is fried. Collapsing on your bed you set an alarm, plug in your phone and laptop and sleep for a few hours before you have to get up for work tonight at the gas station.
Making it to class 5 minutes early you haul your bucket of coffee with a straw in it to your seat. Did you see that Claude guy in the halls? He likes yellow shirts. Both times you saw him in that color.
Today you listen to the lecture while looking around the room. Most of the time you take notes but you know this particular subject well. There’s a guy with light green hair and glasses to the right. Why does he look familiar? Have you seen him in a class before? You recognize the emo guy in front with a brown haired girl always huddled together. Oh no. The horrendous heartbreaker is here. Who doesn’t know about him? How many messes of his have you cleaned up because he’s dumped a girl and she resorted to violence and damaged school property? At least 100. You had no idea he was in your class. You lift up a book to block his direct view of your face. Perhaps you can remain nonexistent to him.
The professor ends the lesson. You note the work to be turned in, due date, assigned reading. Just as you’re about to finish tossing everything into your bag, you get a text. The psych guys want you for another sleep study. You tell them you can daytime sleep Tues or Thurs or Fri til 5. Great. They take all 3.
Cool. You may actually have some free cash for a few weeks. Maybe you can splurge on new shoes.
Monday night at the gas station is quiet. They usually are. Coffee keeps you coherent enough to make correct change and clean things properly. You have enough time to get home, clean up and hit the psy lab by 6am. They are to wake you 2 so you can make your class in plenty of time.
Mercie is the girl that wires you up to the machines. She hands you the sleep mask and fluffy blanket. It doesn’t take you long to go to sleep having come off your caffeine high a couple hours ago.
The alarm goes off and you bolt upright to a seated position in the bed, gasping for breath.
“Tell me quickly.” The green haired man encourages you to speak.
“I was fighting for my life. There was a battle. It was primitive. There were swords and long spears and huge axes with blades bigger than your head. A woman had fire coming from her fingers killing a man. I could smell his flesh burning. I stabbed bad people with my spear. I had to help my friends. We were fighting…um…a gang? thieves? They were hurting people nearby. My friend was hit by a spear and I killed the guy that hit him. Then I was…touching my friend’s stab wound. Light came from my fingers and I watched the hole in his side close up.” You sat there, staring at your hands. They were your hands but no longer covered in blood. You were grimacing as hard as you were in the dream, concentrating on your hands. But they did not glow.
“What else? What about the land?” His disinterested voice demands more.
“It was in a wild undeveloped area. No buildings. Just trees and rocks and bushes. We were fighting our way up a hill. Some of us going up one side, some going the other. I could hear them fighting on the other side of the hill. We were going to meet at the top. I couldn’t wait to see the leader, I kept looking for her blue hair. I knew she was the best fighter ever and would do everything to keep us safe.”
“Anything else?” His last follow up question.
“It’s faded a lot now. So much blood everywhere. The smells, they were awful. Metal banging on metal was so loud.”
He stands and stretches. “Thank you.” He says as he closes the door behind him.
You get dressed and grab your stuff heading for your afternoon class. Why are you suddenly dreaming? You don’t remember dreaming much before since you were a kid. This was a nightmare. You didn’t drink anything. You had slept over 7 hours, that’s the longest you’ve slept in…months? If the nightmares keep up, you’re not sure this is worth the extra cash.
After class you head home. You don’t feel as exhausted as you normally do, so you work ahead on a class or two. Most of the time homework can be done while you’re at the gas station counter.
Class in the morning is boring. Only a few more weeks to suffer before you get a break. Heading home you lay in your bed. You want to sleep. You really, really do. But now you’re afraid if you close your eyes, will the dreams continue? You grab your accounting book and start reading. You wake up with your alarm going off so you can get ready to head to work tonight. You do not dream, not even a about spreadsheets.
Work is uneventful. Mostly the same people coming in to buy the same things. Taking deliveries of different foods and replacing the purchased items on the shelves. Completing homework as time allows. Finally, it is time to clock out as the next shift comes in to deal with the daytime crowd.
You hit the bus, get to your room, swap out what you don’t need with what you do, toss your backpack on and head out to the Psych lab. You’re wired up and under the blanket. You feel a bit anxious about sleeping, however it is totally dark and the humming of the machines soon overtakes your thoughts and you fall asleep.
You awaken to hear the same guy as before asking you to talk.
Not opening your eyes you go through what happened.” There was a battle but not a real battle. Everyone is fighting but you aren’t really trying to kill each other. The weapons are fake. The magic is real but not seriously real. It reminds me of watching football practice. Each team wore their colors and are trying to beat up the others. The yellow team wins and everyone goes to a party. The blue haired leader lady said I had done a great job. She asks me to have tea and wants to talk about joining her house. Is she leading a fraternity? I woke up as I was helping clean up the mess after the party.”
“Tell me where this happened.” He asks.
“Well, the battle was on a big open field. There was a hill that someone could pull a lever and fire stuff at others. Scattered clumps of trees here and there, where some people would hide. It was a long walk to get to the field there. When walking I spoke with a grayish haired guy that would talk about stories he read about knights and do gooders. Oh, and on a big hill were three people with bright green hair. A man, woman and a younger shorter girl. They were watching. But they did not go to the party after. The party was in the dining area back at the school.”
You’re dressed, your hair feels sticky, so you put on a baseball cap with the university logo on it and head to your janitorial job. Mind numbing floor sweeping, mopping, and emptying trashcans fills your night. You are glad you had a good sleep at the psych lab, because it’s a short night tonight after getting off at 3am and having a class again at 8am the next day, you make it, like any other college student.
Grabbing something awful to eat after class, you head back to the third floor in the psych building for the last sleep of this week.
You wake up completely and totally freaked out. What a nightmare. Walking forever in the rain until you are soaked through, your skin all cold and wrinkly, and now you go into the creepy tower with the rest of the Blue Lions. You’re on the blue team. An older woman is the teacher, you wish you had the blue haired lady, she was so awesome.
Everyone creeps around and around going up higher in the tower while bad guys are firing arrows and popping out of hidden spaces. You remember using magic. You concentrated and this circle with marks on it appeared in your vision and next thing you know you shot lightning out of your fingers at a monster. A horrifying monster. It used to be a mean ugly guy but he changed and got big and evil looking, like a T-rex heavy on the claws and teeth. Everyone is fighting for their lives.
The worse part is one of them was his brother and had to get something back for his family. There was so much blood. Everyone was freaked out, especially the guy that killed his brother. It was horrible. By the time you finished talking to Linny, you were shaking and holding yourself. He just kept saying it was only a dream and told you that you would be fine.
You head to classes trying to best to concentrate.
Normally the job of polishing floors is nice. The machine does all of the work, you just change out the heads to clean then polish. The hallways here lead to rooms that have been reset for a large Art show presenting the student’s works. Many of the students are in your way, hauling in stands and setting up displays of their work. You keep looking down, studying the polishing machine. You can’t look at most of the artwork it, reminds you of the monsters you’ve dreamed of, or swords, or there is blood everywhere. What happened to fields of flowers? Paint a bowl of fruit or something bland.
You clock out at 3 am, head back to your room and crash burying yourself under a ton of blankets. One class today then you don’t have to be back to the university until 6pm. You need to hide in your bed. You are mentally exhausted. You need to sleep, so you down some cold medicine and it knocks you out.
Sleep is not kind. You aren’t in the lab, you are in the safety of your own bed. The dreams, okay, nightmares continue. Some girl is missing. Everyone is trying to find her. The Blue Lions leave to find some item and fight monsters, when you come back they found her, some other gal that was missing, and a creepy skeleton looking guy on a horse fought them in the basement. Ugh. You remember that head someone had on a stand in the art class, with the red glowing eyes. At least before you woke up you remember having tea with the blue haired professor and you agreed to join her group. She also gives you nice flowers for your birthday. You wake up just after tea was over.
You’ve never dreamed before. What the hell. You aren’t getting paid to dream at home. You don’t want this. What can of worms have they opened on you? You want your regular dreamless close your eyes, sleep, open them and go again. Not running miles and chasing horrible things and stabbing stuff and getting hurt and bleeding.
After class this morning the library is your destination today. Gotta get some references and info for a class. You stop by a quicky mart on the way. Need coffee. You’re not one of those fancy coffee kids, just creamer and go. You could care less what mountain they grew the coffee on as long as it is caffeine and keeping you awake.
Filling your cup with the elixir of consciousness, you see a girl with purple hair having problems with the whipped cream function of the expensive coffee and creamer dispenser.
You walk up to her. “Hey Bernie, want me to help?”
“Sure.” The girl says still punching buttons.
You fiddle with the machine knowing how temperamental they can be and get plenty of whip cream on top of her coffee.
She looks at me to say thank you, drops her books and screams. “Who are you? I don’t even know you!”
You shove a lid on her cup and put it in her hands. “Take your coffee.” Picking up her books, you stuff them in her arms. You head for the checkout. Your brain is confused too. You don’t know her, but she’s in the dreams and it’s her, Bernadetta.
Heading to the library you pull out your laptop and begin working on a project for class. You keep your head down, concentrate you keep telling yourself, but pieces of the dreams creep up on you every time you try to focus. Writing a few sentences, you click on an arrow on your laptop screen. You remember Bernie shooting arrows and she’s an amazing archer along with Ignatz. They love to paint. You wonder what it would look like if they did something together.
Concentrate. Fingers on the keyboard. The page is filling with text, the project is coming along. You need to find another book for reference. Signing into the library website you search for its location. You find the book and take it back to your seat. Flipping through it you find the section you want. Inside there is a postit note:
“Don’t bother with this. It’s wrong. See…” It lists a book you passed on, thinking this would be better. Perhaps the mysterious postit writer has been through this class and is saving everyone else from the same headaches. Nice. You get up and trade out books. This one does have exactly what you are looking for and your project speeds forward. You flip through the book once you’re finished with its contents and surprise! Another postit. “Bonus: Check out…”
You are enraptured, of course you go to find the next book. It is even better than the last one. The section related to your task has a note. “BTW, don’t quote that last book, Prof hates it. Do this instead. The curious get the rewards!” OMG. This is the greatest stuff. But the game is over, no more notes, you even check behind the last one. It did keep you entertained and focused though, a great help or you may have never finished this.
Saving everything and backing it up onto the cloud you have enough time to toss your stuff into the employee lockers and get your janitorial getup on. Baseball cap and earbuds in, it’s time for 8 hours of cleaning up after everyone else.
Building 3 is the party hub of the campus. At least they cleaned up some of the party decor, floor vents contain no cake, but they still leave a mess. You have to wash down the walls.
About 1:30am a dark haired guy with a ponytail comes in all frazzled asking if I’ve seen a red headed guy passed out somewhere. Nope. We both check the balcony and there he is out on a plastic chair. It is heartbreaker Sylvain.
You ask for help picking him up to get him to a standing position. You tell his buddy to hold him still. Throwing your right shoulder into his crotch you grab his left arm and throw it over your opposite shoulder. Sylvain is now up over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
His buddy gets the door and elevator for you. When the door opens there is a wheelchair close by and you dump Sylvain into it.
“How’d you know how to do that?” His friend asks.
“I’ve carried him before.” You answer as you help wheel Sylvain to the car. You help pour him into the front seat and reach over the seatbelt to his friend.
“Good luck. He’s your problem now.” You mutter as you turn around and head back to work.
At least this time he wasn’t bleeding you think. Wait. You’ve carried Sylvain before, during a fight. To get him to safety. That was Felix who came to get him. When you carried him, you were in leather gear and had more muscles. It reminds you of highschool wrestling. You did that for a few years. It felt so right doing that, but this college doesn’t have women’s wrestling, so you left it behind. It was how you got the job in janitorial because you are a female that can lift and move heavy weights, doing it the right way and not getting hurt.
Finishing your shift it is early Sunday morning. You go home, sleep, and dream.
You’re playing chess with Hubert. You’re beating him and he is pissed. He threatens you with cheating, distracting him, etc. You laugh at him. He’s always threatening someone or something.
Byleth comes in and ends the game. You head to a war meeting with the rest of the Black Eagles Strike force. Now that Byleth has returned Edelgard wants to recapture the great bridge at Myrddin.
After the meeting you head out to the training area for magic users. Warming up with a few Thunder spells, you work through Thoron then Bolting. The magic flowing through you feels amazing, you are one with the forces of nature.
You can feel the cold flowing from your fingertips as you cast blizzard at a target. Casting Fimbulvetr you watch as a solid ice grows around and surrounds the target.
Taking a few cleansing breaths, you then cast sagittae, the arrows breaking chunks of ice off of the target. Agnea’s Arrow finally strikes the ice, causing bright flames releasing steam into the area. The ice and target are obliterated.
You feel a good exhaustion come over you. Practice complete, you head to your quarters to complete additional research for some spells you have been working on.
The next moment you are on the bridge, fighting Alliance fighters and a few former classmates. Byleth has you stationed further away from the students, your goal is to take out a number of heavily armored ground troops and clear the way to Judith, leader of the enemy forces. Your fingers spark with electricity as your favorite spells are prepared. You remind yourself to keep your jubilant shrieks to yourself, in the last battle Hubert chastised you for frightening Bernadetta.
You wake up in your bed. This time you are not revulsed by the fighting. It felt thrilling. That scares you more than when you were upset and afraid. Things are so different in this dream. Byleth is a woman. But you’ve seen them before as a man. You know Edelgard was your enemy before, but this time you practically worship the ground she walks on. You remembered the singular focus you had in the dream. Nothing to distract you from your goal. You would forgo sleep, train well into the night.
Why were you playing chess with Hubert? Oh. He had tricked you, saying that chess is training of the mind to think more strategically. You thought he was trying to keep you out of the training grounds for a while. He’s always playing mother hen over everyone, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.
Sitting up in your bed you shake your head. That was not part of the dream. It felt more like a memory. Are these dreams making you delusional now? You would like to get off this mental merry-go-round.
The next two weeks are filled with working nights, classes or sleeping during the day. Your bank account is getting fat. Your brain is not doing so well. Things from your dreams hit you during the day. Stopping at the cafeteria of the college, you look down at your tray of obviously poor choices. Mercedes voice is in your ear, suggesting that you eat more vegetables. You swear you can hear Manuela tell you to put the pie back on the shelf and get brussels sprouts, dark greens are much healthier for you.
You wear hoodies to class now that the weather is getting a bit colder. Tying the hood around your face to block your peripheral vision helps you concentrate on where you are going. Otherwise you feel like you recognize so many people.
Yesterday, while in the cafeteria you ate your oatmeal with extra raisins and apples, less sugar, thank you Marianne, when you heard a male voice over the rest of the throng. You knew it was Ferdinand. He was being boastful and incredibly proud of his stance on the subject, as a noble should be. It had to be him. Gulping down your food you grab your carton of 2% milk and head out the door to take the long way around to class.
Being a lab rat for the psy group seems to be getting easier. It is like you slip into an alternate universe in the past. Everyone there has the right names and faces, while here in the future, most of them don’t know themselves as you do.
Linny gets lazy about writing down everything. He simply records everything on a laptop and someone else can transcribe it. He sits in his chair, folds his arms and drifts off to sleep to the sound of your voice telling of your dreams.
It is getting harder to keep your accounts of what happens in the dreams simple. You know everyone’s names, the weapons, the enemies, the spells. You feel the need to translate them into something that relates to modern equivalents. You are also trying to be careful about revealing just how deep you are into these…are they just dreams? Memories? Recollections?
Finishing your recitation of the dream, Linhardt is asleep again. Linny!! It’s Linny now. You poke him in the ribs where you know he is ticklish, he quickly wakes and demands that you stop. You ask him to unhook the wires so you can head out. Taking your envelope, you head out to the ATM, deposit the cash then get ready for work.
Noting the amount of posters on the walls for the party in Student housing building 3, Claude is going to have a huge mess for you to clean up. Finishing work on the admin building you head over to whatever disaster awaits you after the party.
The common area and meeting room used for the event are not the worst you have seen. They even bagged up most of their trash. Hauling in a huge plastic dumpster on wheels, you load up the bags to make room to maneuver. Wiping down the tables and chairs you stack and move them to make mopping easier.
“Hey, hope things are better this time, Janitor.” Claude announces as he walks into the room.
“It’s nice. Thanks.” You mumble, surprised that he is here.
“I know we left a huge mess before, so I put Hilda in charge of cleanup.” He has that smirky grin on his face. It’s funny how some things never change. He’s still handsome too.
“I bet she was pissed that you’re making her work.” You say without thinking.
“She was.” Claude nods. “You know her?”
“I..uh..know some people in common.” You answer, wiping a table harder. Claude has always been intensely curious and you are now on his radar. Great.
“You look familiar. I can’t recall where I know you from.” Claude’s voice trails off as he puts his hand to his chin and thinks.
“I have pretty common looks. One head, two eyes with bags under them from lack of sleep. Same as most students.”
Claude sits cross-legged on one of the not too dirty tables, making himself at home. He is staring at you, his chin resting on his fist.
You finish the tables and chairs, except for the table that is occupied and sweep the largest chunks from the floor.
“Please tell me you are not majoring in sanitation or building maintenance.” Claude finally speaks.
“I thought you fell asleep.” You shake the broom onto the building pile of crumbs and debris. You answer him, “No.”
“Too simply dressed to be arts. Rocket scientist?” Claude asks, raising an eyebrow. “You hang out in the science and mathematics buildings.”
“Allergic to RP-1.” You answer, sweeping the crud into a dustpan and heading to the janitorial closet for a mop and bucket. As you emerge with your tools, Claude is in the hallway waiting for you.
“Thank you for an engrossing and in depth conversation.” He yawns and stretches his arms. “Next time don’t talk my ear off.”
Giving a happy sigh of relief you finish cleaning and reassembling the room into its standard configuration. Finishing for the night you grab a shower and head home for a nap and a homework filled day.
Sunday night at the gas station starts off with the normal routine. Delivery trucks unloading overpriced snacks, little old ladies holding up the line while they dig out exact change from their purse, kids dumping sodas on the floor. Past midnight the customers are few and far between. The door sounds and you look up from your bookwork. Some guy with messy red hair starts to come in, turns around and yells at whoever is in the car parked outside in the handicapped spot.
He turns around and faces you. First, you see the gun in his hands. Second, you look at his face and see Miklan.
“Hands up, Bitch. Listen or you are fucking dead.” He snarls, waving the gun.
You put your hands in the air alongside your head. A gunshot rings out, you hear the bullet hit the wall behind you, just over your head.
Miklan snickers, “Yup, loaded. Open the fucking cash register then get back.” He orders.
You open the till then push your back into the cigarettes displayed behind you. He climbs on the counter, reaching in the drawer, looking to grab the cash, but still pointing the gun at you. You keep your hands up, moving them in familiar positions as you softly mouth the words.
An incredibly bright flash of light goes off in front of you combined with a near deafening boom. Miklan’s body flies in the air, landing on his back on the floor. The entire store goes dark. The car outside flashes its lights, then backs up, crashing into a gas pump and speeds off.
You grab your cell phone out of your bag, thrilled when the screen lights up. Calling 911, they say they are on the way. In minutes police, a fire truck and ambulance arrive. They let you grab your belongings and take you outside away from the building under a nearby streetlight. You see camera flashes coming from the building as the ambulance hauls a stretcher inside. An officer speaks with you for a while, telling you to relax and saying a lot of nothing. They frequently ask if you are okay. Your voice shakes and you are visibly trembling from the experience.
After almost an hour they make you lock up the building (minus one Miklan) and take you to the station for questioning. You call your employer while riding in the car. They will handle the store, they are happy you are alive. Take off the rest of the week with full pay.
At the police station you tell them what happened. He came in, shot the gun, you opened the drawer and while he was taking the money something electrical must have happened because there was an electric flash and the whole building went dark. You try to describe the car that was parked outside. You never got a look at the driver.
The police thank you for your cooperation, giving you a cup of coffee, a Danish, and a ride home. You head up the stairs to your apartment and unlock the door. Turning on the light you notice an unmarked envelope on the floor. Nervously you open it. Inside is a slip of paper that says:
“We need to talk. -B.”
You fall onto your bed. You know the handwriting. Its them. Byleth is here, now. There is nothing else on the paper. No phone number. You have no idea what to do next. The only thing you can think of doing is wait. Since it is 3am, you may as well try to sleep. For seeing a dead body for the first time in this life, you are more relaxed about it than you feel you should be.
You wake up to your phone announcing a text message. You sit up and see you have 3 unread messages from an unknown number. You take a deep breath.
[8:00] Hey
[8:05] Wake up
[8:07] Wakey, wakey
I’m up. [8:07]
[8:08] Blue Prius outside, get in and take a ride
Every alarm in your head is going off telling you that this is a bad idea.
Give me a couple minutes to get ready. [8:08]
Stepping outside there is the Prius. As you arrive you open the door to see a huge man hunched over the wheel. He is so large part of him is in your seat. You close the door as you wonder how he got into the car in the first place. You move his elbow away to put on your seatbelt.
“Heya pal.” He says.
“Balthus?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“The one and only.” He smirks and hits the gas so hard you fly back in your seat.
He takes you downtown. You are glued to the seast, white knuckled, hanging on to the door handle as he drives like a maniac. You can’t say anything because your heart is in your throat. He suddenly stops in front of a large, unmarked brick building with a 16 above the door.
“Go on ahead, it’s going to take me a while to get out of here. Elevator is through the doors, fourth floor.” Balthus grunts as he opens the door and begins to unfold himself to get out of the tiny car.
As you step up to the door you hear it unlock. Going inside there is no doorman, no security, simply a hallway that leads to the elevator. Punching the up button, you wait. Checking your phone there are no new texts. The doors open and you go inside, hitting the 4thfloor button. You are shaking with excitement, nervousness, dread and who knows what else. As the doors open, they reveal an elegant and very tasteful office setting. Behind a high counter you can’t recognize the person sitting there until they stand up and smile widely at you, holding out his hand.
“Hi. Just call me Gavin. I’m sure you know me as-“
“Gatekeeper!” You gasp and laugh, shaking his hand warmly.
He hits a button on the desk and a voice on the intercom responds, “Okay.”
The door on the other side of the room clicks and opens.
“You can head on in now.” Gavin gestures to the slightly open door.
You walk to the other side of the reception desk and the door is open to a richly wood paneled hallway. The door on the other end of this hall opens as you approach. You pull the door the rest of the way open, stepping in to see Byleth sitting in a large comfortable office chair and Yuri partially seated on the top of the desk on the opposite side.
“Welcome to the fold.” Yuri holds his arms out wide.
You rush over to give him a huge hug, like you would any dear friend. Because he was? Is? You’re not sure, but you hug him anyway.
“I’m sure you have many questions.” Byleth folds his hands on his desk and looks at you, waiting for your response.
“I don’t get a hug?” You ask, holding your arms out.
Byleth stands and steps around the desk and hugs you, then looks down at you. “I apologize. I am not certain what you know and what you remember.”
“A lot. This is going to take a while.” You answer. “Can we drop the formal setting and sit somewhere comfy? With you behind the desk it’s like we’re back in school.”
“I’ll get us some coffee.” Yuri offers. “Cream only, right?”
“Yup.” You chime as Byleth leads you to an overstuffed corner couch in front of large windows that offer a great view of the city. You take a seat at one end and take your coffee, placing it on the end table next to you. Yuri and Byleth sit beside each other on the other end.
“So you two are together this time?” You ask.
“Yeah.” Yuri smiles as he takes Byleth’s hand in his own.
“Awesome. My favorite.” You nod.
“Just how much do you remember?” Yuri asks, tilting his head.
“I remember fighting alongside each of the houses. If I was not in the house when Byleth led them, they recruited me. Byleth was a male once, a female twice. Three times altogether.” You begin, then frown. “Strange. None of them are like the history books.
Yuri and Byleth look at each other for what seemed like a long time. Yuri bends over and hits a button on the telephone on the table.
“Gavin, order lunch to be brought in and make reservations for dinner. Cancel any remaining appointments for today. Thanks”
“Okay. Start from the beginning. Let’s say Blue Lions. What is your first memory with them?”
“I was staying at an inn, Remire Village. I just made it to the dining area and was stuffing my face full of food when Jeralt comes in all pissed off because these kids show up and they’re in trouble.” You begin. They let you keep talking. Yuri tents his fingers at times, mostly sits back sipping his coffee.
Byleth is spellbound as you begin. He stares into your face like he is reliving your memories with you. Well, they did live them with you. They were your best friend.
You tell them of the battle with Miklan, finding Flayn, Remire, the fall of Jeralt, the defeat of Solon, the battle of Garreg Mach, the five years of being without Byleth, reuniting for the Millennium festival, Dimitri’s madness, the battle at the bridge and Dedue’s return, the nightmare that was Gronder, Merceus and Enbarr.
You then go silent. You look at Yuri and Byleth. You grimace for a moment.
“BylethmarriedDimitri.” You cough into your hand. “I don’t remember much after that.”
Byleth sits back on the couch. “Fascinating.”
“You never told me that-“ Yuri begins to say until Byleth gives him a look that obviously says now is not the time for this.
A beep sounds from the telephone.
“Time for lunch.” Byleth says as he stands up.
You leave through a different door and are led to a dining room. The food smells delicious.
Over lunch you begin your questioning. “Okay, so was this all real? I know you merged with Sothis and everything, convenient to leave that out of the history books, but this actually happened? It’s not just dreams. I began to remember while dreaming, then it moved on to remembering while I was awake. The memories flooded my brain like a tidal wave.”
“Yes. It was real. It did happen. Several times.” Byleth answers you without hesitation.
“You kept reliving that part of your life over and over until you arrived at the best solution? That is fucking amazing. Hawking would've loved it.” You shake your head in near disbelief. “You were the archbishop, but the church isn’t around any more. I guess you just let that go away on its own. What are you doing now?”
Yuri comments about how well the meat is spiced and that they should order this dish again. You interpret this as new subject time.
“There was no mention of dragons or Agarthans in the history books. Did that happen?” You ask quietly.
Byleth nods, “Yes. It did. It was a fantastic combined effort to take them down. We agreed it was best left unwritten.”
The food is quite delicious. You try to think of more pleasant things to talk or ask about, your head spinning with this revelation before you.
“Who else remembers?”
“Just you.” Yuri answers.
“You gotta be shitting me.” Your jaw drops nearly to the table.
“Only you.” Byleth nods.
“Is anyone else supposed to remember?” You’re happy about these two, but you also hoped to speak to a few others. Reminisce about old times? Something like that.
Yuri explains, “Well, in the past we tried a few times, reincarnation is a thing actually. Most of you appear close to the same time. We had tried different ways of bringing through their memories. The problem was that when some remembered they mentally crashed. Now with counseling and medications being as advanced as they are we thought we would try again.”
“So then I volunteer to be a lab rat and something clicked…” Your voice drifts off as you recall the early dreams. .
Yuri continues, “When we read the reports of your dreams we were very excited. What we weren’t’ prepared for is how quickly it awoke the memories in you. We had no idea how you would respond.”
“You are a secretive creature, keeping mostly to yourself.” Byleth nods.
“We’ve been spying on you here and there.” Yuri grins. “You are so damn boring. Anyway, hiring you at the university made it easier to eavesdrop on your conversations.”
“What about the gas station incident.” You have a puzzled look on your face.
“That was all you.” Byleth shakes his head. “We had no idea that you could retain so much knowledge that you could actually cast spells. Crests have pretty much faded from existence. There are probably a few flickers here and there but nothing manifesting.”
You head back to the comfy couch, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. “So what now?”
“Well you can go on with your best life. You can work with us. What do you want to do?” Byleth shrugs. “We want to give your soul some closure. Maybe to be able to move on? Not like some creepy ghost or anything.”
Yuri winks, “Hey what about your love life? Do you remember much about it?”
You scrunch your face remembering what a mess it was. “Yes, I do. Ugh. I fell for Claude but had no chance because of supersexy female Byleth. I chased after Felix who was a good friend, but he was in love with Sylvain for forever. Then omg, can’t believe I am saying this, Hubert, and well, he was all over Ferdinand.”
They both look at you with a slight frown.
“I don’t know what order Byleth went through the different houses. I never remembered from one experience to the next. Now that I remember them all, I can certainly see what I didn’t before. A whole lot of ‘love is blind’ going on. Wanting something so much you can’t see the signs blocking your way.”
“How about now?” Yuri has that sly look about him. What a gossip.
“Working two jobs trying to pay for college and not be buried in debt, I have not dated. Ever.” You shrug. “It isn’t fair to someone else, we would have almost no time together. I work nights 7 days a week then school and homework. There is no time to breathe or eat, much less look for love.”
“Well, Byleth is unavailable.” Yuri moves a bit closer to him to assert his ownership. “You know Claude is quite curious about you, ‘Janitor’.” He taunts.
You roll your eyes. “What part of my life don’t you spy on?”
The three of you talk about fond memories, precious victories, even recalling a few of the tragic events.
“So you’ve poked a hole in my brain and all of my memories are out. What would you like to see me do? Wow. I feel like I just dropped a card into the Advice Box.” You laugh.
Byleth, who loved to answer these, sits up. “You should finish your degree and get your Masters.”
“Masters?” You groan, “I am dying right now, you want more? Degree, Masters, required internships and I’m already behind not being able to take things on full boat. I’ll be graduating when I’m 40.”
“Well, there’s a scholarship you may be interested in.” Yuri has his sneaky sneak face on. “You qualify of course. Pays for your schooling, housing, and monthly stipend. Funded by the Eisner foundation. Very private lot they are. More of a don’t call us, we’ll call you kind of group.”
You fall back onto the couch in shock. “W-why are you doing this?” trying to choke back tears.
“The usual.” He drawls. “Finally being able to catch up with old friends. Thank them for everything they’ve done. We would not be here without you. Hoping maybe you want to hang out with us. Maybe awaken a few others?”
“This is all beyond belief.” You shake your head. “If you asked me six months ago that I would be here with you two, talking over past lives. Wow. Do Seteth and Flayn come and visit?”
“They’re around.” Yuri gestures just vaguely enough to let you know yes, but that is not readily available information at this time.
“You are not planning on forming a vigilante superhero group or something weird like that are you?” You frown.
Yuri pouts. “You don’t want to be Lightning Lady or the silver bolt?”
“No.” you answer resolutely. “Masks freak me out these days. You should’ve seen some of the stuff in the art show. Made the Death Knight look like a fairy princess.”
Byleth stands. “We deserve a great dinner, care to join us at Dedue’s?”
“He’s here? Cooking? You bet!” You realize this is the beginning of something amazing.
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subbing-for-clones · 3 years
Text
Stranded Part 2
Savage Opress x Reader
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Word Count: 2.7k
WARNINGS: Mentions of death and decomposition, mental illness, fear terror and FLUFF
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       Savage's eyes fluttered open to the sun shining brightly through the trans-durasteel panes that decorated the walls seemingly without rhyme or reason. The little one was frying some kind of thin meat strips on the stove and sipping hot caf. Without turning her head, she called over to him.
"How ya feeling?"
"Not great but better."
She turned and strode over to him, still laying down.
"I couldn't do this yesterday but I can today."
"What do you mean..?"
    She placed her hands on his bare broad chest and closed her eyes. A warm tingling sensation wafted over him. It felt like sunshine, utter joy and flying all at once. When she pulled away her eyes were a little fuzzy.
"It takes a lot of energy but you can transfer your life force to something and heal it. I was kinda low yesterday," she turned matter-of-factly back to the stove.
    Savage had only ever had painful experiences when it came to using the force or having it used on him. He hadn't ever thought of it as anything other than a weapon. He wanted to ask about it but shy away from the topic. Instead, he stood and stretched. He didn't have an ounce of pain. This woman who found him once again amazed him.
While the two unlikely pair ate their breakfast, her eyes didn't leave him, slightly squinting.
"You haven't been like this very long?"
"No. I was altered by the witches of my home world."
"Huh. Did you ask for this?" truly curious she stopped eating.
"No." she cocked a brow at his response, waiting for an elaboration.
"My species is subservient to our women. We live separately and go through deadly trials to be chosen by one for breeding or whatever they want really." He continued eating as the information he provided was simply normal for him.
"Was this..." she waved her hand at his body. "For breeding?" his cheeks slightly tinged in a deeper gold.
"No. I was chosen to act as a weapon for one of the sisters. She abandoned me when I didn't live up to the expectation." the woman noted as his eyes darkened. Wanting to change his mood she lightened up.
"Well, I'm happy you're here Savage. You have much to learn in the ways of the force.. you're strong but your energy is incredibly dark but you... you do not feel that way....." she trailed off in thought and muttered, "certainly an enigma. Very interesting," she tapped her finger against her chin.
    Savage's heart fluttered. He had never received any kind of praise from a female before and he didn't really know how to process it. His flush only deepened when she once again undressed in his line of sight, slipping on a shorter, loose grey dress.
"When you've finished, dress and meet me outside,” she skipped out the door and shouted something unintelligible into the trees.
    Savage silently hoped she wasn't completely insane while he quickly washed the dishes for her. He pulled on his pants and his long black kilt. Remembering that she had cut off his shirt for a sling he huffed and left the tattered remnant. When he came out, he saw what could've been a scene in a holovid. She stood with under a ray of sunlight, skin shimmering in the glow with a bright smile gracing her face. Her hands were pressed to the forehead of a green Varactyl while a dozen small song birds of every color fluttered around her.
"I think I should call you 'princess,'" he stepped forward cautiously.
She giggled melodiously.
"Mira here won't hurt you I promise. You think I look like a princess?" she flushed and batted her eyelashes.
"More than anyone else I've ever seen."
She extended her hand out to Savage.
"Come here," she cooed. He slowly made his way to her and took her hand. It was soft and warm, she held it for just a moment, running her thumb over his knuckles.
"Do not be afraid. Mira is a friend," she placed his hand where hers was just a minute ago on the Varactyl's head.
"Close your eyes and reach out to her with the force. Gently."
    He stood there for a minute before he felt anything. All of a sudden it felt like wind was rushing around him. He could see trees flying past him and a breeze danced against his skin. He leapt from trees, gliding through the air.
    She watched with satisfaction as his and Mira's eyes were closed and their breathing synced slowly. She felt their signatures meld for a moment. Savage pulled his hand away and looked at her wide eyed but grinning. Mira chirped happily beside him.
"Good, you made the connection. Rather quickly I might add. Mira is a receptive one. Very friendly. She's been with me a couple years now."
"I...I felt what she feels when she hunts," he was smiling at the creature fondly.
"Yes, that seems to be a favorite time for her."
"That felt much different than any other time I've used the force.... was that the light side?"
"I'm sure the Jedi would say yes but I am no Jedi. I don't see the force as light or dark."
Savage looked confused. Everyone called the force light or dark. The woman continued,
"Take a knife for example. In the wrong hands... a knife can take an innocent life, used to rob someone or threaten them other ways. However, in the 'right' hands it can be used as a medical instrument, carve wood or simply chop produce. I think of the force in the same way. The intent is what matters to me. Did you want to hurt Mira when you reached out to her?"
"No..no I didn’t," he stammered.
"That’s why it felt different."
    Savage understood what you were saying and turned back to Mira. The animal nudged him gently with her head affectionately.
"Let's go for a ride. I wanna finish stripping the ships you landed on. I haven't been to those ones yet. If you have anything else there, now’s a good time to get it."
    The woman strapped large bags onto the sides of the Varactyl. She hopped up onto Mira's back and once again extended her hand out to Savage. He climbed up and took his seat behind her. When Mira lurched forward, he gripped the woman's waist tightly so he wouldn't fall off and she laughed.
"Hold on tight handsome it's not a long ride but it's a turbulent one."
"A-alright princess."
      The added weight did nothing to slow Mira down. She was light on her feet and graceful. Leaping high into the air and gliding back down into the canopy. Princess whooped and cried out in excitement whereas Savage just held her tighter. His chest swelled with the rush. He was terrified but also having fun. He was a little disappointed when it ended and the ships were in sight. He slid off first and held his hands out for the princess. She beamed down at him and let Savage lift her by her waist with her hands on his shoulders. Her breath hitched when he pulled her down to him to set her on the grass underfoot. Quickly turning away to hide the heat rushing to her face.
"Alright, anything you wanna take, toss it in the bags. I'm gonna look through some of the others.”
    They parted. Savage always traveled light so he didn't have much to take with him. Some extra med gear and clothes, that was it. He hesitated in the cockpit looking down at the talisman that Mother Talzin gave him. It lay in pieces. He exhaled a silent apology, acknowledging that he probably wouldn't find his brother anytime soon. He slipped the pieces gently into his pocket and made his way out. After securing his few belongs in the saddle bag on Mira, he turned around to look for the princess. He could sense her nearby but couldn't see where she was.
"SAVAGE!"
He ran back to the hazardous pile of crashed ships.
"WHERE ARE YOU?"
He sighed relieved when she popped out behind his transport smiling ear to ear. His heart still pounding.
"It’s not huge but there's a Kriffing cargo ship buried under your transport and a fighter. Help me lift them. Cargos are gold mines."
    She stood shoulder to shoulder with him; well, shoulder to rib. Both of their arms were raised. It was shaky at first but they managed to move Savage’s large transport off to the side with the force. The fighter was much easier to shift. She grabbed his wrist and cried out excitedly, pulling him along to the sealed door.
"Could you cut it open with your saber?"
He smiled as she watched him ignite his saber and cut through the thick durasteel.
"Yes! Cutitopencutitopencutitopen!" she chanted excitedly and squealed.
Once he kicked the obstacle out of their way she shrieked and dove practically head first inside. When he entered, he was hit with the heavy scent of death. Four Weequay bodies lay scattered and half rotted around the cargo bay. Savage covered his nose with a disgusted look on his face.
The woman however didn't seem bothered by it as she sifted through the containers.
"This was a pirate ship... I haven't seen many of those," her whole top half was inside a rather large container while she spoke.
"Usually lots of credits, jewelry, spice.... not really useful to us right now but if we ever make it out of here, we'll be rich." He made his way to the sleeping quarters and took the standard med gear and hygiene supplies that was fairly standard to each room.
    When he came out, he found her pleasantly surprised as she held up some lovely dresses in bright colors to her form.
"I think I can tailor these to fit..." more thinking out loud than actually talking to him. She walked deeper, into the cockpit and tried to fire up the engine to no avail. She didn't have hope, it looked like they nose-dived into the ground anyway. She sighed and checked the common area.
    Rations, some cook ware in better shape than hers was, liquor... other odds and ends that would be decently useful. Savage found her holding a Sabacc deck.
"Do you know how to play?" She asked coyly?
"Yeah... some of the other nightbrothers taught me when I was a pup. Do you?" She shook her head.
"Well, I'll show you. We can play together." Her face lit up and something warmed in his chest that he'd never felt before. He pointed his thumb back towards the cargo bay.
"I found something you might be interested in.." she followed him; arms full. He fiddled with a small electronic box and powered it up.
"It won't connect to the net out here but it looks like there are some downloaded holovids,” he turned back to face her. She had dropped everything she was carrying and stared at him in amazement.
"I...I've never seen a holo-player out here before," he smirked.
"Well princess if you can charge it, we can see what's on it."
    The two of them loaded up what they had onto Mira. Princess did a thorough once over of the other ships. Finding a blaster with a decent amount of charges was the second best find next to the holo-player. They found a few sewing kits, more rations and med kits, and some crop seeds which also excited her.
They had ended up spending much longer than she wanted to searching through the wreckage. The sun was starting to set and it was falling fast.
"We need to get going. It gets dangerous at night... things come out.." she shifted uncomfortably on her feet looking up into the trees. Mira let out a quiet warning chirp. Savage lifted her up and put her on the Varactyl's back, climbing up behind her. This time when he held her waist it was more protective.
"I think I can sense them... what are they?"
Mira took off but it was slower, more cautious than when they came here to begin with.
"I don't know.. I've never seen them clearly. I know they have two arms, and three long sharp claws. Their hide is tough and... very rough. No fur.."
    Savage held his saber in one hand, not yet igniting it. He could see in the dark but these creatures still hid. The sky was a deep, dusty blue as dusk swallowed the atmosphere. It felt different at night. Like the air was hungry.
"I will keep you safe," he said as his eyes darted around. Once they broke the tree line it was only a short distance to the cabin. They unhooked the bags from Mira and she dashed behind the house up the barren hills, as far away from the forest as she could get. Savage and princess walked into the house.
"I've never seen them leave the forest. They've never come out of the trees into the clearing so the house and the yard are safe as well as the hot springs and hills behind us. Savage nodded in understanding.
"Stay here," his voice rumbled, "I'll fetch wood for the fire."
    She nodded before he left with his weapon in hand. Princess started putting away their various findings and set some rations out on the table. They were going to have to go hunting again tomorrow. She felt his shift in the force. Fear had a particularly unique wavelength. She took the blaster and right before could get to the door he kicked it open with his arms filled with wood. He hurried inside, dropped the wood and latched the lock. His face was blanched.
"Are you alright?" she asked slowly reaching for him.
"They just stood there. Behind the trees. Watching."
"You have night vision?"
He nodded and looked down at her.
"I... I’ve never seen anything like them. So.. gangly. Tall and.." he shuddered and shook his head, controlling himself. If she lived here for so long it was safe but when he turned back to face her, she had regressed.
"Beasts in the trees....." she still stood but her eyes were blown, her arms crossed over her chest; trembling.
"Beasts in the trees...." she repeated
He quickly gathered her up in his arms and sat on the bed. Her terror radiating off of her. He shushed her softly and rocked gently. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up to his.
"Come back to me princess," he whispered soothingly.
"It’s alright, you're safe. I will keep you safe. I've cut down bigger and scarier things in my life. My planet has a rancor infestation. I have you. It's alright," he continued to whisper and hold her until she came down. She splayed her hand on his chest over his hearts. Their strong beat acting as an anchor. She buried her face in his neck. Her breath hot on his skin.
That warm feeling pooled in his chest again. He ran his fingers across her forehead, swishing away the hair that had fallen over it. She finally pulled away to look into his eyes.
"T-thank you Savage... I don't know how much longer I could've lasted alone out here. I feel like I'm breaking as soon as the sun goes down." He thought about his next words carefully as he stroked her cheek.
"My people live in darkness. I have lived with and fought against its terrors all of my life. I swear to you I am strong enough to keep you from harm. Today I found myself... almost glad to have crashed here. Because of you, and what you can show me. But, mostly you princess," his face was hot. She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.
"We should eat. You especially. I imagine you're starving. The rations aren't bad with the hot sauce I found," she smiled coyly at him.
    They ate in a comfortable silence. This time he watched as she slipped off her dress out of the corner of his eye. A feeling of want tingling under the surface. When they crawled in bed together, she wrapped her leg around him and lay her head on his chest. Listening to his hearts beat while he held her close to him.
She stayed like that all night and for the first time in years, she slept through the night.
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lyranova · 3 years
Text
Children of the Future:
Chapter 2: Questions
Hi guys! Here’s chapter 2 as promised, I hope you guys like it I’m sorry if it isn’t very good 🥺. Again Hikari isn’t mine nor is Josslyn or Ace ☺️! Anyway I hope you all enjoy!
Taglist: @eme-eleff (if anyone wants to be added please let me know 🥺!)
Word Count: 2,236
Warnings: None
———
This was not how Charlotte thought today was going to go. She didn’t expect to be standing in front of the Black Bulls base with Yami and their daughter, Hikari, she had hoped it would just be a simple meeting with Julius and then she would go back to the Blue Rose Knight headquarters and be able to finish her paperwork, but instead she was hit by this curveball. She watched as Yami hesitated to walk into the hideout, which somewhat confused her since he was normally such a confident man.
“ Oh boy,” he sighed as he scratched the back of his head. “ This is going to be one pain in the ass.” He shook his head before he placed a hand on the door knob.
“ They’ll understand. Even if they have a hard time with it at first.” Hikari told him with a nod, she had to admit she was a little unsure herself, especially if she was in the year that she thought she was in. She looked at both her parents out of the corner of her eye; they weren’t together yet it seemed. She watched her father and mother, well, Charlotte and Yami since she didn’t think they would really feel comfortable about being called mom and dad at the moment.
The loud rambunctiousness of the Black Bulls instantly quieted once both Captains and Hikari walked in, Luck and Magna were fighting as usual, Vanessa was drinking as normal, and the others were eating while trying to dodge Magna and Luck’s battle. Yami looked over at the two.
“ Hey knock it off!” He said loudly, the two boys stopped instantly, all the Black Bull members frowned in confusion and came over to the three standing by the door.
“ Um, Captain Yami? Why is Captain Roselei here?” Asta asked in confusion, causing Hikari to smile slightly, as an adult he hadn’t changed at all since he was a kid. The others nodded.
“ Well, it’s kind of a long story.” Yami said with a sigh. Charlotte nodded in agreement.
“ Oh, did we get a new member? Is that why the Wizard King sent for you?” Vanessa asked as she spotted Hikari, instantly Finral’s eyes lit up in the way they usually did when he saw a pretty girl.
“ Hello! My name’s Finral, and might I ask what your name is beautiful?” Finral asked as he came over to Hikari, who only blinked in confusion, this Finral was definitely not the same one she grew up with! Yami instantly turned and grabbed the top of Finral’s head tightly, he glared at the young man.
“ Finral, do me a favor? Stay away from my daughter!” He growled out before moving Finral back toward the group once the spatial mage had nodded in agreement. Charlotte couldn’t suppress the small smile that slid across her face; he only knew Hikari for a couple of hours, and yet he was already protective of her. It was adorable and was added to the long list of things she loved about this man.
‘Wait, no, how can you even think of that four letter word right now Charlotte?!’ Her brain screamed at her, she shook her head to clear it and felt her cheeks burn slightly. She sighed as the young Spatial mage instantly backed up and sat with the others.
“ Yes sir Captain Yami!” He replied in a shaky voice. Yami sighed as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth. Hikari cleared her throat and looked at him.
“ Didn’t I already tell you those are bad for you?” She asked with a glare similar to Charlotte’s, Yami glared back, neither he nor Hikari were backing down.
“ That’s enough you two.” Charlotte scolded as she stood between them, Yami sighed for the third time that evening but he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, leaving Hikari smiling triumphantly.
“ Wait...Captain Yami? Did you say ‘daughter?’” Asta asked suddenly, picking up on the detail everyone seemed to miss in the Captain's statement to Finral. Yami looked away as the Black Bulls looked from him to Hikari and back again.
“ WHAT!!!!” They all shouted in unison before suddenly surrounding the girl and asked a million questions, some were asking who her mother was, some asking her age, and a bunch of other questions she couldn’t quite catch.
“ Alright that’s enough you guys.” Hikari said in a commanding tone, similar to Yami’s, all the Black Bulls behaved instantly and stopped their questioning. Hikari laughed softly, they were even scared of her in this year, just like they were at home. She must be more like her father than she imagined.
“ Now, one question at a time. First, yes I really am his daughter. Second, I’m from the future not a ‘one night stand’ nor a ‘secret love child’. Third, I’m 19 years old.” Hikari continued down the list until she came to the last question. “ As for my mother, well…” she trailed off while looking at Charlotte, who blushed instantly.
“ WHAT!!!” They all shouted again, causing the Captains and Hikari’s ears to ring. Why were they always so loud?
“ But Captain isn’t she…?” Finral trailed off, trying to find the right words so he didn’t make the Captain angry.
“ Out of your league?” Zora finished, causing everyone to blink at him. Yami just rolled his eyes, he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Zora was right; Charlotte was out of his league, she deserved someone better than him. She deserved someone of high status such as herself, but again, he would never admit this.
“ Listen brats, right now we’re all pretty tired and are trying to process all of this. How about you guys go get some sleep, while the Prickly Princess and I talk to our kid.” He ordered, the Black Bulls nodded before Noelle suddenly paused.
“ Sir, may we ask more questions tomorrow? If we have any that is.” Yami shrugged and pointed a thumb toward Hikari.
“ That’s up to her.” He said, she watched as all the Black Bulls had slight hope in their eyes. She couldn’t help but laugh. Nope, they hadn’t changed at all.
“ Of course, although, there may be some things I can’t tell you.” She told them in a light hearted but serious tone, the members all nodded before heading to their respective rooms.
Yami walked over to the couch and sat down with a tired sigh, that's all he seemed to be doing right now was sighing. Charlotte and Hikari sat down as well and all was silent, none of them knew who should start the conversation and what questions to ask. Charlotte shifted uncomfortably in her seat, Hikari did as well. Yami watched the two, as far as personality went, Hikari seemed to be very much like him, but look wise she was identical to Charlotte but with dark hair. She also had similar mannerisms to the Prickly Queen as well, the way she tapped her foot on the ground in slight nervousness, the way she seemed to analyze her surroundings. There was no mistaking it; she was their child for sure.
“ So why are you here?” Charlotte finally asked, Yami was curious as well but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask that question. Hikari shrugged as she sat back in the chair and crossed her arms.
“ I’m not too sure myself to be honest,” She looked away and rubbed the back of her neck, just like Yami has done many times before. “ all I know is my parents told me I had to walk through the time gate and not to ask questions.” She told them as she looked away in thought, the memory probably flashing through her mind.
“ There must be a reason.” Yami said as he crossed his arms as well, Hikari nodded in agreement.
“ I’m sure there is, but they didn’t think to tell me, especially since they practically rushed me out the door. Whatever it was, it must have worried them.” Hikari said softly, the two Captains looked at each other. It was very rare the two of them seriously worried about anything, the last time the two had been worried was during the Dark Triad and the invasion of the Spade Kingdom.
“ Did you come alone?” Yami asked after a minute of silence, he wanted to change the subject just a bit, especially since he knew Hikari couldn’t tell them much about why she was sent here. Her Qi told him everything he needed to know, well, mostly anyway.
“ Yeah, I was supposed to come with my little sister Hana. But the portal pulled me in before I could grab her, I’m not sure if she walked through it afterwards or not.” Hikari said, her face full of worry, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if Hana had come through the portal and was now lost or injured. Just the thought of it upset her and made her want to go looking for her, but she didn’t even know if Hana had walked through the portal at all!
“ You have siblings?” Charlotte asked softly, she had to admit, it was surprising to think she even had one child with Yami, but now knowing she had two with him? That was beyond shocking, this had to be a dream! It had too!
“ Yes. But I won’t tell you how many, because y’know, spoilers and stuff.” She said with a mischievous wink, the kind when someone knew something you didn’t and would tease you about. Charlotte hmphed and sat back, almost as though she were pouting.
“ Oh also, you can’t ask me how or when or even if you two get together. Because of spoilers and the possibility of it affecting my timeline negatively.” Hikari added. Yami frowned.
“ How do you know about all of this?” He asked curiously.
“ Well, this was all the information I was told when I was being dragged to the portal. You of course were the one who told me, as for who told you, well you’d be surprised.” She laughed.
“ Let me guess, ‘spoilers’?” Yami asked in irritation, when the girl nodded he shook his head. He suddenly turned and looked out the window, the sun was going down.
“ I should be heading back, tomorrow we’re supposed to move into our new living quarters. I need to pack and prepare my squad.” Charlotte said as she stood and walked to the door. “ Will you be alright here Hikari?”
“ Of course! I already know where my room is by the way, I think I’ll go on ahead and head that way myself. I didn’t realize how tired I was until now.” Hikari announced standing up and heading towards the girls wing of the hide out. Yami stood and walked over to Charlotte, waiting until he knew Hikari was out of earshot.
“ Do you think she’s lying?” Charlotte asked in a hushed tone, Yami shook his head.
“ No. She’s telling the truth. But I do wonder, why would we send our kid through a portal without explanation?” He muttered, Charlotte looked in thought for a moment.
“ Maybe we didn’t have time?” She suggested, Yami nodded in agreement.
“ That’s probably the answer, but it leads to another question,” he looked at the blonde seriously. “ what was so dangerous that it made us send our own daughter away?”
—-
Hikari looked around the empty room, slight sadness in her heart; it was pretty empty save for a bed and desk. All the things she had added to it over the years were no longer there. But that was mostly because she didn’t exist yet, maybe she never would after all of this. She closed the door softly behind her and walked toward the bed and laid on it. Why didn’t her parents tell her what was going on? Why send only her through the portal? In fact, why send her to this year of all years? She growled in frustration. Why was the only question running through her head.
“ I need to get some sleep, otherwise I’ll be too tired to answer their questions.” She muttered to herself as she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes tightly, she silently hoped everyone would be ok, that they’d all be safe until she returned. As she slowly drifted off to sleep a bunch of faceless people flooded her mind, and a smile appeared on her face.
Three young girls, two with blonde hair and one with silver. A young girl with dark blue hair and brown eyes, her brother with dark brown hair and blue eyes and a stoic look on his face. Another young man with a small easy going smirk with pink hair and purple eyes. A young girl, her best friend, with pink hair and mint green eyes looked at her sternly, but did manage to smile. The last one, a young man with white hair and piercing blue eyes that held nothing but warmth in them, a soft smile on his lips as he looked at her. Her smile only widened.
Her friends, they would all be ok. She knew it.
——
Ah i hope you guys liked it! I’m sorry again it isn’t very good 😅. But anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and i hope you all have a good day~!
46 notes · View notes
spaceskam · 3 years
Text
From A Whisper To A Scream (6/10)
Summary: Michael has a support system whether he likes it or not.
Word Count: ~4k
Warnings: toxic people bein’ toxic lmao
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
ao3
Michael woke up to a hand on his forehead.
He jolted awake at the feeling of someone touching him, only for it to be Sanders sitting on the edge of his bed and looking insanely worried. It took a few seconds of heavy breathing, but Michael settled back into his mattress and balled up more in his blankets that were cocooning him. He felt a little less like he was going to explode with power than the last time he woke up, but he was still uncomfortable.
Then again, he would probably be uncomfortable for the rest of his life.
“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you lose control like that,” Sanders said. Michael squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. It was too early for that conversation. Technically, he didn’t know what time it was, but it felt too early. “You passed out on the floor.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael said. Sanders didn’t say anything, but the bed creaked as he moved.
“Sit up, drink some water.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’re going to drink it,” Sanders said, not room in his tone for argument, “And you’re going to eat. You need to flush whatever’s in your system out somehow.”
Michael peeked up at him again. So he knew something. How much did he know? That was a question Michael constantly found himself asking when it came to Sanders. He always seemed to know way more than he was actually willing to say.
“You’re not going to school. You’re going to stay here for a couple days until your system clears,” he said. Michael shook his head.
“No, I-I have practice and‒”
“Michael,” Sanders said, “I know you won’t tell me what’s goin’ on, but you ain’t goin’ anywhere. If your mama saw the way you were last night, she wouldn’t let you out of her sight, so I ain’t either. Not until I figure out why you feel like you’re gonna die.”
“My mom did let me out of her sight.”
“For your own good,” Sanders insisted.
Michael couldn’t help but disagree. Even if she had thought it was, he couldn’t imagine how the life he was leading was better than the time he didn’t get with her. It wasn’t fair at all and it never would be. He just wanted her. He wanted her more than he ever had before.
They were quiet for a moment before Michael eventually sat up a bit and drank the water he was forcing on him. Then he laid back down and Sanders didn’t leave. After a few more seconds of sitting in silence, Michael realized Dog was laying on his bed behind him, both Dog and Sanders seeming to have no intention of leaving him alone as if guarding him.
If only they knew that he wasn’t worth guarding.
“Michael,” Sanders said. Michael looked up at him again. He never used his name like that. “Is it a person?”
“Huh?”
“What you think is tryin’ to kill you, is it a person?” Sanders asked. Michael didn’t answer, but that seemed to do all the speaking for him. “We can grab a bag and go.”
“Sanders…”
“I got people across the country that know too much, Boy, I say I need a safehouse, I can find one,” Sanders said. And, once again, it was saying more than he ever really had before. Sanders didn’t talk about those years in between losing his makeshift family and coming back to Roswell to find him. Michael had just assumed he’d stayed angry and alone everywhere he went.
Apparently that wasn’t the case.
“No, they can track me and I don’t want to put you in danger,” Michael admitted. Sanders huffed a little laugh.
“Boy, you ain’t thinkin’ if you think I’m not already in danger,” he said simply. Michael balled up more. “Didn’t say it was ‘cause of you.”
“We can’t just leave.”
“How are they trackin’ you? If it’s your phone, we can trash that. If it’s somethin’ else, I know a guy up in Montana.”
Michael laughed softly, but it didn’t come without a wave of tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what was the right thing to do. Maybe he should just leave, but what would happen if Eff found him? Or if one of the many people Eff worked with? Or, worse, he took it out on someone else that he’d run away? 
“I can’t leave Isobel and Max.”
“Well, I can’t do much about that, but they ain’t my responsibility,” Sanders said. Michael sniffled and shook his head.
“I can’t leave, but you should. I-I don’t want you to be collateral damage,” Michael insisted, rubbing his eye with his fist. Sanders laughed bitterly and his hand gripped Michael’s shoulder.
“I don’t usually like you thinkin’ I’m old, but I am. I promised to keep you safe and if somethin’ happens to me doin’ that, then I ain’t collateral damage. I’m just doin’ my job,” he said like it was simple. Michael sniffled and shook his head.
He hated this. He hated this so fucking much.
“I need to go back to school Tuesday and act normal, go to my games and practice and pretend it’s not bothering me,” Michael said, wiping his face, “It’ll buy me time to figure out what to do. I just, just have to be on my best behavior.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Michael said, taking a deep breath, “But can you do me one favor? Don’t let Alex come over.”
Sanders looked at him in confusion for a moment, but something akin to understanding dawned on him and he nodded. Michael wasn’t sure what exactly he got from that, whether he assumed Alex was at fault or if he jumped to the idea that he was protecting him. Somehow, it was both and neither at the same time.
“Alright, Boy, I trust your judgement. I’mma go make you somethin’ to eat, stay here.”
Michael had no desire to move.
-
Alex liked having Flint around, he really did, but the silence outside of the clink of silverware was deafening.
He kept looking between Flint and his father, waiting for something to happen. He knew they wouldn’t speak about the business in front of him, but he thought they’d do something. Instead, it seemed to be full of just them staring at each other and angrily eating. If it was anything other than father and son, Alex would’ve assumed he was intruding.
Hell, part of him still felt like he was intruding.
“So, Alex,” his dad said, still not looking away from his brother, “You’re eighteen now.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said, nodding his head. 
It was weirdly formal, but his father hadn’t actually acknowledged his birthday on the actual day. He never really did, especially after his mom left. It seemed like he viewed it as a very rude reminder that his wife had left him. Alex was fine with not celebrating as long as it meant he didn’t have to deal with any backlash.
“Dad,” Flint said, voice stoic, “No.”
Their dad tilted his head as he looked to Flint with nothing but sheer contempt. Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The two of them stared at each other, seeming to hold a silent conversation all about Alex. He wasn’t a fan.
“In a few weeks, you and I are going on a trip,” his dad said, turning to Alex again. Alex nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Dad,” Flint said.
“What, Flint? You were 18, Gregory and Clay were both 18. Alex is 18, it’s time. He’s a grown man now,” he said. It was the first time he’d spoken like Alex had any agency at all and it was still involving his own decision about what Alex needed to do. Alex didn’t know whether to be excited or not.
“I can handle it,” Alex assured his brother, smiling softly. Flint didn’t smile back. All of his light excitement from the day before was gone and he nodded once before getting up from the table.
“Flint, get your ass back here and pick up your plate,” his dad instructed. Part of Alex expected Flint not to listen, but he still came back and picked up his plate. He rinsed it off in the sink and went to head back to the hallway. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Flint took a loud breath and turned again, picking up their father’s plate and rinsing it off just like Alex had done every night they had dinner together since his brothers moved out and he didn’t have anyone to share the duty with. It was a respect thing, his dad insisted.
However, as much as he loved his brother, watching Flint wash his father’s plate forced Alex to realize just how much his brother was still under their father’s thumb.
Alex couldn’t make himself eat anymore and, thankfully, it wasn’t a night where he was going to be forced to sit at the table the whole night. He pretty quickly finished up and made it back to his room where he immediately pulled out his phone. He hadn’t been able to talk to Michael all day‒it was torture.
Alex: i miss you :(
He tugged his pillow under his head and watched his phone, waiting for a response. However, as the time ticked by, he never did. Which was extremely out of character. He clearly hadn’t been feeling well yesterday, so maybe he’d been sleeping. But he hadn’t texted him all day…
Maybe Alex was being clingy. Liz and Maria were both so sure that he was moving too fast, so maybe he was. They were allowed to go a day without speaking to each other. Even if they hadn’t since they began hooking up… Well, that didn’t matter.
He waited and he waited until he got tired of waiting. He clearly wasn’t going to get a response.
And that was… fine.
-
Michael kept falling asleep.
He didn’t know how the hell he was even managing it when he was so stressed. He should be unable to do anything but stay awake and worry, but it seemed he just kept passing out. He wasn’t entirely sure Sanders wasn’t drugging him to make sure he slept it off.
Still, it felt good to be somewhat rested by the time Isobel came knocking. He didn’t even get the chance to sit up and properly greet her before he was climbing into his bed. She didn’t speak or scold or question him like he expected. Instead, she crawled beneath the covers and pulled them over both of their heads. He felt young again.
“I wasn’t just paranoid when I thought someone was watching me, was I?” Isobel asked in the safety of his blanket. Michael shook his head slowly and let the two of them sit in silence for a long stretch of time.
Michael didn’t really know what to say to her. He wasn’t going to say it had anything to do with Alex, that simply wasn’t an option. Isobel would blame him and Michael was pretty sure Alex had no idea. Eff seemed convinced that Alex had no idea and wanted to keep it that way.
“You shouldn’t be around me,” Michael said, “For your own safety.”
“What about your safety?”
“Not important.”
“Shut up,” Isobel said, scooting closer. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tugged his face into the crook of her neck. She was nothing but protective as she cradled him close, shielding him away from the world.
It’d been too long since he’d spent time with her, too long since he’d had his sister. Was a guy really worth all of this? Because he shouldn’t be. No one should be worth all of this. It should be easy to cut Alex off, to go back to just handling Eff and dealing with life. So why was it such an impossible thing to grasp?
“I need your help,” Michael murmured into the soft fabric of her shirt.
“What is it?”
“I need you to keep me from talking to Alex,” he said. Isobel froze for a moment. “It’s to keep him safe. I just… need reinforcements.”
“Okay, I can do that,” Isobel insisted. She held him still as she reached over to grab his phone. She fiddled around on it for a moment and he was pretty sure she blocked his number.
He should really talk to Alex to his face and tell him they couldn’t be together, that would be the right thing to do. But, really, was anything about this right? It didn’t feel like it. It was unfair and cruel and miserable, but he did this to himself. Michael had been reckless and this was his punishment.
Besides, he had Isobel and he had Sanders. He had no room to complain.
“Can I help with anything else?” Isobel asked cautiously. Michael shook his head, taking a deep breath.
“Just, when I go back to school, make sure I don’t do anything stupid,” Michael requested.
“God, Michael, I didn’t say give me a hard job,” she said, teasing to lighten the situation. He smiled and, though it didn’t last long, it was still welcome. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you.”
“Always.”
-
Walking into school was hellish.
Michael kept his head down and stayed close to Max and Isobel. Any time he was near Alex, he avoided him. In times when Max and Isobel weren’t around, he chose to stick by his teammates who welcomed him into the group without a thought. He just couldn’t be around Alex. He would cave and that would do no one any good.
But whatever Eff had put in him was now gone and he felt somewhat normal. Or, at least, not like he was a ticking time bomb. So that was good. It also helped that Eff hadn’t shown up to take him to the shed. That part, however, made him more paranoid than anything.
He was able to ignore Alex for a few days, but he should’ve known that that time was limited. This was Alex Manes he was dealing with‒he wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t oblivious either.
He showed up in his Calc class, his normal bored expression on his face. He never showed just anyone that pretty smile. That was sacred and special.
“Michael,” his teacher called, “Mrs. Doyle needs you, take your things.”
And Michael couldn’t exactly say no, could he? With a stifled sigh, Michael grabbed his bag and followed Alex out of the classroom. This was bound to happen anyway. They needed to talk.
Alex didn’t spare him a look over his shoulder as he led them to their spot. They hadn’t really hooked up in there lately, finding themselves much more reliably in Michael’s bed instead. But here they were, back in the dimly lit, abandoned office. And Alex didn’t show him his pretty smile which was probably a good thing.
“You blocked my number,” Alex said, not even bothering to beat around the bush. Michael’s eyes stayed on the ground. “What the fuck? Can’t even say you don’t want me to my face? You have to block me?”
“That’s not…”
“What? That’s not what? That’s what happened. And, look, feel free to fill in the blanks on what I did that pushed you away so fast. I mean, seriously? How do you go from building me a fucking car to blocking me in two days? What kind of bullshit is that?” Alex demanded. Michael closed his eyes and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Okay, so maybe he should’ve prepared for this conversation more.
“I just… Need space,” Michael said slowly.
“See, that’s what I thought too, at first. Oh, he just needs fucking space, cool, fun, fine,” Alex said, “But then I was like, no, my boyfriend wouldn’t do that without telling me. Then you blocked me. That-that’s not asking for space, that’s cutting me the fuck off.”
“Isobel did it.”
“Okay, and? You didn’t undo it or stop her,” Alex accused. He stopped sounding like he was going to rip Michael’s head off. He had about two seconds to think it was a good thing before he realized Alex had switched over to sounding like he was about to cry.
It was significantly worse.
“What did I do?” Alex asked. His voice didn’t crack, but it wasn’t exactly comforting. “You won’t even look at me. I hate to sound clingy, but, fuck, Guerin, you’re being a dick to me. I get it if you don’t wanna be with me, but have the balls to say it to my face.”
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t say that. It was so remarkably untrue.
Michael reluctantly forced himself to look up at Alex and he took in the sad expression he wore so plainly. It was honest and raw and it hurt. 
“I want to be with you,” Michael said‒because he was so, so stupid. Alex, thankfully, didn’t lighten up.
“Then why are you being so mean to me? I thought…” Alex trailed off, looking at him and then the wall, “Did Flint say something to you? Because this changed after  you met him.”
“No,” Michael said firmly, “I’ve just… I’ve been training and stressed and, and I won’t get scouted if I’m out. I thought it would be easier if I just…”
“If you just treated me like I’m garbage and won’t even have a conversation with me?” Alex said. Michael closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Fuck you.”
“I deserve that.”
“Why would you build me a car and meet me brother? Why would you do half the shit you’ve done if you had no intention of being with me for longer than a few months?” Alex demanded. Michael swallowed and laughed softly. Where was Isobel when he needed her to whisk him away?
“Because I didn’t know that this would be an issue. I didn’t know being with you put so many people at risk,” Michael admitted. It was probably too truthful‒he was making it sound like it was more serious than football. Because it was.
But maybe he could convince Alex that he was extremely shallow.
Part of him wished he could simply be honest. If he was around Alex, Flint would find out and he would be completely and utterly fucked. But Alex loved his brother. He was a lot of things, but mean enough to use Alex as a weapon wasn’t one of them. He would just have to push Alex away himself.
“Then talk to me! Be my boyfriend!” Alex snapped, “Don’t just fucking ghost me! We didn’t need to go public. I didn’t want to in the first place and we barely have anyway. I was perfectly content doing nothing but being with you privately.”
Michael kept his eyes on the ceiling. He needed to be rude. He needed Alex to not want him anymore. Hate me. Call me an asshole. Break up with me. You’re better than me, say it.
“You should’ve talked to me,” Alex said.
“Okay.”
Alex was quiet for what really felt like an hour, but was more likely just the worst 30 seconds of Michael’s life. This truly wasn’t fair. In a perfect world, he would get to be miserable and have Alex hold him and make him feel better about this whole shitty situation. They could take a nap together and Alex could shield him from all the bad in the world. Or, actually, in a perfect world he wouldn’t be miserable at all.
“Be nice to me,” Alex demanded. It was in the same tone of voice that he used when he said ‘touch me’, like he was telling Michael to do something that he knew Michael already wanted to do. It almost had him laughing. “I know you. I know you’re not an asshole. That guy who built me a car and let me paint his nails and dreams about being close to me just to keep himself calm is who you are. You’re… You’re not this.”
“And what if I am? What if I’m just really good at pretending to be charming?” Michael asked.
Alex kicked his shin. Not hard enough to hard, but enough to make him look at him in the eyes.
“Be nice to me,” Alex repeated, “Unblock me and be nice to me. If that means breaking up with me to my face, then do it. If it means apologizing to me and working your ass off to make it up to me, then do it.”
The thing about Alex Manes was that his eyes were insane. In a good way, of course, but they were impossible to lie to and impossible to deny. He knew he needed to reject him, that was the safe way to do things. That’s what would keep him and the people he loved safe.
But he wanted Alex.
He wanted slow kisses and warm cuddles. He wanted flirty texts and a place to nap. Alex was everything he wanted and everything he couldn’t have. But, maybe if he was careful…
“We can’t be seen together,” Michael said. Alex shrugged.
“Okay.”
“You deserve someone you can be seen with.”
“Why are you telling me what I deserve? You think I can’t make my own decisions?” Alex asked. Michael sniffled and looked around the room, trying to find the courage to deny him. He needed to. It was the right thing to do. 
“We’re going to get hurt,” Michael said. I’ll probably die, he didn’t say. Maybe if Flint was feeling nice he would leave Isobel and Max and Sanders alone. Maybe he could beg. He wasn’t above begging. 
“I want to be with you,” Alex said like it was easy, “I’m not afraid of saying it to your face, I don’t care if you think I’m clingy. Either say you don’t want me or act like you fucking do. I’m not here for this passive aggressive shit.”
“You’re a hard man to lie to, Alex Manes,” Michael said softly, shaking his head as he took a step forward. Alex scoffed.
“Then don’t lie.”
Michael took a deep breath and knelt on the ground. Alex didn’t ask what he was doing, simply let him move in close and rest his face against his stomach. Arms went around him and held him there. And, god, it was stupid.
But he felt safe for the first time in days.
-
“Alex, are you okay?”
“What?”
“You haven’t spoken about Michael in days.”
Alex rolled his eyes and threw a fry at Maria who dodged it with a laugh. For the days that Michael had been vehemently ignoring him, Alex had kept his mouth shut. Liz and Maria had both made it pretty clear they didn’t really approve of them moving so fast, so he kept it to himself when it seemed they were right.
And, well, now that they were going back to keeping it silent, he didn’t know exactly what to say. He really didn’t want to prove them right. But he liked Michael and there was clearly something going on that he wasn’t saying. He could pull the football card all he wanted, but that wasn’t what was actually going on.
Alex didn’t plan on letting him go that easily when he was hiding something that was fucking him up so badly. He’d eventually get him to speak. When he did, he wanted Michael to know that Alex wasn't going anywhere.
“We’re being lowkey,” Alex decided to say. Both girls shared a look that made him want to bash his face into a wall.
“Lowkey?” Liz asked. Alex shrugged, dipping his fry into his shake. 
He felt a little bit better about the whole situation after Michael climbed into his bedroom window the night before. Any question on whether he should actually break up with him or not vanished. Michael was shaky and had lost weight, new scars dawning his skin from the last time Alex had touched him. Something was going on. He wasn’t going to let them convince him to change his mind.
“Shit came up, we’re being lowkey.”
“Alex…”
“Nope, not letting you talk me out of it,” Alex insisted, “I don’t want to hear it. If I wanted to, I would bring him up.”
They went through their whole routine anyway. “We don’t want you to get hurt” and “we just care about you” all of which were totally valid, but they didn’t have the full story. They weren’t understanding that something was wrong and he couldn’t tell them because he didn’t know what it was yet. He wasn’t going to just abandon him. Michael had known nothing but abandonment for most of his life and he wasn’t about to be another person on the list.
“It sounds toxic, Alex,” Liz said, “Especially if he’s suddenly trying to force you back into the closet.”
“He’s not forcing me to do anything, it was a mutual agreement. We want to be more lowkey, we liked it better that way,” Alex insisted. It wasn’t even a lie. He preferred being quiet. It was nicer.
And it made it easier for him to scope out what the fuck was going on.
“If you say so…” Maria said. 
“I do.”
They lapsed into silence and Alex couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. They were just trying to watch out for him and he was pushing them away. He really just had to stick it out until he was able to help Michael with whatever was fucking with him.
And, more importantly, he just had to hope it was worth it.
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mlqcconfessions · 4 years
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Your headcanons are perfect! Thank you for your work!♥️ Can you make a Headcanon for all four when they are drunk and MC tries to take them home so they can Rest? I think it would be so funny with a drunk Victor...
Who doesn’t love drunk MLQC boys? And this is my first headcanon with Shaw, so hope I got his character right! I changed the scenario a bit to better fit the boys’ personalities! Hope you don’t mind!
MLQC Headcanon - Overestimated Yourself
Victor
He’s a true connoisseur of fine wines, and actually enjoys small drinks with you
He doesn’t let you drink past 2 glasses (not after what happened on Christmas last year)
“But Victor!”
“No buts. You can take the 2 glasses, or you don’t”
He swiftly ignores your attempt at pinching his nose (he pinches yours, instead)
“Dummy”
Fine. You want some wine? I’ll give you some wine.
You ask the waiter to bring out the bottle with the strongest percentage (he nervously glances at Victor, who seems entirely amused with this situation)
“Ri-right away” (poor guy)
You anxiously watch Victor as he takes a sip of the new wine, your phone out and ready to record his expression
Nothing.
NOTHING
No change in expression whatsoever
It’s official. He’s a monster
He looks at your face, pouty with your lips out, and smirks before taking another sip
A few hours have passed, and he’s still drinking (from the strong bottle, even!)
Your chances of getting him drunk are close to zero, and you sigh in defeat
The waiter comes by with the bill, to which Victor returns with his card
Hmm?
“Victor?” (he looks at you like nothing is wrong, but you and the waiter’s faces beg to differ)
He turns his head to the card he’s holding (it’s his business card)
..........
You can’t help but burst out laughing at this adorable mistake
“Victor, (you’re still recovering from laughing too hard) are you drunk?”
His expression doesn’t seem to change (but that’s in the eyes of normal people)
In your eyes, you can tell that he’s lost his usual composure
He did, after all, drink more than he usually would
You can’t stop smiling even as he hands the waiter the correct card
As the two of you are walking to the car (with a driver, of course, no drunk driving) he puts his hand on your shoulder
You can sense a change in the atmosphere temperature
“I want a new proposal idea on my desk by next week” (your mouth opens wide and you can’t believe what you just heard)
It’s official. He’s a monster
Kiro
As a superstar, he and his team often go on company dinners after a successful promotion
And that includes drinks (he’s usually the one to buy it, because he just likes to)
Kiro’s constantly offered drinks by everyone around the table
He can’t take in alcohol to save his life (one shot, and he’s soon dancing on the table)
So he figured out a way to avoid having to accept any more
“Kiro, let me pour you a glass”
“Oh? I guess it’s my turn cook the meat now!”
“Take this special drink I made. It’s a mix of beer and soju”
“Savin really likes that, so you should give it to him!” (Savin has built up a high tolerance because of this)
But whenever he’s at home with you on a special day, he likes having a few drinks
The only problem is, he gets so clingy when he’s drunk
“MC, I love you so much”
“Can I braid your hair?”
“Hey! Stop getting so close to her!” (he’s fighting with a fork)
“MC, did you know otters hold hands so they don’t drift apart? (he holds your hand and takes it next to his heart) Now we’ll be together forever!”
Why is he so precious?
It’s cute for the first few minutes, but it gets a little tiring after a few hours
“Kiro, how about we play a game?”
“What game?” (his eyes are shining)
“Whoever can fall asleep the fastest wins! But you can’t say anything, or you lose right away!” (....this is what you do with the kids at the orphanage)
He mouths ‘okay’ and immediately lies on the couch with his hands folded together on his stomach
You look at him trying so hard to not open his eyes, and nearly let out a laugh (you’re still playing a game)
Meanwhile, he has his ears perked to catch you talking
After you’re done cleaning up after dinner, you return to the couch and notice Kiro’s arm is dangling off the edge
I guess we have a winner now (you quietly tiptoe to his side, kiss him on the cheek, and grab a blanket to cover him with)
He hasn’t had much sleep in a while, especially with his new song about to come out
At least he’ll be able to drift off for a few hours
“Good night, Kiro”
As you go to the kitchen to finish putting away the plates, he slowly opens his eyes and smiles at the sight of you (you had your back to him, so you would’ve never thought that he was awake)
He closes his eyes once more, happily content with knowing you’re next to him
“Good night, MC”
Lucien
You can never tell when he’s drunk or not
But he definitely can tell when you are (that’s what makes this so frustrating)
It seems he always catches you at your worst moments
Of course, he ensures you that everything you do is adorable (but that’s not the answer you want to hear)
Determined to see his drunk side, you invite him over for a dinner
You emphasize that you’ll prepare the best wine you can offer (at least with your budget)
A couple glasses of wine in, and you’re already starting to lose focus
Lucien doesn’t even change faces as he refills both of your glasses
“Don’t drink too much, MC (you’re giving him a pouty face)”
“Hmmph! Says the person who’s on his 5th glass”
He laughs at your timid remark, adding on to his list of MC’s drinking habits
The first one on the list is you trying to enter Lucien’s home with your own door passcode (he always loves watching you get frustrated through the *door monitor on the wall)
After a few hours have passed, you just decide to give up
He’s never gonna get drunk, who am I kidding?
Your head has cleared up a little (because you stopped accepting his refills)
Lucien, on the other hand, seems too quiet
He’s quiet, but not THIS quiet
It’s been a while since he said anything, so you’re worried (he has mentioned how he’s been feeling a little stressed lately)
“Lucien..?”
You lightly tapped his shoulder, and he responded by meeting his eyes with yours
He still didn’t say anything, but you notice his face is brushed with pink
“....! Lucien? Are you drunk?”
“Haha.....it appears so....” (why is he still so elegant when drunk)
He gets up to help you clear the table, but is a little wobbly on his feet
“Woah, Lucien! (he’s leaning on your shoulders) Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
You walk him to his apartment (it’s like 10 steps) and as you’re about to turn around to leave, he lightly taps your shoulder
“Lucien?”
“MC? When did you get here?” (is this a habit, too???)
Gavin
Birdcop doesn’t usually drink, because he’ll need to be on alert at all times
“But it’s your resting day tomorrow! You can afford to lay back sometimes” (you’re handing him a beer can, cold from the fridge)
He looks at your enthusiastic expression, quickly decides that he can’t win against you, and sighs in acceptance
He’s just hoping that nothing bad happens during this drinking fest (because he can’t protect you 100% when he’s drunk)
Luckily, the night passes on without much turbulence
Except for that moment when you accidentally knocked over the chair (how does that even happen) while you were walking to get more cans
“Alright, MC (he’s collecting the remainder of beers). Confiscated”
“...! But!”
“No buts. You need to sleep early for work tomorrow”
You grab his to stop him from taking your oasis beers (he jolts a little)
“I already took the day off for tomorrow! So I could spend the entire day with you” (Gavin is being swayed)
In the end, you win (like most times) and your drinking party with Gavin resumes
You can hold your alcohol quite well (due to all the after parties you go to)
But poor Birdcop isn’t (he never tries to build up tolerance, because he doesn’t need to)
He’s out like a night light, and you smile looking at his peaceful face (he deserves a break, more than anyone else)
After you clean up, you snuggle in next to him
Perfectly content with this scenario, you rest your head on his shoulder
Then you hear some mumbling (how cute)
It’s getting late, and he should be heading home now 
But as you get up, he pulls you down towards him (so he’s wrapped around you like a bear)
You try to break free, but he doesn’t train every day for nothing
Instead, you wrap your arms around him the same (falling asleep knowing that you’re protected)
He wakes up in the morning and panics
Shaw
He’s not an alcoholic but he definitely likes drinking
Especially when you’re there to make things interesting for him
He likes watching you act all dumb when you’re drunk (but immediately stands in front of you when you act too chummy with the other customers)
He keeps giving you different types of drinks, just to see how you react
So far, vodka wins by a long shot
He has videos of your drunken self (that he sometimes sends to you whenever you don’t reply to his messages)
But Shaw isn’t the type to get drunk, and both of you know that
So when he called you at 2AM, sounding wasted, it’s no wonder that you were surprised
“Shaw? Do you even know what time it is right now?” (you’re trying to sound annoyed, but holding in your urge to giggle)
“Don’t talk back to me, MC”
In contrast to his cold words, his voice was soft and full of laughter
But a loud crash can be heard over the phone, and thunder booms in the distance
Then, silence
“Shaw? Are you okay?” (no answer)
“Shaw? This isn’t funny!” (at this point, you’re nearly ready to run out that door)
“....alleyway” (the call ends there)
Alleyway.....? Ah, maybe.....
You grab your stuff and quickly go outside, almost out of breath as you run to the alleyway near the neighborhood park (the same one where he first asked you out)
Sure enough he’s there, crouched against the brick wall with his arms in front of him
You walk over to him, forehead beaded with sweat, and say in an exasperated tone
“What the heck, Shaw! Do you know how worried I—”
You’re unable to finish your sentence as you notice the wounds on him
You cup his face to closely look at his cheeks (they’re both covered with marks)
“Who...just who did this to you?”
He doesn’t say anything, and just pulls you closer to him (you catch a whiff of the strong alcohol)
Like always, he doesn’t tell you much (and you know better than to prod at a painful spot)
You just let out a sigh, and gently pat the back of his head (he always relaxes when you do that)
“Tell me everything when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you”
He doesn’t say anything, but his tighter embrace gives you reassurance
(The next day he completely forgets what happened and laughs at you for trying to make things up)
This guy....
*this is what I was imagining when I said the screen on the wall for Lucien’s part
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Yeah I don’t know why Shaw’s got so dark (it’s probably because I was replaying the latest chapters)
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sunflowerhae · 4 years
Text
Lifeboat
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N.J (2k)
A/N• this is purely indulgent. It also has quite heavy themes, but at this point are any of us surprised. I want to make something clear, the reader doesn’t do what she does bc of what happens with her and Jaemin (I’m trying not to spoil). I mean, that’s just a tip of the iceberg type situation. That being said, if you are having similar thoughts as our dear reader, please call your countries suicide hotline, and/or talk to someone you trust in your life. ALSO, I am not trying to romanticize any of the topics I wrote about, I’m trying to show that even the people that seem to have it all can be just as lost and broken as the rest of us, also that the most important thing you could be to a person is someone who asks them if they’re okay. Sometimes, that’s all a person needs - Someone to listen.
READ!⚠️angst, suicide,character death, drugs, heavy self-hating words, depiction of depression/mental illness, not specified, but insinuates⚠️
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{🎵SOTS☁️; Lifeboat, Elle McLemore}
The world seemed to close in on you as you stared at the boy who stood before you with a hardened gaze in his eyes. While you only stood a good 3 feet away from him, you could feel the anger and helplessness radiating off of him, transferring itself onto you in sadness and heartbreak.
“Why?” Was the only thing you could manage to get past your lips.
“Y/n, it’s not that I don’t like you, of course I do. We’ve been dating for 2 years, but I’ve just been... uncomfortable almost the whole time. It’s not your fault, it’s just, your life. I can’t handle being with one of the most popular girls in school. You seem to have it all figured out, and everyone loves you, and I feel pushed to the side sometimes.” You didn’t understand why Jaemin was mad, but the small space under the bleachers where you both stood was enough to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t care to ask.
He didn’t understand.
They never understood.
No one.
You wanted to fight to save your relationship, but the words choked into the back of your throat, just like they did when Soojin would bully people in front of you, and you wanted to scream at her and pull the other person into your arms and whisper that it will all be okay and apologize apologize apologize, but you stayed rigid on her flank, silently trying to survive until you could get to Jaemins arms, or to the bottom of a beer bottle at yet another house party you were constantly forced to attend with your other two friends.
You choose to swallow your spit, and ask him, “is this because of soojin? Did she say something to you?” You knew your “dear” friend had a certain distaste for your long term boyfriend, because - as she had worded it - his kind doesn’t belong next to someone that Soojin had deemed acceptable enough to befriend (you); “His kind” being not necessarily the most popular. Him and his other friends were amazing people, and you wished you would have befriended them on the first day of freshman year, instead of the blonde girl in your Art 1 class that always had a red scrunchie. When Jaemin introduced you to them, you could tell they were hesitate to let you into their life - what with your position within your schools hierarchy system. You honestly didn’t blame them. However, after a while they warmed up to you, and you felt like you finally fit in with people. You thought these people would become your life long friends; long after you’ve left high school and forgotten all about the life you unwillingly lead.
You suppose that is no longer the case.
“No, yes, god I don’t know, y/n. It’s just, everything! You have friends that are bitches, and I never know when you’re just going to leave me and spread some terrible rumor about me!” He was silently yelling now. It was after school, and the football team was on the field - the other side of where you stood - practicing. There were people running on the track, cheerleaders practicing next to the field, leftover students wondering the grounds. Everyone was living, moving on with their lives and turning along with the Earth - why did you feel frozen? Why did you feel like nothing was ever going to keep moving and be okay and the world was never going to be beautiful again?
“Is that what you expect me to do, Jaemin? After two years of knowing me, is that what you think of me?”
“God, y/n, maybe! I see who you align yourself with so I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a bitch just like them!” You understood he was just hurting, like you, but that didn’t make the words hurt any less. You took a couple steps back from his figure with slow nods, before turning around fully and booking your way to your car.
Jaemin watched your retreating figure with tears curling into his eyes. He left not long after you did, still thinking about you on the way home. He didn’t know this at the time, but that was the last time he ever saw you. His first love, his first heartache.
You felt guilty.
You always did. You always had this insistent chewing at your intestines; this constant voice in your head telling you that everyone was better than you, and that you didn’t deserve the praise you got for being a good person.
You tried to fight the words and the icky feelings off with trips to the volunteer center - usually with Jaemin. You went that night, hoping that this constant pain in your heart after hearing jaemins smooth, venom-filled words would choke back and leave your system, like the terrible feelings usually did when you helped people. However, no matter how many people smiled at you, and no matter how many lives you got to help, the feeling only grew more and more.
You are worthless, y/n.
You only do charity work for your own need.
No one likes you.
You’ll never be loved.
Not even Jaemin loves you.
These ill thoughts were a normal occurrence for you. Usually, Jaemin would lay you down, rub your stomach, and whisper in your ear how beautiful you were to him, inside and out.
You were a nuisance and a waste to him, y/n.
The feelings never left, and you could tell people knew something was wrong with you, so you chose to leave the center early. On your way out, a familiar face had asked you where Jaemin was. You pretended you didn’t hear them.
Your room was dark. Usually, if you couldn’t have Jaemin, you would go to your parents. However, they were away at a dinner event for your mother’s work. You would never go to Soojin, and while you loved Haeyong, she had a tendency to tell Soojin about what you two privately talked about; always trying to get brownie points with the blonde girl who seemed to secretly hate her. You figured there was someone you could go to, and it didn’t hurt to try.
Y/n [10:57pm] u up???? I kinda need someone to talk to rn hAha. Read
Y/n [10:59pm] hello? 👉👈 Read
Y/n [11:02pm] Haechan why r you leaving me on read bro?? Ik he’s your best friend, but we don’t have to talk about him, I just need someone to talk to pLS pls. Read
[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:02PM
Haechan [11:03pm] listen y/n we shouldn’t talk anymore, I’m sorry. You were a good friend, but Jaemin was and always will be first to me. And he’s right, we never know when you’re going to do a 180 on us and tell all of our secrets to everyone. We can’t - and never have been able to - trust you. I’m sorry, really. You’re a popular girl. You don’t need us, you’ll forget. When we became friends with you, we didn’t really want to, Jaemin kinda forced us to, I hope u understand. :/ we’ll forget about u, u forget about us. Deal? Read
Y/n [11:04pm] um ok. Sorry for bothering you all, have a good night Read
Y/n [11:03pm] when will u be home?Read
[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:04PM
Mom [11:06pm] not for a while, ask Jaemin to come over if you’re scared of being alone. Read
Y/n [11:06pm] mom i hate to be annoying but can u and dad come home rn??? I need u Read
[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:06PM
Mom [11:08pm] are you dying? Has someone broken in? Are you unsafe?Read
Y/n [11:08pm] um,,,,no Read
Mom [11:10pm] well then no y/n. You know how much this award means to me, I’ve been constantly working lately and finally might get recognized for it. If I leave now, I might not get it. Can whatever you need wait? Read
Y/n [11:11pm] Um yeah. I love u Read
Mom [11:12pm] u too💖 Read
Why were you never first?
Why was there no one who asked you if you were okay?
If there was, what would you say?
See y/n? No one likes you.
You’re a bother to them.
Maybe you should fix that.
Maybe if you made their lives easier, they would love you.
You didn’t deserve their love, but maybe?
Maybe the pills could love you.
They were always there for you.
Maybe, they could help others love you too.
Love love love love.
Maybe.
Maybe.
They say your parents found you in bed.
They thought you were sleeping. I mean, all your lights were off, it was late.
But in the morning, when your mother came to wake you up and saw that your eyes were wide open, well....
They found the note on your desk across the room.
It was dated a year before.
You had written it a year before.
Everyone admitted that it was such a beautiful note. Heartbreaking? Yes. gut-wrenching? Of course. But beautiful, absolutely beautiful.
They gathered everyone into the gym the next day in intervals. Freshman, who didn’t understand what was really happening, but had heard your name and definitely knew who you were, and could put two and two together.
Next, the sophomores. Like the freshman, they only had heard of you. Some had met you, some cried. You were kind, they knew.
After them, the juniors. Chenle and Jisung were sitting in the corner. Jisung was sobbing into Chenle’s lap, while silent tears fell down the olders’ face. You had always been willing to play video games with them, and were such a kind hearted person. They remember last night, when they were all sitting together and haechan had read your texts you sent out loud, and all of them were so busy feeling for Jaemin, that they blindly informed Haechan on what he should say. On how to break your heart. Chenle wished Haechan had called her.
Finally, the seniors. Soojin and Haeyong sat in the back, as always. They were both upset because you had not been answering their texts.
Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin were sitting on the other side. They had not been told what the assembly was about, but when the teacher got the call about it, halfway through math, she sat at her desk for a couple of seconds with her head in her hands. They knew whatever the assembly was about was not good.
Haechan was the first to react out of the four.
He whispered your name silently with wide eyes rounded on his face. His mind went to the first time you met him. You played him in a round of Overwatch to get him to warm up to you, and easily beat him. Besides Jaemin, he was probably the one you were closest to.
Jeno just kept looking at his lap with evident tears denting dark spots onto his jeans. Renjun, who was sitting next to Jaemin, couldn’t take his eyes off the boy to his right, terrified that he would faint.
Jaemin felt sick. He knew he looked pale, and his head felt a bit dizzy. He tasted metallic in his mouth, and finally registered that he was biting the inside of his cheek so hard, he was drawing blood. He wanted to leave, but he was too far up on the risers to get down.
Soojin cried. It was uncharacteristic of her, but at this point she didn’t care. How had she not seen it? Was she that self centered that she had really not seen it on you? Her best friend?
Haeyong wished you had called her, wished you had told her. But why would you? She knew she didn’t deserve to hear your heartache, but she still wished.
They read out your note. Your beautiful, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching note. They read it. And the student body listened.
I float in a boat
In a raging black ocean
Low in the water
And no where to go
The tiniest lifeboat
With people I know
Cold,
Clammy and crowded
The people smell desperate
We’ll sink any minute
So someone must go
The tiniest lifeboat
With people I know
Everyone’s pushing
Everyone’s fighting
Storms are approaching, there’s no where to hide
If I say the wrong thing
Or I wear the wrong outfit
They’ll throw me right over the side
I’m hugging my knees
And the captain is pointing
Well who made her captain?
Still, the weakest must go
The tiniest lifeboat
Full of people I know
The tiniest lifeboat
Full of people I know
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Lemme know if you’d like a part two? Idk. Like I said this is purely indulgent so it’s not that good sorry :///
129 notes · View notes
madmadmilk · 5 years
Text
One After The One PART 1 | Tom Holland x Reader
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Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | >>
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: What does one in a million even mean? Does it mean you’re the first of many or the fucking last? Does it mean that you’re somewhere in the middle? And what happens to the poor baby who ends up being the 999,999th one? Or worse, the one after The One? There ought to be some kind of prize for second to last, and second runner up. Especially when being #2 is your specific talent.
Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics
Word Count: 6.7K swipes left
Special Shoutout: Thank you @hypnotized-so-mesmerized for being a BETA for this chapter and for you lovely input!
-
“I can’t fucking believe you’ve got me fifth wheeling for this….” you sigh, as you blow strands of your hair away from your face. You walk briskly atop of the shifting sand behind your leggy friend.
All 5 foot 10 inches of her shakes with laughter as she watches you trip over yourself. She shrugs, “The more the merrier?”
You roll your eyes, resigning to a smile as she waves back for your hand to hold. You reach out and accept her offer loosely, allowing yourself to be pulled along.
“Come on, the boys are waiting.”
Right.
You watch the festival lights cast a warm glow at the edges of her silhouette. She smiles at you, bronzed, beautiful–– taken.
Over the past year, all your best friends started fucking dating each other.
Leaving you single, alone, and second best.
It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t unnatural–– but it quite literally happened over night. “This” is just your “new normal.”
You all still hung out, together, mismatched or separately. Nothing has stopped them from asking you to hang out, but there are times where you feel… The Line.
It was Common Sense tingling and telling you that certain occasions were more of a “date-night” rather than friendly get together. And the last thing you wanted to be was a cockblock to your own goddamn friends.
Like tonight, you were tagging along to the late-night-end-of-the-summer beach bar hop bash, with your two pairs of your closest friends. Sam and Ry, short for Ryan. And Liza and K, short for Erik.
Then there’s you, of course.
The three boys were waiting with drinks in hand, while you and Liza took your sweet time climbing the sandy stairs. This was the usual ritual, but you stood alone when you reached the guys. They paired off, easily, naturally, sweetly.
The vibrating radio-centric music drowned out the sounds of the lapping ocean, the conversation you walked into was near unintelligible, and the crowd was excited about something.
God, I wish that were me.
There wasn’t anything wrong with going to this year’s beach bash, as you go to it as a group every year–– it’s just that this time they were holding hands and you were holding a drink. It’s more sour than you’d like.
You were fine coming out “alone,” but who wants to be alone?
You greet one another with warm hugs and Liza immediately dives into a rant about officially moving in with K, and about how he doesn’t wanna mix his laundry with hers–– all those new domestic nuances. 
Sam rolls his eyes and exclaims, “Ry is the same fucking way–– like, it’s just cloth, babe.”
“Easy for you to say when all you wear is black––“ Ry retorts, pushing his boyfriend’s shoulder. 
Everyone starts with a snickering laugh, clinking beer bottles and recanting similar experiences.
Tonight you just don’t feel like it.
Living alone and sleeping alone is one of your specific talents. It’s been nice to have your own fucking bed, your own fucking room, your own fucking space–– all of it to just BE your own fucking self, by your fucking self. You’ve been this way for twenty-odd years now (kind of, you know what i mean). Love and friends are welcome to hang out, but at the end of the day, the place is all yours. And yours alone. That’s what home means to you.
“–– But living together hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be,” Liza smacks her lips, looking down in short embarrassment. She leans back against K, “There are good things too.”
Sam is quick to point out their PDA, and you take another sip of your drink. You would have spoken up to contribute about your own experiences, once upon a time. But that’s a sore topic you’re not willing to relive on this breezy night.
Instead, you laugh along, crossing your arms while propping your elbow on the bar. You’ll let tonight be as rosy as it can be with no time to dwell. Your drink is near empty, consumed faster than you remember. Someone taps your shoulder.
“Hey.”
You blink dryly, resurfacing. “Hm?”
K is rubbing the side of your arm, those hazel eyes darkened in the low light. His dark brows were raised high, “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you answer easily. You hold up your drink, making a smug face and down it to his bemusement. You shake the empty bottle, setting it back on the table. “Always good.”
He nods slowly, looking over at the other three still gossiping amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you can only imagining Sam and Liza were poking at each other by the way that Ry was smiling.
K swings his head back to you, “Wanna dance?”
“Sure.”
And you follow him, aware that, no, he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to talk.
You walk away with him, unnoticed by the others and tracing your finger across a brick wall. He stops, leaning against it and you do too. Looking over him, neat clothes and nervous face, you raise a brow.
“Sorry––“ he starts slowly, scratching the back of his neck.
“For what?” You laugh, scrunching your brows as you nod your head to the muffled music.
“This. It’s weird, right? Us. All of us, dating. That last year we were the ones single and you were––“ he sighs, pulling his lip to the side, “Last year was totally different. And now we’re all here, still together. Together-together.”
“Mhm, it was going to happen sooner or later,” you muse. K has loved Liza since Day One. And you and him have both known it, and what it means to him now. His dreams become reality every second that passes.
“Shut up,” he swats at your arm. You see the curl of his smile behind the embarrassment, “Nah. No. But this must be awkward for you, huh?”
You shrug. “Little bit. I’ll get over it, you guys are still my friends.”
His eyes search yours for the real truth. They were all so worried that them coupling up would ruin something, between themselves and with you. Ha. You told they they were stupid for thinking that. You believe in seizing the opportunities, in taking leaps and following your partner around the world–– in theory, at least.
They confided in you individually and you told them all the same thing. Tailored to their personalities, but in the same conceptual vein. 
“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you tried and you don't have to spend another day wondering ‘what if..?’”
And they bought it. Now, that being said, you already knew that they all fucking liked each other so–– push her and push him and push him and him, and things will fall into place.
It’s just that… the new thing is that you’re the one out out of the loop. You used to be the first to know but now you’re last to find out. And that is strange.
You’re not their number 1 anymore. And there’s nothing you can say about it.
“You’re still my best friend, got it?” K leans his shoulder on yours and you rest yourself against him too. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Today, but not tomorrow.
It’s hard not to be bitter, and it’s horrible that there’s no remedy for it. FOMO is a new-age disease, after all. No science to sort it out yet, no justification to satiate it.
“So…. You talkin’ to anyone? Looking?” He asks too casually for a question he knew you hated. He bumps elbows with you and shake along with it.
“Nope,” your mouth pops at the “p.” 
He raises his brows again, and argh you hate that. There was always someone you were talking to, or someone you’ve been with. But not these days. These days you felt too tired to be someone’s ideal anything. 
“There are some cute guys around, looking at you,” his eyes twinkle a little too brightly for a straight guy with horrible taste. (Facts backed up by Sam, Ry, Liza, AND personal experience) “Plenty of fish, yeah?”
You shake your head, not interested. Sex could come and go, infatuation could come and go–– but you’re kinda tired of the short stuff.  But not exactly ready for a whole-ass relationship either. You don’t need to explain yourself–– you just know you wouldn’t last the night.
“Not in the mood,” you huff.
“Tonight,” he says suggestively, wiggling his shoulders.
You both laugh, you a little bit dryly. You try to direct his attention back to Liza and their budding romance, as the trio finds you guys again. At first they didn’t immediately stand coupled, Ry handing you a drink and Sam going to talk to K. Liza smoothed out her clothes and you all talked about some new plans. It was an honest good time. Ry spilled his drink on Sam, and complained about the laundry again–– Liza got waaaay too drunk and you and K were holding her in your arms while she staggered like Bambi.
It was nice and warm, and a lot like old times. 
I missed that.
You felt yourself smile and let loose–– not thinking of old ex’s or new flings. Just about the friends before you and how safe they made you feel, and how happy you are to see them happy. That’s love, right?
“Oh my god, look!” someone exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky. You hear a loud clap.
As the night faded and grew colder, fireworks erupted into the sky with a loud crackle. You guys squealed and ran to the top of a sand dune, tripping and tumbling to see the dying summer sights. The fizzing calmed your calls. It’s funny how loud fiery skies filled you with the same awe every time. How it quieted you and made you feel small.
The couples soon held each other, soft embraces with their necks craned upwards. Their eyes twinkled from bursts of lights, smiling at the sharp crackles of sound.
Tonight was the one of many nights they would be able to spend in each other’s arms, so far away and close to you all at once.
This was the line you were cautious about–– you couldn’t talk to them when they were like this, out of courtesy. Out of honoring their moment.
You stood back, watching their excited faces instead of the bursting sky. You felt it. Not jealousy or bitterness, but the awful choke of curiousity and selfishness. The “what if that were me?”
It’s been a while since you’ve had arms wrap over your shoulders and kissed your hair. Enough time has passed for you to forget what that felt like. Too long? What was that like again?
The finale of fireworks struck across the inky, dark sky. You inhaled the smell of chalky smoke, tasting the salt in the air.  Lights and colors fill your eyes, unblinking.
You suck in your cheeks as it quiets and you can hear the ocean again. 
And you let yourself think, I want that again.
So with a new pulse, you went home and did the only logical thing in finding the next Love of Your Life.
You downloaded Tinder.
-
You avoided “serious” dating and being a “serious” anything to anyone, but seeing that “seriousness” in your friends made you wonder if you could be anything like them. If you were ready to open your heart to the possibility of loving and being loved.
Seriously. Sincerely. No bullshit.
This time.
At least, that’s what you told yourself as you messed around setting up a profile on Tinder. Regretfully spending way too long shuffling through old selfies that were engaging and enticing. You sigh as you pick through the lot, frustrated at the mind games that have already started.
It’s tiring.
And that’s probably why you end up cracking a few days later and end up telling Sam and Ryan. It was a short two word text, “Tinder. Help?” And you got a speedy reply from both of them (even when you knew they were most likely sat right next to each other). They were at your place in less than an hour.
Sam applauds your efforts, but is only there for moral support more or less. He’s an ace at the dating game, but has no patience to explain his ways. 
“Typical,” You and Ry hum, as Sam rifles through your pantry instead.
Ryan, quiet as he is, sat with you and looked through the photos you choose. He broke down the psychology of it all; about the aloofness and whatever–– which you understood. You need to try hard, but not look like you are. Effortlessness, funny, chic, digestible, likeable–– 
“Performative.” He says flatly, “But this is fast and simple.”
And you have to agree, looking at your phone in his hands.
You blink as you reflect.
This is so much easier in fiction, in those movies where people go on a million dates in one week and match with the hottest fucking dudes ever. Where the protagonist has the perfect amount of self-confidence to keep her moving forward, endless chances to mess up and and still get the guy… God, it’s so easy on paper. There’s no dignity to lose. But here? In the “real” world, even on an app you could delete at anytime–– to put yourself out there? Mortifying.
But, at least you’re bored enough to try.
So, what the fuck, right?
“Did you tell Liza and K yet?” 
“No, they would definitely try to set me up with someone real,” you laugh, leaning back on the couch. You wriggle your toes and tilt your head away.
Ry leans back with you with a brow raised, “Isn’t that… the point?”
Yeah, like, true. They have lots of friends they’re always trying to peddle your way, which is cool and all but… it’s a lot harder to pick and choose and ghost someone when you have mutual contacts.
He read the look on your face and nodded slowly, “Got it, got it.” He laughed to himself, perceptive and cautious. He extends his thoughts, “But you gotta tell us if you actually go and meet anyone. K would kill us if you didn’t say anything.”
“I won’t get into any trouble,” you squint, looking away from him mischievously.
“Uh-huh,” Ry affirms plainly as he swipes right on a few cute boys. 
-
Your experience with dating apps was limited–– you made a joke account a while ago and never really did much with it. Then you had a more “real” account that you never tried sincerely with. You had real people you dated at the time–– uhm. But now, now that you’re actually on here looking… it is bleak.
It’s a Saturday night and you’re winding down with a glass of wine swiping through your options. People you actually knew showed up, and you swiped that shit away so fast you almost chucked your phone with it. You flipped through people who looked fake for real, some older dudes, and plenty of people with vibes you didn’t like–– the pool is so wide you almost didn’t know where to start. And you could afford to be picky, sure. It’s just, who knew that “too many options” would actually be a problem.
You spend the next few days idling checking and chatting, not getting any viable catches. You felt like you were just peering into small windows, head in and head out. Nothing caught your attention long enough for you to want to look in further.
You even start poking at things you never wanted to acknowledge as real, like the impact of cheesy bios, and deciphering who was who in group pics, and the thrilling amount of dudes holding up fish.
Pretty wack.
You felt yourself grow tired of it again. The adrenaline was waning, burnt to the stump. Good thing you didn’t try too hard. Pfft.
You sleepily swipe away on your phone, too late into the night. You blink hard as you snuggle into your covers, muttering, 
“Just one more.”
Ah.
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>>  check out the whole bio here <<
“T, 23. Friendly, neighborhood romantic,” you whisper to yourself. You crack a small smile.
After countless swipes left, and (1) accidental swipe right, you match with a blurry boy–– super sus, I know. You don’t know how it happened tbh–– there’s nothing to “look” at, but your eyes fell on this one. Maybe because you just watched “Far From Home,” and enjoyed this spidey reference. Or you’re just innately drawn to the word “romantic.” Could be either, easily.
“It’s a match!”
Shit. You mumble, your profile photos floating together. You take a second to look through his meager collection. They were all obscure and blurry and not exactly in the artsy way.
You couldn’t decipher much, only that he had fair skin (?), with dark hair and dark eyes, but even that was questionable. 
You’re pretty sure you matched with a bot or some old dude, or worse, a kid. You can hardly see his face in the pictures, blurry or cropped or covered.
Okay...
Is that his real name? Probably not. Is he actually 23? Doubt it. Is this going to go anywhere? Let’s hope not.
But whatever, it’s the first “match” that has seemed interesting in the past few days, solely on your pickiness. And this random bastards only gets you out of dumb luck.
You rub your eyes, and set down your phone, resigning to your stupidity.
You’ll deal with it in the morning.
Good night.
And the gears were set in motion as you slept.
You had a new message on tinder waiting for you, but you didn’t check the app until much later. You go through your Sunday morning routine, only opening your phone after a light breakfast and stretch. 
“Oh god,” you blink as you catch the red notification. You look around the room, preparing yourself for what could be anything. You take a deep breath and open the chat.
T: Hey
Oh. You stare at it, so bare with no personality to pick at. You wonder if you should even reply, but by the grips of boredom, you do.
You: Hey!
You set your phone down, trying to swallow the short thrill. You walk away for a moment. A reply comes within minutes.
And it’s a goddamn mess.
T: Sorry, i’ve never done this before.
Strike one. You suck in your cheeks. While you’re fairly new at this too, you… don’t know how much time you want to invest it in. Here again, you debate replying back–– but he beats you to it.
T: I’m trying to get over my ex
UHM? Strike two, you almost have to laugh. This is just testing your patience. Your jaw wriggles as you see he has more to say…
T: And you look a lot like her.
Damn. Strike three, he’s out. He’s got to know that would put anyone off, right? Why would you even admit that straight out? T? Come on, man.
You: i’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.
T: it’s an apology now, i didn’t know what to say
You: you could have complimented my killer smile or the pic of me with a dog. Anything but that
T: Right, right. I’m such a dickhead. Sorry, it’s nice to meet you though.
You hold your phone away, debating whether or not you should just delete the entire goddamn thing because this was just too stupid–– but it’s Sunday morning and what do you have left to lose. 
You chew on the side of your lip, deciding to entertain “T,” but don’t spare him any soft words. You’d rather get straight to the point.
You: So… you go by “T?” And don’t have any real pics of your face? Are you even real???
T: Yeah, just private
You: kinda defeats the purpose of putting yourself out there though, right? Lol
T: It’s too easy if i put my face out there
You: oh, ha ha ha. So you’re saying you’re too hot to show your face? Love the confidence dude
And this is where you start actually laughing out loud. You wipe away tears at the side of your eyes, cackling at this display of internet confidence. It’s a tiny piece of amusement from a stranger you have 0 feelings for, and you’re not going to be mean to him… but you’ll definitely poke fun to see how far you can get.
Besides, he’s still replying back right? That’s almost hilarious in itself.
T: Hey, confidence is sexy, right?
You: yeah, more in person than online! 😂 (Laughing emoji)
You take a second to scroll back through his photos, and check to see if he has a link to instagram, twitter, anything. But he doesn’t. You try to pull up any evidence you can–– and at the very least, these blurry pics all look like they’re taken of the same person.
Slight build with dark curled hair–– rippable from any ambiguous online “hot boy” mood board though. 
You’re wary.
You spot a picture with his smile, crinkled eye and lifted lip. You could swear he looked familiar… but maybe that’s because you’ve seen that same white boy/model on Pinterest.
Maybe.
T: wanna meet up and see for yourself?
You: maybe if you show me your face first
T: can’t do that quite yet, but I’d love to keep talking to you
You furrow your brows as you read his words. He would be down to meeting up with you upfront, but hesitates to send you a picture beforehand? That’s definitely a red flag, right? Right?
(Yes. Yes it is.)
You pull yourself back and let out a deep sigh. You’re probably the only person he’s talking to, especially with those purposeful (?) blurry pics and cryptic everything. Ugh.
It’s not playing yourself if you know it’s fake right? You can step out of this at anytime.
You: as long as you can hold my attention :) 
T: I’ll try my very best ✌🏼 (peace sign emoji)
–– and with some very, very loose banter…. you end up exchanging numbers. You’ve put the whole Tinder thing on pause for now–– all four days of it. All for one stranger with no tact.
Unknown Number: hey, this is t (smiley face)
You: pfffft, I’m going to call you Blurry Boy. Since your name obviously isn’t T
BB: that’s fine with me :) mind if i call you darling?
You: ew
BB: o come on. It’s cute
You: please tell me you’re actually 23 or i swear to god I’m going to fucking lose it
BB: I swear 🤞🏼 (fingers crossed emoji)
You: ok. Prove it. Send me a pic of you–– you face or whatever
Ok. That’s a leap. He could rip a picture from anywhere but let’s see how fast he could do it. If it takes too long, then he probably did just rip it from the internet.
And if he makes a mistake and actually sends you a clear pic of himself? Well, that could only be seen as a win.
BB: 
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But you are ruthless.
You: ok. Send me another one.
And he could stop if he wanted to.
Only, he doesn’t. In a short moment, he sends another picture.
BB:
Tumblr media
Same room, same face, same glasses. I guess you could believe him… for now. No matter how shitty the photos have end up....
But he could also be one of those people with folders full of stock photos… you never know.
But putting paranoia aside, you decide to turn off the heat a lil. You grab your coffee and sit on your couch, sliding into a comfy position. You turn on some YouTube videos on your laptop, watching the first few seconds as you lean your cheek against the couch cushions.
Phew.
You: thanks…. sorry I’m so paranoid. But you truly have the worst pictures of yourself put up there. Potato quality.
BB: nah, i know. I get it. Haha it’s alright, a pretty girl like you needs to protect herself
You: oh BOY that doesn’t make me feel any better 😂(laughing emoji)
BB: fuck, sorry. Ugh that is fuckin creepy. Shit. I’m terrible at texting
You: no, no. It’s alright. Actually, great job with taking those photos so fast. Most people would have taken sooooo much longer. You get a few points for not holding back
BB: babe, i told you. I’m gorgeous. I don’t gotta worry about it 😂😂💕 (laughing emojis)
You: right, right blurry boy. Great job with all those fuzzy ass photos.  🙄 (Eye roll emoji) haha are you really looking for someone out here or…?
BB: sort of. I’m testing out the waters and… you’re really pretty
You have to blink back and roll your eye, you’re unable to digest this conversation as real. They’re flowery words given to you, for sure, but your suspicion is much stronger. Your guard will not let down or be appeased by some blurry ass dude calling you “pretty.”
He replies before you have the chance.
BB: i dont wanna get into the messy details but yeah. Company sounds great right about now
You: yeah, i feel that
It’s a real and valid reply, but it’s a terrible one. It’s so hard for someone to reply back to that–– but you’re testing his perseverance. If he finds something to say back, it might just prove one more thing to you. That he might actually be interested, and someone worth talking to.
BB: sorry i lead with my baggage, I’m a fucking mess
You: *a confident fucking mess
BB: thank you 😇 (angel emoji)
You: don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse
 You laugh darkly to yourself. I’ve been worse.
BB: hahahaha thanks. Ok. But all that aside… real talk now. Can I ask you about the dog in your photo now?
You hate to admit that your lips curled into a smile, as you hastily type back. 
Your coffee was half drank and cold by now. The YouTube video you were supposed to be watching has moved onto part two. 
You eyes are still scanning your text screen, waiting to see those three bouncing dots at the bottom left hand corner. 
He’s not the worst–– and at most, even if this turns out to be fake, this is just your Sunday morning entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just insignificant texts that will probably lead to a few lost days, or mediocre sex at best.
So, whatever, right?
-
MONDAY MORNING
BB: good morning! ☀️ (sun emoji)
You: well you sure get up early. Good morning 
BB: Haha, I like to start the week as soon as i can. Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?
You: coffee most days. You?
BB: i drink tea, darling
You: yeah that’s probably better for you haha. Less expensive too.
BB: mhm, definitely cheaper if you come over and i make you a cup
You: wow, the flirting starts the second the sun is up, huh?
BB: what, still too early? 
You: never too early
BB: do you brew the coffee yourself?
You: some mornings. I usually pop into XX Cafe midday if i can.
BB: catch you there? 😂 (laughing emoji) nah, i’ll have to check the place out. I don’t know this area too well.
You: i guess if you can find me! I’m usually in and out pretty fast. Got places to be you know? Hm, did you just move here?
BB: yeah, i got settled in about a week ago
You: staying long?
BB: long enough
You: oh ha ha. Seriously not suspicious at all
BB: yeah I’m in town for a month or two. I’m getting away from work and stress for a minute
You: and you chose here?
BB: quiet enough for me. 😌 (smiley face) and you’re here so that’s a plus
You: relentless
BB: and nothing less.
-
MONDAY EVENING
BB: you haven’t seen that series? You’re crazy
You: whaaat! It’s not my thing. AND i don’t have time for it
BB: it’s a masterpiece, come on! Who doesn’t like laughing? It’s funny! You’ll like it
You: you’re gonna owe me a drink if don’t like it
BB: I’ll gladly buy you one right now if that’s what it takes to get you to watch it
You: ugh, i guess if you recommend it i can tryyyy…
BB: you won’t regret it!
You: ugh you are so annoying. What are you up to right now?
BB: reading emails and talking to you
You: haha what’s so important that you’re reading an email at like 11. Gotta turn on that “do not disturb” dude
BB: I can’t mute the work stuff, unfortunately
You: so if i called you over tonight you wouldn’t be able to? “Because of work?”
BB: you serious? I’m only taking serious offers right now
You: No! It’s monday. Can’t indulge you that early in the week
BB:  what a shame. I’d drop it in a heartbeat for you
You: Nice to know 
BB: I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t have told you that (laughing emoji)
You:  😈 (devil emoji)
-
TUESDAY MORNING
BB: good morning!
You: hey! I remembered I had some tea back at my apartment so… just wanted to let you know you had an impact on my day 🙄😊 (eye roll emoji and smiley face emoji)
BB: I could still make a better cup for you 😘 (kissy face emoji)
You: right. What do you have planned today?
BB: hmm, I’m heading out to the gym. Then I might explore the city a bit. Bump into me?
You: well, I don’t know if I could recognize you even if i wanted to
BB: you’ll recognize me
You: haha, okay? Wait, do I know you? –– if this is a prank… 
BB: it’s not! 
You: .. that wouldn’t be cool.
BB: it’s not a prank! There’s just a lot of things I can’t tell you just yet. It’d be a lot easier if we were able to meet up in person.
You: why?
BB: I’m pretty private. It’s really hard for me to just… share certain things with you. But I want to! SO badly! I just can’t send you a whole picture of my face. It’s complicated.
You: Sorry? I don’t get it.
BB: Ahhhh. This is going to sound so bad. I trust you, like as a person. But also I can’t trust you. If you meet me–– you’ll understand why. I’m sorry. 
You: Okay…? And you have to understand that this sounds absolutely batshit to me, right? Like it’s pretty hard to trust you like this. 
BB: yeah I know. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But honestly, it’s nice to be able to talk to you like this and I hope we can continue to chat. I really do like you.
You: … That is really unfair.
BB: I know! I’m sorry. Give me another day or two–– i have a few things to figure out but, I SWEAR i’m not lying to you. I promise it’ll make sense soon
You: well, if you promise you’re not a creep….
BB: I’m not!
You: and that you’re not using me as a replacement for your ex
BB: I won’t!
You: you are SO lucky i’m patient
BB: and kind. And beautiful. And amazing.
You: you’re pushing it, blurry boy. I just need you to realize how unfair this is.
BB: I do. And I know. I’m sorry.
You: what are you looking for here? With me or with anyone you would have met from the app?
BB: a home away from home
You: yeah i read that in your bio. What does that mean?
BB: I’m looking for someone I can spend time with and trust with my whole heart
You: ha ha
BB: I’m serious. It’s hard to find.
You: you’re a real romantic, that’s for sure
-
TUESDAY EVENING
You: you have a DOG and you didn’t tell me?
BB: what, you’re not interested in the fact that I have younger twin brothers and another 8 years younger than me? ‘Always about Tessa
You: obviously! Send a pic!
BB: 
Tumblr media
You: is this from right now?
BB: nah, something I took ages ago. I had to leave her back home with my family.
You: aww, that’s too bad.
BB:  would you come over if she were here?
You: Duh! And I guess you’d have to make me a cup.
BB: sounds lovely. Let’s make it a date
You: ha ha. You miss home?
BB: More than you know. I travel A LOT
You: well, call back often! They would be happy to know you miss them! Loneliness is not a great feeling.
BB: I do, all the time! And definitely not a good feeling. So, it’s really nice to talk to you. Thank you.
You: Sorry, I’m not a very great conversational partner. But still happy to hear that
BB: You are. You’re still here
You: You are too.
BB: You already mean a lot to me
You: Have you been in many relationships? (Or hookups idk)
BB: No, and not really. I’ve only been in a handful of long-term relationships
You: Interesting
BB: What?
You: Just wondering if you are really catching feelings for me
BB: Guilty. You?
You: I don’t think I know enough about you to catch anything. No offense 😬😅(cringe emoji, laughing emoji)
BB: Ha, no. I meant if you’ve been in many relationships?
You: Oh! Sorry. A few of either. Did long-term once. Didn’t work out, obviously–– so here I am. That’s that.
BB: Guess we both have a past to bury
You: Please don’t say anything about “burying yourself into my pussy to feel better”
BB: WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that. That’s all you 👀
You: Hey, you’ve been pretty quick all the other times, bud.
BB: If I tell you I want more than just sex, does that make you feel better?
You: It makes me think about the fact that you still want to have sex with me
BB: And I can’t deny that 😊 (smiley blushy face emoji)
-
WEDNESDAY MORNING:
BB: Good morning!
You: Morning! Little later than usual–– sleeping in?
BB: Yeah, since I can afford to. You replied quicker than usual. Were you waiting for me? 😉 (wink emoji)
You: Haha, you wish. I was already on my phone, stud.
BB: Right, right. I can tell you like to play hard to get
You: No I don’t!
BB: 😂 (laughing emoji)
You: I don’t!
BB: Wow, feels great to finally have something to hold over you 
You: I hate you 🙄 (eye roll emoji)
BB: Have a nice day, love 😊🌈(smiley face, rainbow emoji)
-
PING! 
“BB? Who is bb?” Liza asks you on Wednesday evening after seeing a notification pop up on your phone. She grabs it off the sticky cafe table and looks at you with her pretty head tilted.
Oh––
You wiggle your jaw, and raise your brows,
 “No one important.” 
You take your phone back and open the message discreetly. It’s nothing special, you’re sure, but you have to look.
BB: so have you seen the last episode yet????? Hello??
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” She pleads, putting down the drink in her hands. You were at the mall, idly walking and taking a short break. She looks at you pointedly, eyes darting around your face for any spot of weakness, as she quietly whines, “You didn’t tell us anything about this…”
“It’s because I’m not––”  You offer, nodding. You flip your phone upside down as the message lights up again. “–– seeing anyone.”
She gives you a squinted look of total disbelief.
You’ve been messaging “Blurry Boy” nonstop for the past few days. First you talked about nothing, and now you’re asking each other about how your day was going and what you’re doing now, and what you’re doing later. 
You always find something. Your phone is constantly by your side, sound on.
And there’s a layer of real time now, now that you’ve gotten to know him and his schedule better.
You learn that he has his own cute dog name Tessa and that his family fosters dogs back home, and that he’s the oldest, with twin brothers and a younger one he’s been trying desperately to relate to. You find out that his favorite color is black and that he’s in deep shit for stealing his best friend’s fav hoodie. All of this makes him feel like someone you know, someone you could call a friend.
He feels like more than just some guy you’ve talked to waaaay too long from Tinder.
And what’s worse, is that he knows certain things about you too. He knows that you don’t like sleeping in the dark and that you’re borderline addicted to iced coffee. That you like rewatching old romcoms and classic spooky movies… That your back hurts from work and that you have a fucking dentist appointment on Thursday. 
You know a lot more about each other than less. And that’s kinda really fucking weird.
“You’re always smiling at your phone,” Liza says flatly, picking her drink back up to take a long and loud sip. Major side-eye. “‘Fess up.”
“No, I’m not!” You say through your teeth, trying to not smile. But under her stare you melt and crack under pressure.
You keep telling yourself that you’ll stop replying–– that he’s super sus and this isn’t going anywhere. But… you just keep texting him back.
“It’s nothing, seriously.”
“Let me see,” she pouts. “Pleeeease.” She flaps her hands at you, wriggling her fingers.
“No!”
Even though you know that it’s a losing game with her, you try to put up a fight, turning away and holding your phone tightly. You have onlookers now from the squealing, kicking and creaking chairs.
You give in after a minute.
You hand your phone in defeat as you readjust yourselves. You clear your throat.
“Okay, okay. But this is like, not serious at all, okay.” You rationalize as you show her the pictures you had screenshot and saved from him. “I barely know him.”
Barely! You’ve chanted that in your head over and over. Not enough to know if you want to get to know him, or what to drop him. That’s the purgatory you’ve been living in.
Liza is uncharacteristically quiet as she scrolls up and down the chats and flips through the pictures. Her hair covers whatever expression she’s making.
That makes you nervous, and you start babbling.
“Yeah, I mean. I don’t think he’s real or anything–– It’s just for fun and it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
She freezes on a picture of him. The one where you can see a part of his smile and a crinkled eye. She zooms in and pauses again.
?
“Babe?” Her voice is cautious and slow. God. You don’t want to hear what she has to say next with this tone of voice…
“Hm?” You attempt to perk up, hiding the fact that you just gulped with nerves. It feels like you’re holding something sour in your mouth.
I don’t like this...
“So, he seems like a super nice guy and all but…” She speaks gingerly and wide eyed.
“But what?” You feel yourself recoil. 
As much as you talk a big game… it would still hurt to have this illusion shattered. This self-inflicted fantasy. You don’t want her to keep going. 
But you can guess what’s coming next.
...
“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland.”
Wait…...
What?!
-
A.N: WAH! she’s back!! well, as much as she can be. haha i know i have a million things always running at the same time but... i really will just ride the wave of inspiration as it comes.... that’s all i can do. anyway, hope you like this series! it’s going to be an exploration of starting new relationships in your young adulthood–– and how to handle be “The one” after “The One.” it’ll be a good time.
Thank you guys for reading! Please like, comment and reblog :) You’re all amazing. 
Much Love,
Madmadmilk 💫
** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks! 
1K notes · View notes
lupinlongbottom · 4 years
Text
Jacaranda pt. 2
Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader
Summary: The next two years at Hogwarts were to be the best in (Y/N)’s life; A happy relationship, friends she could almost call her siblings and subjects she was passionate about. But, Draco Malfoy had other plans for the two, a true test of their faith and trust. 
Prompt: Your Draco Malfoy imagine was sooo good! I thought it was so well written and such a nice relationship! It got me thinking about what do you think would happen to them during their 6/7th year? Like I'd assume even though they'd be on opposite sides of the war, she would understand why Draco does what he does... - Anon
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: a bit of swearing, mention of blood
A/N: I just felt like their story needed more, you know? idk. felt inspired and wanted to write for Draco again! I really enjoy writing conflict. Wild.
Part 1
__
The train was solemn, quiet, almost. Normally, (Y/N) found herself enjoying the laughter of the students around her, finding solace in the few friends she had acquired over the years. This year, however, (Y/N) sat next to Draco, quietly holding his hand as the train barreled towards Hogwarts. He hadn’t been the same since his father was thrown in to Azkaban, for good reason, (Y/N) thought. Draco idolized his father, tried to prove himself worthy to the man any chance he could.
The past summer was the first she had spent without Draco, without the laughter and sunshine he brought into her already bleak life. She found her afternoons lackluster, trying to read her textbooks underneath the glow of the blue tree, trying to bring herself to think of anything but him. Though they had confessed their truest feelings, the entirety of their relationship was thrown to the back burner as Draco claimed he had ‘more important things’ to attend to that summer.
(Y/N) knew she shouldn’t take it seriously, that losing his father was taking a toll on him. He neglected to send back owls, only finding it in himself to respond curtly, in short sentences when he did. Once, she received a letter with only two words; ‘trust me’. (Y/N) tried, tried terribly hard to believe him, to trust that Draco was alright. Even when the Malfoy’s were invited to the (L/N) Estate for lunch, Narcissa was the only one to show. To say that she was angry would be the smallest of understatements.
Still, she persisted to be a good friend, to comfort him in any way she knew how. She didn’t need to yell at Draco, as badly as she knew he deserved to hear her vile words, the one’s she had crafted over the summer, she held her tongue, quietly listening to the chatter around her.
“When do you suppose we’ll arrive to Hogwarts?” Pansy Parkinson asked, seated directly across the table from the couple, her eyes digging directly into (Y/N)’s profile.
“Roughly the same time as always, Parkinson,” Draco spat, his fingers tapping rapidly against the tabletop. Almost frantic. “Hogwarts,” he laughed. “What a pathetic excuse for a school.” 
“Draco,” (Y/N) mumbled, squeezing his hand for just a moment. She noted the way his features softened, briefly, his eyes looking warmer for the second he relaxed. “Are you alright?”
“Never been better, (Y/N),” Draco said, uninterested. “Just can’t wait to get back to classes, to learning about stupid spells and stupid plants—”
“Draco,” (Y/N) said, repeating his name.
“What?” He spat, turning directly towards (Y/N), now facing her head on. He stared at her for a minute, his brows furrowed tightly together. “What is it?”
“N-nothing,” (Y/N) said, pulling her hand away, her face hardened. “I think-I think I’ll leave you be,” she stood up. “Slughorn invited me to his carriage earlier, I’m going to take him up on his offer, I think,” (Y/N) said, turning her back to Draco. “I’ll…” she paused, her eyes flicking over the darkened boy, wondering where the light in him went. “I’ll see you.”
__
(Y/N) didn’t see much of Draco, practically at all. After confronting him about Potter’s broken and bloodied nose, Draco practically avoided (Y/N) every chance he got for a week after the fact, dodging her in the halls, once jumping over the couch in their common room to get past her. She had no idea where he was off to, where his mind was at. (Y/N) was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Despite her morals getting the better of her, (Y/N) decided the only way to confront Draco was to follow him. He hadn’t been showing up to classes, even when he did, his mind was elsewhere, face bleak and empty. She found, that he clung to Crabbe and Goyle more than normal, having them follow him like bodyguards, unlike his usual gaggle of lackeys. It wasn’t until she followed him to the seventh floor, past the ghastly tapestry that she knew where he was going.
The Room of Requirement. (Y/N) was aware of the room, having trained in Dumbledore’s Army for much time in her last year, hiding from the scrutiny and force of Dolores Umbridge. What on earth could Draco have a need for that the room could provide? A place to reflect? To mourn? 
She took a deep breath, pacing in front of the bare wall. Three times, she reminded herself. Three times she needed to walk past the wall, to really have the room understand what she required. After her third circle, a door grew, appearing from the marbling of the walls. Hesitantly, she opened it, finding herself surrounded by various objects, ranging in size and shape. A loud clatter could be heard farther in the room.
“Draco?” (Y/N) asked, walking towards the noise. Funneling past bookshelves, layers of dust coating a few. The rustling stopped, leaving (Y/N) hopelessly lost, until, however, she found the tip of a wand pressing against the flesh of her cheek.
“(Y/N)?” Draco said, relaxing his arm, his hand hovering in front of her face.
“Will you put your wand away?” (Y/N) said, pushing the stick away from her, down to Draco’s side. “Godric, sometimes you just get so trigger-happy.”
“How did you find me?” Draco asked again, his fist curling tightly around the base of his wand. “You should be in Potions class right now, surely you didn’t—”
“Skip?” (Y/N) laughed. “That’s a laugh, coming from you.”
“Why did you, then? Follow me?”
“Because I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Draco,” (Y/N) said plainly, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I’ve figured the only way to get you to talk to me is to find out where you’ve been going. I also figured that of all the teachers to be lax about me skipping would be Slughorn, considering…”
“Considering the stupid involvement you have in his ‘Slug Club’?” Draco spat, only mildly annoyed. 
“Hey, it’s a stupid club but it’s my stupid club,” (Y/N) retorted, crossing her arms. “He’s dull, but I find it comforting to be wanted somewhere for once, Draco,” she clicked. “Somewhere where I can be noted for my accomplishments. Not that you’d care enough about it.”
“(Y/N), did you really come here just to yell at me?” Draco asked, putting his wand in the back pocket of his trousers, now completely at ease with her presence. His eyes flicked around to the various objects beside (Y/N), never directly looking at her.  “I’m not in the mood to fight, quite exhausted, really.”
“You look it,” (Y/N) said, noting the dark circles under Draco’s eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” her hand rose to his jaw, thumb tracing underneath the growing bags hanging under his eyes, puffy and irritated.
“Always the detective,” Draco said, pushing her hand away gently. “Of course I haven’t been sleeping, my father was thrown into Azkaban. The Malfoy’s are the laughing stock of The Prophet, the butt of everyone’s jokes,” he spat, running a hand through his unruly hair, (Y/N) noted how it wasn’t styled like it normally was. “I’ve been… busy, taking over the position as the head of the Malfoy family.”
“Draco, you don’t mean—”      
“Are you really all that surprised?” Draco asked, staring (Y/N) directly in her eyes. “Since my father was caught, the Dark Lord needed someone to take his place—to finish the task that he was supposed to fulfill, to have me prove my place—”
“Your arm,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand out. “Show me. Now, Draco.”
“Do you really need proof?” He chided, cocking his head to the side. “Do you really need to hurt yourself over it?” 
“Yes,” she said, offering her hand again, preparing herself to forcibly pull his jumper off of him. “I need to see it, Draco. I don’t believe you, I don’t believe that you’d actually—”  
It was then, in the filtering light from the lamp above that (Y/N) saw it, the mark. Draco had ripped his sleeve upward, shining the black branding at (Y/N), the snake wriggling ever so slightly. She looked up at Draco’s face, noting the pain etched into his features. Fear, loathing, disappointment.
“Go on,” Draco said, thrusting his forearm closer to (Y/N). “Get a better look! Take it all in, (Y/N)! Is this the proof you wanted? Is this what you really wanted to see? Does it make you feel better?”
“Of course it doesn’t!” (Y/N) screamed, throwing her hands into fists, tightly holding them to her sides. “In no universe could this make me feel better, Draco! Godric, here I thought you’d be strong enough to ignore him, wise enough to get out of this mess before it swallowed you whole!”
“You think too highly of me.”
“I do because I love you, Draco!” (Y/N) spat, punching his chest, pushing him back a few steps. “Damnit,” she stumbled, rising her hand again, ready to strike. “You… you git!” 
Draco grabbed her wrist, stopping the incoming blow. “Love?” he clicked, throwing her hand to the side. “Please. You could never really love me, love the things that I’ve had to do.”
“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) said, feeling the tears stinging in her eyes, threatening to fall. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Draco. What? Are we going to ignore everything that happened to us? Our entire lives? The last year?”
“I can,” Draco clicked, his face stony. “You should too. Forget about me, run off with your pathetic do-good friends, it’ll pay off in the long-run, maybe you’ll be safe.”
“So that’s what this is? You’re trying to push me away,” (Y/N) said, taking a few steps back, her shoe hitting the foot of a chair. “You’re pathetic, Draco Malfoy.”
“I’m doing it because I care about you—”
“If you really cared, you’d stop,” (Y/N) said plainly. “I know that you’ve—you’ve got to do this,” she shook her head, almost unwillingly. “I know that’s what he wants you to think.”
“You could join,” Draco said, pulling on her jumper sleeve, hanging onto the threads with every ounce of will he could. “But,” his arm went slack. “I know that’s not—not what’s best for you. I’m trying, (Y/N),” his voice grew smaller. “I’m just trying to save my family. I have to do this, to ensure that he won’t lay a finger on anyone I care about, you included.”
“I doubt I’m at the top of his list,” (Y/N) scoffed, pulling her arm away.
“Really?” Draco laughed pitifully. “You don’t think so? (Y/N) (L/N), daughter and Heiress of the esteemed (L/N) family, famously standing to the side of the war, blending into the grey of the matter, taking neither side,” he held up his fingers, counting off. “Friends with Harry Potter, the number one enemy to the Dark Lord,” he pushed the pad of his finger back, making a point. “Girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, the son of his most recent oversight!” 
“‘Girlfriend’? So now we’re using that word?” (Y/N) said, her tone growing sour. “Funny, people don’t usually treat their girlfriends this way, do they?”
“What else do you want me to do, (Y/N)?” Draco laughed again, the sound almost painful. “I’ve been trying everything, anything, to get you to stop following me,” he sighed, pausing for a moment. “You don’t believe in him, the Dark Lord.”
“Of course I don’t, I never have—”    
“Then leave,” Draco said simply. “Leave before it gets real, (Y/N). Forget about me, ignore the things I have to do. Run, far away from all of this.”
“You really think that, don’t you?” (Y/N) shook her head, fighting the tears. “You want me to believe that you’re the monster, right? Right?!” Her words echoed against the various objects surrounding them, somehow floating in the air. Draco stood silent. “Fine then. Be happy. You’re the monster you’ve always feared.”
(Y/N) turned around, afraid she might cry, sob openly in front of the person she least wanted the pleasure of seeing it. A few quick skips and almost tripping over a large black cabinet, (Y/N) exited into the empty corridor. She knew that Draco had no choice, knew deep down that he was doing what he thought was right. She just wished that she was a part of that plan.
She didn’t speak to Draco for the rest of the year, unless it was purely in an academic setting. As badly as (Y/N) wanted to curse him into oblivion, she knew that this fight, the war that was directly under their noses, was the rift that inevitably was to tear them apart. She threw herself into her studies, gaining high marks in each of her classes, learning each and every curse and hex she could muster. If there was to be a war, a big one at that, she had to prepare herself.
(Y/N) had heard of the cursed locket, the poisoned mead. Harry tried to convince his peers, his friends, that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and her intended on killing Dumbledore. (Y/N) didn’t need much convincing, but she hardly gave Harry the satisfaction of being right. She never shared Draco’s secret, his mark, intending to take it to her grave. A last bit of thanks she owed the boy. The last bit she would owe him, ever.
When she heard of what Harry had done to Draco, (Y/N) couldn’t even bring herself to cry, to feel remorse. She knew it was terrible, what had happened, she knew she should’ve visited him in the Hospital Wing, hold his hand. But, she also knew it was against everything Draco wanted. He didn’t deserve the pleasure of seeing her, being comforted by her. After everything he said, what he said he wanted from her, she couldn’t bring herself to bother caring.
“There might be a fight,” Harry spoke honestly, pulling (Y/N) out of her mental tangent. “Death Eaters, in the school,” he swallowed thickly. “We need all the man-power we can get, if need be.”
“We’ve got your back, Harry,” Neville said, proudly. “Dumbledore’s Army, forever.”
“We can help,” Luna agreed, nodding her head.
(Y/N) sat for a moment, feeling a sense of pride well in her chest. The group of stragglers stared at the Slytherin, eyes flicking over her profile. She knew she had to answer, knew she finally had to pick a side. No longer will she be pushed to the sidelines, ignoring this impending war, much like her cowardice parents did once before. She finally stepped out of both ponds, picking a side.
“I’m in,” (Y/N) said, face hardened. “You can count on me.”
She stood with Harry.
__
Her seventh year was nothing like she had ever imagined it to be. The war was looming around them, Voldemort had taken over the Ministry, appointing Severus Snape to be Headmaster of the school. (Y/N) had deliberated on wether or not to even return to the wizarding school, if at all. Many of her classmates had made similar choices.
The atmosphere in the Slytherin House was a dark one, the majority of the house overjoyed with how the school was being run, how the war was turning out. Many of the students had Death Eater family members, or just supported Voldemort in the war anyway, leaving little worrying in the dungeons.
(Y/N) had never felt more alone. Her closest friends hadn’t shown up to school for that year, not sharing any insight on to their whereabouts or plans. She knew, however, that it was imperative that they kept the casualties to a minimum, knew that their lack of sharing was their way of keeping her and their other friends safe. Regardless, (Y/N) felt the people she had grown closest to were farther away than ever.
She had, however, toyed with the notion of talking to Draco. He, much to everyone’s surprise, showed up for the following school year. Many thought that he’d go and fully join Voldemort and his goons, but, nonetheless, there he sat, staring at the fireplace in the common room. He looked broken, eyes empty. Maybe she should entertain the idea some more.
“(Y/N),” he called from the couch, eyes not leaving the fireplace. He had caught her before she rose to her dormitory. Guess the time was now.
“Yes?” (Y/N) replied, turning to the blonde. She made sure to keep her voice level, composure even. “What do you want?”
“We should… talk,” Draco said, tapping his fingers rhythmically onto the arm of the dark green couch. “I haven’t—we haven’t spoken…”
“Funny,” (Y/N) spat. “I wonder why that is,” she began to turn back, only to hear a deep sigh come from Draco. “Alright, fine,” she moved over to the couch, standing squarely in front of the boy, crossing her arms. “Talk.”
“Wouldn’t you rather take a seat?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
Draco stared at his shoes, all black and polished. He didn’t quite know what to say, or how to say it. How could he? Surely he had broken her heart, if any of the pain was as mutual for their split in the last year was nearly as close to his. The large clock that hung in the center of the wall, off to the right of the fireplace ticked slowly, menacingly at the two.
“Well?” (Y/N) tapped her foot, the sound almost akin to a soft slap. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” Draco said, fearing it was all he could say. “Sorry for everything—”
“Are you?” She cut him off, leaning towards the blonde. “Are you really all that sorry? You don’t seem sorry, you seem sorry for the guilt you’ve caused for yourself.”
“I heard… about your parents—”
“Yeah? I’m sure you have, seen them at a few meetings, have you?” (Y/N) chuckled airily, loosening her arms for just a moment. “They’ve finally picked a side, good on them, right? I’m sure the Dark Lord is pleased to have the elusive and cowardice (L/N)’s on his side finally, yeah? Another pure-blooded family to add to the army?”
“(Y/N)…”
“No,” (Y/N) said, holding a finger. “You wanted to talk, so I’m going to talk,” she spat, making a point. “If you think for even a second that I’m going to follow suit with my parents, you’d be dead wrong.”
“Of course I don’t think you’re going to join,” Draco scoffed, finally growing annoyed. “You’d think your years of trailing behind Potter and his Gryffindor goons would’ve given me any other reason to believe that?”
“You still aren’t getting it, are you?” (Y/N) clicked, her arms now comfortably resting at her sides. “This isn’t about Potter anymore, Draco! This is a matter of war,” she let out a sigh, feeling the dark pit in her stomach burble.
“Yeah? Seems to me it’s still pretty much about Potter, isn’t it?”
“Merlin’s beard, will you stop talking about Potter for once?” (Y/N) said, finally releasing the words she’d pent up for years, always hidden on the back burner. “People are dying, Draco. Innocent people, with families and children. People are dying because of Voldemort’s sick and twisted narrative on what society should be, what our world should look like. But yeah, go off about Potter again.”
“Godric, (Y/N), you infuriate the shit out of me sometimes,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that I’m more than capable to understand what he’s doing?”
“You’re more than capable,” (Y/N) said, nodding lightly. “I just don’t understand why you’re still fighting on the wrong side—”    
“Here we go with the ‘wrong side’ nonsense,” Draco rose to his feet, squarely standing in front of (Y/N). “Do you know why I even bothered to show up to school this year? Why I’m not out there with him?”  
“It’s compulsory, mandatory for students to show up this year, if not—”
“It’s because I have a better chance of staying alive in these walls than out there,” Draco raised a finger, pointing to the outside world beyond the windows. “Even with my father now out of Azkaban, our family is still vying for his approval, still under scrutiny of what my father did.”
“Bully for you,” (Y/N) said cooly. “I’m sure your involvement with Dumbledore’s assassination sufficed enough, yeah?”
“You know about that?” Draco asked, pausing for a moment, taking a step back.  
“I’m not a fucking idiot, Draco,” (Y/N) laughed, picking at her nails for just a moment, trying to ignore how badly she wanted to slap him. “Harry had his suspicions all last year. My parents just couldn’t stop talking about it after their first real meeting. They never really cared for Dumbledore, they were just dying to share the news when I got back that summer.”
“I’m not the one who—”
“Do you think that it even matters? To me, anyway?”
“I guess not.”
“Say all you want about Hogwarts and how ‘poorly’ it was run before, but if you try to look me in the eyes and tell me that this Hogwarts, the one where we’re forced to use the fucking Cruciatus curse on anyone, try to tell me that this Hogwarts is what’s right in the world?” (Y/N) spat, barely taking another breath between her words. “I’m one of the lucky few, the Carrows don’t pay much attention to me unless I speak up—”
“Which you do—”
“Of course I do!” (Y/N) finally shouted. “I’m not going to stand around and watch children, literal children, get hexed and cursed and beaten because they won’t follow their ruling! Haven’t you noticed that I’m sporting this look of late?” She ran her finger to her cheek, a swollen and violently red bump met her touch. “Got that one for standing up for Neville, for doing what he’s doing.”
“Longbottom? Serves you right, anyone deserves to be beaten for standing up for that numpty,” Draco clicked, crossing his arms, receding back to the cushions of the couch. “Him, Weasley and Lovegood have been vandalizing the walls with their rubbish, speaking out too often, getting in the way of the Carrows.”
“Don’t you reckon I’m helping them?” 
“It’s crossed my mind,” Draco admitted. “Yes.”
“Then why do you sound surprised? Why are you ever shocked with my choices? You’ve known that I’ve made these choices in the past, yet every time I go against what you’d want me to do, you look like the world has ended,” (Y/N) said, her voice cooling down. “We’ve had similar starts in life, yeah, but where we are now,” she pointed a finger between the two, pushing it back and forth. “Is a direct correlation of character, Draco Malfoy. A testament to our true nature.”
“Funny,” Draco clicked his tongue. “You never thought that this life,” he pulled up his sleeve, the Dark Mark shining brighting against his pale skin. “That these choices defined me all those years ago, what changed? Was it this mark? Or was it the brainwashing of the others around you?”  
“Shove off, Malfoy,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing a hand to her hair. “Of course it was the mark! In years past it was easy to throw your name-calling and bullying under the rug, I hoped you would grow out of it…” She paused for a moment, hearing the loud clicks of the seconds passing by. “I still think you can,” (Y/N) said, a bit lower than before. “And I think you know that, too.”
“Doubtful.”
“There’s conflict in you,” (Y/N) said, lowering her hand. “You would’ve gone through with killing Dumbledore yourself if there wasn’t. I urge you to be better, trust yourself, not the words of the people around you. Listen to what Draco really has to say.”
(Y/N) exited the room, the weight of her words weighing heavily on Draco’s shoulders.
__
The air was somber, thick with sorrow and relief. The war had ended. Voldemort was dead. Friends and family were dead. The celebration in the Great Hall was of a temperate energy. While most were elated for the war to finally be over, many were still in mourning of the ones they had lost.
(Y/N), now covered in soot and blood, made her way through the hall. Her parents had fled the scene, not wanting to take part in the battle, on either side, truly showing their nature as the greyest of cowards. She nodded at friends she had passed, many scowled at her uniform, still wearing the green of Slytherin house, but it did not matter. What did matter, was the trio of blondes, all seated together, looking as if they didn’t belong.
“Draco,” (Y/N) sighed, finally making eye contact with the boy.
“(Y/N),” his blue-grey eyes lit up with a spark, jolting from the spot between his parents. He pulled her into a high embrace, unsure of what else to do. They could feel the eyes of the Malfoy’s on their backs, but didn’t care. (Y/N)’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, leaning up to hold him closer. Draco felt himself melt into the touch, his head falling into the crook of her neck. They didn’t speak, but merely swayed for a moment, the world around them unmoving.
“Hi,” (Y/N) said, pulling her head away, eyes flicking between Draco’s.
“Hi,” Draco repeated, chuckled airily as he fought a grin.
“You’re alive,” she mumbled into his chest, taking in the sickly smell of sweat and dirt.
“I know.”
“I’ve been thinking,” (Y/N) said, loosening her arms just a bit, but still not disconnecting from Draco.
“A dangerous pastime,” Draco said, finally succumbing to his grin. He couldn’t help it. “What’ve you been thinking about?”
“All of this,” (Y/N) said, honestly. “Us.”
“Us?” Draco said, his brows furrowing closer together. “What about us?” 
“Knocking on death’s door really puts life into perspective, you know?” (Y/N) said, glancing back up at the boy. “Makes you realize what you really want in life, while you still can.”
“And that’s what you really want?” Draco asked, almost hesitating. “You want me? Us?” (Y/N) nodded, the trace of a smile pulling at her lips. “I thought you were still mad at me, bloody hell, I know I would be.”
“I am,” (Y/N) nodded again. “Still mad at you, I mean. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it,” she laughed, the sound ringing into Draco’s ears. As beautiful as a bell. “But, you’ve changed. You still have conflict, I feel it in you, Draco. But you’ve chosen the right side, finally. Much more to work on, but that can be arranged,” (Y/N) smiled. “But, people do crazy things, think crazy things when…”
“When what?” Draco poked, knowing full well what (Y/N) was to say next. “Tell me, (Y/N), people do crazy things when what?”
“Shove it, Malfoy,” she said, pushing his face playfully away, her own shining as red as tomatoes. “You know full well what I was going to say.”
“You’re right,” Draco hummed, rocking back and forth on his toes, unsure of what to do. “I do.”
“Glad to see that you’re not as dim as I thought—”
“I love you.”
The words were quick, meaningful. Draco had never said them aloud, never fully to her. Only in his dreams did he imagine the moment would come where he could share his feelings with the one he desperately wanted to. Even in their fifth year, when their feelings collided, he never, truly, said those pesky three words. (Y/N) was always the one to say them, always two steps ahead.
“You—what?” (Y/N) babbled, stunned by the sudden confession.
“I love you,” Draco repeated, his words more determined. He ran his hand to her cheek, holding it gently. “Honestly, (Y/N), you should get your ears checked out, perhaps they were injured in midst the battle?”
“Funny,” (Y/N) clicked, leaning into his touch. “I just never thought that you’d actually—wow,” she shook her head slightly. “I never imagined that—”
“Would you shut up for a moment so I can kiss you?” Draco said, placing his thumb over her lips, successfully silencing the girl. (Y/N) nodded lightly, feeling her cheeks grow hot.
He pulled her in fiercely, his hand pushing itself behind her head, pulling her lips to his quickly. This is what they’d been fighting for all along, it was clear to both Draco and (Y/N). How plain it was, now that they had each other in their arms. The kiss was soft, full of their respect, their love for one another.
They had felt it, the eyes of the hall on them. Perhaps that’s what caused the two to pull away so soon, but even with the eyes of the world on the couple, they knew that it would be harder to separate them now than ever. 
“I suppose…” (Y/N) said, interlacing her fingers with Draco’s. “I suppose you should get back to your parents.”
“You’re right,” Draco hummed, his eyes still glued to the girl before him. “We should get back to them.”
“We?” 
“It’d be nice to reunite them with the little (L/N) girl, wouldn’t it? The one they’d been on my back about marrying anyway?” He grinned, watching (Y/N)’s smile creep up her face. “I’m sure they saw what just happened anyway, mum’d be on my back if I didn’t pull you over there anyway.”
“I suppose you’re right,” (Y/N) said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s go, then.”
The two walked hand in hand, not a care in the world for anyone but each other. They sat near Draco’s parents, smiling like idiots, watching the sunshine crawl over Narcissa’s face, the realization of happiness emitted in her son’s appearance. Lucius sat stiffly, unassuming to the whole affair, but proudly listened to (Y/N)’s quiet words of affection she had for his son.
Draco and (Y/N) continued to hold their hands, the feeling of warmth between their fingers radiated into their very hearts. Neither of the two were going to let go anytime soon, for they were not ignorant enough to let it happen again.
__
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callmeunstable · 4 years
Text
Angels & Demons - Chapter 1
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Chapter 1
Characters: Reader
Summary: She finds herself in the middle of a unknown forest after falling asleep. It seems like a normal forest until she gets to meet a mystical creature that welcomes her in a different world.
Warnings: Monsters, Cursing, Blood
Words: 2.000+
A/N: Hey! This is my first fic and I decided to place it in the universe of the greatest of the greatest. Geralt of Rivia! I don’t know where this will go 100%, but I know it’s going to be interesting. 😄 The reader starts of in our modern world and stumbles into the universe of The Witcher. I take my information mostly from the books and games but my fic is set based of the Netflix series so it’s basically beginners friendly.☺️
Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!
Song:
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“Two face, two face, yeah Black, white, left, right, yeah Up, down, all night, yeah Can't escape it ever Don't forget my name I don't feel the same On a trip, no train“
The music made her headphones vibrate. Probably loud enough for everyone around her to hear. If there was anyone. She was alone, hiking in the forest. It was what she always did when her anxiety got the best of her. The city is loud and dirty, squeezed full with people that never look around. Never realizing what was going on in the real world. At least what that’s what they called their reality. She always thought it was foolish to believe that they were alone in this big of a universe. Impossible.
Some stones here and there made her trip but she didn’t stop. She knew where she wanted to go and she didn’t intend to stop before she reached her destination. Kicking some branches out of the way and silently passing other hikers that greeted her with waving hand. She didn’t like the people in the city. All of them were selfish and money orientated. Of course, so tried to earn some money as a health center receptionist at her university but only to keep her head above water. Her focus was on her degree in medicine. She wanted to be able to afford a good life for her and her dad.
“And all these angels and demons Keep shoutin' and screamin' I'm fallin' from Eden”
She slowed down and let herself down on the ground.  Pulling her knees to her stomach and breathing in the fresh air of the trees. The pollution caused by cars and all of these different companies laying behind her. Closing her eyes and trying not to fall asleep. Her insomnia got worse on hot summer days like these. The missing air conditioning in her dorm room made it even worse. Two hours have to be enough to function. She couldn’t wait for the autumn to start. For the leaves to fall. And the crowds to shrink
“So fuck me like a rockstar, dancing on a cop car Nothin' in the world can stop me now Fucked up like a rockstar, riding in a cop car No one in the world can help me out-“
Her music was cut short and her eyes gazed at the screen. The Battery was almost empty. With an annoyed groan, she took off her backpack searching for her power bank. The only good thing summer had for her was the power of the sun being strong enough to charge the battery of the device. Still having her headphones in her ears. Just in case someone stumbled across and wanted to have a conversation. The easiest way to ignore people without seeming too harsh.
Her glance went up, analyzing anything she was able to catch. The mountains far back on the horizon hugged by a thick layer of clouds that protected them from any unwanted attention. The distance colored them in a blueish gray tone that would capture a lot of people. At least the ones who noticed and wanted to have a peerless experience.
Some strange black orbs were able to sneak into her daydream making her once again face the consequences of her lack of sleep. Slowly blinking she took a look at her watch. 2 pm. Still early. She just wanted to close her eyes for a few more minutes. To help her find her lost energy. Just in case she set her alarm for an hour and put her phone in the pocket of her pants. - “Everybody said that I'm falling, uh Took another line, I'm calling, uh I'm so sick of the nonsense, uh I'ma dive into the mosh pit, uh I don't really think I'm the problem I don't really think it's a problem Me plus me is a problem One gunshot could solve 'em Tell my friends I'm sorry though T-T-T-Tell my sins to go. And all these angels and demons Keep shoutin' and screamin' I'm fallin' from Eden”
The tones of her favorite song woke her up. Her headphones got disconnected while she was asleep. With panic caused by the rush of adrenaline, she paused the music. Taking a deep breath and enjoying the silence again. Her arms were stretched above her head and a yawn made it through her mouth. Slowly gaining back clear vision she looked up again. But something was different. The dusk was slowly setting in.
She failed to set her alarm correctly. But it could be worse, she wasn’t doing anything special today anyway. As she was standing up she looked for the mountains in the far, however, her view was blocked. Big deciduous trees rose in front of her. Maybe she fell asleep in a different place? A little far more into the forest? 
She got herself up and started walking her way back. At least what she thought was the right way. Somehow everything looked a little different. As different as forests could look like. The hiker trail was gone. Slowly breathing away her risen heartbeat she tried to focus. It’s just the forest how bad can it be? She always found her way out of it. She got lost a couple of times whilst exploring new paths but still. The air felt different. Not as heavy as she was used to. The trees were able to give her better oxygen as in the city but they just couldn’t hold all of the smog back.
Her feet automatically began to walk faster and faster as time went by and nothing seemed familiar anymore. She tried to find her starting point again but that seemed rather impossible right now. There was still a lot of light left but everything seemed strange.
She started to run. Jumping over the rocks and logs that blocked her way. As she was trying to bridge over the next log she wasn’t able to see the small lowering that led to her stumbling and rolling a couple of feet down. ‘Great, just great.’ 
Her thoughts were sarcastic, helping her to cope with the panic rising in her throat.
She looked up and let out a short scream. Some big bright yellow eyes were looking at her from above. They belonged to a child with pale blue skin. At least it looked like a child. She didn’t dare to move one muscle, staring at the creature in front of her.
It was barely as tall as a 9-year-old and it’s skin made it look like it was suffocating. A rough crown made out of sticks sat on top of its head. It wore some pants that had seen better days. They seemed to be made out of a cheap fabric that was ripped in several places. A green scarf was hanging from its neck. 
“Hello.” It could speak. His mouth was stretched to wild smile.
“It’s been some time since an ol’ villager got lost in ma forest. That was some fall you had. Are you alright?” Still staring at the creature she tried to get her words together.
“Ehm…yes I tripped and fell. I don’t think I’m hurt. Thank you.”
“Good to hear. So what’s your name? I’m James.”
She hesitated. She didn’t even know if this creature was human. She couldn’t trust just anyone.
“Alva. My name is Alva.”
“Nice to meet you, Alva. So what did ya run away from? Thought the Drowners were after ya.” Drowners? What the fuck are Drowners?
“Yeah so. Excuse me the question but you seem rather … blue?” She was scared to ask something like this but this little creature seemed friendly.
“Oh that. Have you never seen a good ol’ Godling? Because that’s just what I am indeed.” The little boy laughed and seemed to be happy to have found some company.
“That is a Godling?”
“You never heard of us amazing Godling?”
The little blue boy explained to her that Godlings are woodland creatures dwelling in burrows and moss-covered hollow stumps on the outskirts of human settlements. They are deeply rooted in their home territory and perform acts of care and guardianship to those dwelling near their burrows. They watch over people as well as animals, but, shy creatures by nature, they try to do so while remaining unseen. Godlings are drawn to joy and innocence, and so delight in the company of children and usually only show themselves to the young.
“That’s why I am talking to ya. You seem fun. At least you look funny.” The boy started to walk around her while lifting her flannel and poking her skin.
‘He’s the one looking like a tall version of a smurf. What is he talking about?’ Her thought rushes inside of her head, making her regaining the feeling of dizziness.
“So you’re telling me you’re some kind of magical creature as in Harry Potter?” The girl tried to order her thoughts by sitting down and trying to hold on to the facts the little guy was telling her. Maybe she was in a coma? Or dreaming? Possibly. These are the only explanations she could come up with.
“I don’t know anyone called Harry Potter. Is he a friend of yours?”
“Ok, listen up. You’re probably just part of my imagination so why don’t we have some fun while it lasts?” As long as she sleeping and lucid dreaming she could at least make the best out of it.
“Yes, let’s have some fun! I love singing, I love music! I heard some strange melody coming from your direction. That’s how I found you.” James started to do some little happy jumps and clapping.
“Oh, you mean this?” Alva took her phone out of her pocket and showed it to him.
“What witchy device is that suppose to be?”
“No magic. Technology. Let me show you.” She pressed on some Icons and song from earlier continued.
“So fuck me like a rockstar, dancing on a cop car Nothin' in the world can stop me now Fucked up like a rockstar, riding in a cop car No one in the world can help me out.”
The little one danced to the music and showed off some rather random dance moves. Spinning in circles, jumping up and down and throwing his hands in the air.
Still thinking of her lucid dreaming she joined her little Godling friend. Turning the music louder and louder they enjoyed themselves.
Until a growl broke the peace of the music. But both James and Alva were to focused on having von dancing to notice some strange noises. They didn’t hear it, down to the moment when the girl got hit by something sharp, making her fall to the ground.
“Don’t stop dancing Alva, you’re no fun.” The Godling still didn’t realize that Alva was sitting on the ground covering her bleeding upper arm with her hand. Looking up she saw the scariest creature she could’ve imagined. 
In front of her is standing a sickly blue or green colored human, with slime and sludge oozing out of every pore and the acrid stench of rot wafting off of it. No, that wasn’t a human.
“James! What the fuck is that?” The girl cried for help.
Finally objectifying the situation, James was hurrying towards the creature when it rose its arm for another attack.
Covering her face Alva started to realize that this is the moment she was going to die. You can’t get hurt in a dream. That is just not possible. Her arm was on fire, giving her a pain she never had felt in her entire life. This was real. Waiting for the next hit but it never came.
Slowly she opened her eyes to see only James in front of her. The monster not in sight.
“Where did he-?” Completely shocked by the situation and being unable to talk, Alva starred at the boy.
“Don’t underestimate the power of a Godling. Nothing comes between me and my forest. And since you stumbled in it you’re a part of it.” He looked down at her bleeding arm and his eyebrows furrowed.
“You need a healer. As much as I’d love to I can’t heal it.”
The words barely got to the girl. She was scared for her life. She never believed something like this could happen. But one thing she knew for sure. This wasn’t her reality.
“And all these angels and demons Keep shoutin' and screamin' I'm falling from Eden.”
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gen, sex + misc for honeyseed xx
stella....... u pure angel of love and light.......... ftr everyone stella sent me “all remaining sections” originally and that was ALL OF THEM so she blessedly sent me a revised version. : ‘ ) ily honey!
ultimate otp meme
gen:
rate the ship -   awful | ew | no pics pls | i’m not comfortable | alright | i like it! | got pics? | let’s do it! | why is this not getting more attention?! | the otp to rule all other otps | as you can tell i have a lot of feelings about these dumpster fire people
how long will they last? - elliot will say “until john dies and i have all of his money, and i can marry a handsome young suitor” but she really means until the cold, black end--it just takes a little for them to get there, you know, lots of making up and breaking up. nothing good is ever free etc and so on
how quickly did/will they fall in love? - john says immediately, elliot says she’s not so easily won over. she’s not, but john pretty much immediately went “mine” as soon as he realized what was going on and elliot’s never been wanted like that before, so it was pretty instant. so instant that she almost never says “i love you” because it just goes unspoken.
how was their first kiss? - i did laugh out loud at this. BAD. or like i guess good, by some standards, but it came on the heels of elliot basically telling john to go fuck himself (could it have come any other way? jury says no).
sex:
who is on top? - i want to say 60% ell and 40% john. elliot struggles relinquishing any kind of control and john likes when she takes the reins anyway, so most of the time it’s elliot telling him what to do and john going heart eyes over it.
who is the one to instigate things? - definitely john. elliot likes to mind her fcking business most of the time, but on occasion, if she’s in a mood, she’ll start things. almost always john, though.
how healthy is their sex life? - barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | they are humping each other on the couch right now | john wishes it was that last option, but it’s pretty fucking close. once they’re together, anyway. the tenuous start of their relationship leaves much to be desired for elliot, but once she feels like john’s serious about her, my poor touch-starved girl can’t get enough of him.
how kinky are they? - straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head | pls i will not comment
how long do they normally last? - at first, not very long, because sex is one of those things that elliot usually wishes is over almost immediately. as she gets more and more comfortable with john though it definitely gets quite comfy in their room once they get going.
do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - if someone were to make a comment on the ratio (john) they would gladly say that there is an inequality concerning how many times elliot finishes (the most) vs how many times he does. elliot will not disregard this truth.
how rough are they in bed? - softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make dwayne johnson blush. also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. | don’t @ me
how much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - no touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | a little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | they snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory | elliot’s body temperature fluctuates so much that she is constantly sticking her cold hands under john’s shirt but also complaining that he can’t spoon her because his body is a furnace. this doesn’t stop him from trying, of course, but greatly impedes the amount of time they spend cuddling.
misc:
who takes the longer showers/baths? - definitely elliot. and john isn’t allowed to complain about it either. anytime he goes “what do you need to take a 3 hour soak for?” she says “my agonies”.
who takes the dog out for a walk? - also elliot. boomer would never behave for john like he behaves for elliot, and john is 10000000% accepting of this fact and it definitely does not bruise his ego a single bit.
how often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - they really only decorate for christmas, because scarlet would have a brain aneurysm if they didn’t (once the kids are around, anyway). elliot will still decorate for other holidays but they go all out for christmas.
what are their goals for the relationship? - you mean aside from learning how to shut the fuck up? john wants kids. man oh man he wants kids. elliot has a crippling fear of being a mother because she just doesn’t think she has the resources to do it well, but pretty soon she comes around on the idea. beyond that, it’s mostly about loving each other--they both have wretched, awful parts about them that they want to worship in each other.
who is most likely to sleep till noon? - elliot. there is an 80% chance she will throw a punch if someone fucks with her sleep. john wakes up at like, normal people hours (thanks to working with isolde for so long, he now has an internal clock that had to run on her schedule for so many years) so he gets up at like, 7 or 8.
who plays the most pranks? - john, even though he fucking SHOULDN’T the man’s got a goddamn deathwish. elliot tends to give as good as she gets but her pranks just aren’t at the same level as john’s. 
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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years
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Put Me in a Movie
Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Obviously, I’m too excited about this to write a slow burn.)
Summary  Prologue    Chapter1   
Warnings- SMUT/NSFW, infidelity, sex while intoxicated, mentions of birth control.
Chapter 2- F**king (Up)
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A week had passed since they’d kissed in her hotel room and while Y/n and Keanu had tried to act as if nothing had happened, things had gotten weird between them. They’d stopped having meals together, text messages and phone calls were only exchanged where necessary and they’d even avoided each other when they weren’t working. 
Admittedly, Y/n missed Keanu, they had only known each other for a short while, but he had become a close friend and she had never been good at making those. Or really, friends in general. Y/n couldn’t tell if the distance bothered Keanu as well, but deep down, she hoped it did, then maybe he’d approach her and they could tell themselves that the kiss was nothing but a lapse in judgement. Y/n had thought about doing it herself, but she had never been one to do something like that. No, Y/n didn’t do confrontation nor did she ever make the first move. Her mother had always said that an attitude like hers she wouldn’t get far, that she’d have to learn to put herself ‘out there’ if she wanted to get things done. Arguably, Y/n thought that she was doing just fine as is, but that was a different story.
That Friday, Jackson had wrapped up filming around eight and some of the cast and crew had planned to go to a locally owned bar near the hotel for drinks. At first, Y/n had agreed, thinking that a few drinks might be good and might help her open up and make some new friends, but eventually, she had chickened out. So while everyone had returned to the hotel or wherever they were staying to get ready and meet up in the next hour, Y/n had gone back to her room with every intention of having a long soak in the tub, getting into her pajamas afterwards and them being lulled to sleep by some movie or the other.  
All was going as planned for a while and after her bath, Y/n had even ordered up a bottle of wine to keep her company. In poor judgement, she finished off the bottle, and already tipsy, she made the even worse choice of cracking the seals on a couple of the tiny bottles of hard liquor in the complementary bar.
By midnight, Y/n was past tipsy moving on to drunk. She was a happy drunk, the kind that became more social after a few drinks. And social she became.
Clumsily, Y/n reached for her phone and unlocked it. Her vision had just started to double and some part of her knew that if she called him, Keanu would definitely know she was drunk. So instead, Y/n texted him, “Hey, are you still at the bar?”
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When Keanu stumbled into his hotel room, he was pretty sure that he couldn’t exactly call himself sober. There seemed to be two of everything and he knew that he would probably wake up the next morning regretting the last few drinks. Thankfully, they had the weekend off. 
After slapping the light switch at the entrance, Keanu clumsily shrugged off his leather jacket; tossing it to, and then narrowly missing, the arm chair in the hallway. As he made his way through the suite, headed towards the bedroom with every intention of just face flopping on the bed, Keanu’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. Fishing it out took longer than it would have if he were sober, but at the sight of Y/n’s text, he smiled. He had been wanted to talk to her, but didn’t know what to say. “Sorry for kissing you” Seemed weird and “Can we just pretend it never happened?” Was way to harsh. 
Squinting, Keanu read her text, auto correct his saving grace as he typed a reply, “No, I just got in, what’s up?”
The device dinged in his hand when her response came through minutes later, “Can I come over?”
“Sure,” he sent, hoping his one word reply would exude an air of nonchalance. Tossing the phone to the coffee table, he cringed at how it sounded hitting the surface, heading to the nearest mirror to try to rectify what he'd be presenting to Y/n; a corrective hand through his hair, a little pull to straighten his black t-shirt and for some reason, tugging on the belt loops of his jeans. 
He shouldn’t have been that antsy.
They were just friends
A knocking on his door ripped him away from his thoughts and when Keanu pulled open the door, Y/n stood in the hall, dressed in a grey contrast camisole with a flimsy bow under her breast line with decorative, plastic buttons leading to it and a matching pair of loose shorts. Baby pink lace edged the hems and her top left part of Y/n’s stomach exposed.
The little silver stud was real!
Keanu hadn’t pegged Y/n as the kind of person who had one of those. Not wanting to seem like a creep for staring, Keanu tried to match her soft smile, “Hey.”
“Hi,” she huffed, “How was drinks?”
Awkwardly, he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous around her. Could it be the alcohol? Shouldn’t it have had the opposite effect. Maybe it was the fact that she was so sparsely dressed.
“It was good, yeah,” he nodded slowly, “How was your night?”
“Uh....” Y/n scrunched her nose. She hadn’t expected their interaction to be that awkward. But then again, she wasn’t sure what she expected. At first, all the drinks she’d had made going up to Keanu’s room seem easy, though, Y/n quickly realized that it was because, in her head, she had completely skipped over the uncomfortable conversation and gone straight to the part were things were back to normal. “It was good, you know....I just....hung out....”
“Yeah, yeah,” Keanu nodded slowly, “Me too,” scoffing quietly, he lightly tapped his forehead, “But you already knew that, obviously. Cause you know....drinks and.....well you get it.”
Y/n chuckled, Keanu was never that unsure of himself. He exuded quiet confidence and she had definitely grown to learn that he was the strong, silent type. He spoke when he needed to and certainly didn’t waste time stuttering over frivolous small talk, “Are you drunk?” Something about the question seemed uncharacteristically funny and Y/n was overtook by a fit of loud giggles.
Though he couldn’t readily find the humor in the matter, Y/n’s laughter was contagious, “Maybe,” Keanu leaned on the door frame, folding his arms across his broad chest. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Y/n laugh that loudly and he’d just noticed that her lips were darker that usual, as if she’d been sucking on a lollipop, or even drinking red wine. “Are you drunk?”
Y/n’s giggles intensified, “Maybe.”
They continued like that for a while, though, when another guest passed in while walking down the hall, slowing down at the sight of two celebrities just casually standing there, Keanu invited Y/n inside. “I missed you tonight,” he commented casually. Really, he’d only accepted the invitation after hearing that Y/n was going to be there, thinking that it would have been the perfect opportunity to rekindle their friendship. But when he’d reached the bar asking around for her, a production assistant informed him that Y/n had bowed out at the last minute. Leaving then might have seemed rude; Keanu had already ordered himself a drink and had promised that the next round was on him. So, he had stayed, and quicker than he could object; a couple drinks had turned into more than he could recall. 
“You did?” Y/n’s cheeks warmed and she looked even cuter than she had before; all red in face and dressed in girlish pajamas.
“Yeah, of course,” they stood in small living room, not enough space between them. Keanu’s expression sobered, though his state of mind didn’t, “I’ve missed you all week.” Never in a million years did he think he’d admit that.
Y/n dragged her lower lip between her teeth, glancing down at the cream marble floor. “Have you been thinking about it?”
“Our kiss?” Keanu’s tongue darted out to moisten to his lips. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t. By the looks of it, it had been on Y/n’s mind too. “I should have apologized, Y/n I’m-”
“It’s okay,” she smiled softly, finally meeting his gaze again, “It just happened, you know?”
“Yeah,” Keanu shoved his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t sure if she was upset about it, or if it had made her just as confused as it did him. When their lips had met, melting into each others, Keanu had desperately tried to recall a time when a mere kiss had felt like that, eventually concluding that it had been many, many years ago. Keanu knew that the feeling was illogical; Y/n was so young, there was no way she could have any interest in more than friendly affections for a man his age. Besides, she had someone. 
Determining that it shouldn’t have happened in the first place, Keanu assured, “It won’t happen again, promise.”
Y/n tilted her head, loose hair falling like a waterfall of silk over her shoulder, “Would it be so bad if it did?”
Keanu folded his arms again, and that time, Y/n couldn’t help but notice the impressive bulge of his biceps, attractively constrained by one of his company t-shirts, “What do you mean?”
Emboldened by all the booze, Y/n didn’t answer verbally, instead, she nearly lunged forward, reaching on her toes to cup Keanu’s face, his beard rough against the softness of her palms as she pulled him down, crashing her lips to hers. It was so out of character for her, that Keanu was left wide eyed.
It took a full five seconds before Keanu responded, his hands falling at her waist. That night, their kiss felt different from the first; feverish and inviting. Keanu’s tongue slipped past the barrier of Y/n’s teeth, massaging hers, the taste of wine and some other kind of booze lingering on her lips. 
Y/n looped her arms around Keanu’s neck and his hands skimmed her body, circling around her petite frame to cup her ass. Urging her to jump, Keanu easily caught Y/n in his arms, his lips leaving hers, traveling fervently to her neck, his tongue flicking the warm skin behind her earlobe before making her moan with hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.
Y/n’s fingers tangled in dark mane, her long manicured nails grazing his scalp. Keanu temporarily set her on the back of the cream Victorian sofa. Pulling away, their pupils already blown with lust, his erection, constrained by his jeans pressed into her inner thigh. “Are you sure?” He searched her eyes, looking for some kind of confirmation.
Smirking, Y/n started fumbling with the fastenings on Keanu’s pants; pulling off his belt and then undoing the button and zipper, “Fuck yes,” she breathed and that was all it took for Keanu to gather Y/n in his arms again, walking them over through the open double doors of the bedroom. When Keanu sat on the edge of the bed, Y/n clumsily pulled his t-shirt over his head. Her own top followed after, the flimsy cotton almost looking fragile in Keanu’s hasty grip as he tossed it away. 
Like that, he was almost face to face with her breasts and not thinking twice, he took her left nipple in his mouth as his free hand favored the other, gently pinching and groping. Keanu alternated between teasing her sensitive skin with his teeth and swirling his expert tongue around her hardened nipple. Moaning, Y/n eagerly pressed his face closer to her chest, grinding his his lap, desperately trying to add friction to her growing arousal. 
“Keanu,” she pleaded between whimpers and moans. The roughness of his jeans added to the soft fabric of Y/n’s shorts still wasn’t enough and she could feel herself growing impatient, longing for Keanu to be buried deep inside. 
“What do you want?” His voice low and husky with desire, “Tell me what you want babygirl.”
“You,” she groaned, “Fuck, Ke....I want you.” Without waiting for anything further, Keanu man-handled her, dumping her on top of the sheets. Y/n’s hair was sprawled out around her, perfectly framing her delicate features. Keanu’s hands ran the length of her body before yanking her shorts down, letting it fall wherever it pleased.
Hovering over Y/n, Keanu came down to kiss her again, biting her lower lip as he pulled away to admire her naked form beneath him. She was perfectly alluring; all perky breasts, unblemished skin that seemed to glow in the low lighting and perfect curves. Being with her seemed almost surreal.
A man his age shouldn’t be with a woman that young.
With the aid of all the alcohol still coursing though his system, Keanu was able to quickly push the thought out of his mind; they were two adults who could do whatever they pleased.
Parting her legs, one of his large hands trailed the inside of her thigh, and he grinned cheekily when the tips of his fingers brushed her drenched folds and she shuddered, “You’re so wet already.”
With his thumb rubbing her cilt, Keanu slipped two digits inside, marveling at how her back arched, longing for his touch, her mouth agape. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” suddenly, he stopped, extracting his fingers, much to Y/n’s dismay. He was drunk, but not that drunk. Y/n seemed confused and Keanu held himself up with hands planted on the mattress on either side of her head, “You’re not a...”
“Virgin?” Y/n’s brows raised in question. Feeling adventurous, she teased, “So what if I was?” 
“I....” Keanu trailed off. He couldn’t do that. Sex was one thing, taking her virginity? He hadn’t done something like that since he was in his twenties. Besides, who wanted to lose their virginity drunk?
“I’m not,” Y/n smirked, “Now,” her legs crooked up meet his waist, her toes pushing down his pants and underwear, “Are you going to fuck me or not.”
“Baby,” his low tone almost a rough whisper, “You have no idea.”
With a firm hold on her hip, Keanu lined himself up with Y/n’s ready entrance, pushing into her without further warning. “Fuck!” Y/n moaned loudly, her nails sinking into his shoulder blades, her eyes rolling back into her head as they slipped closed. His girth stretched her almost to the point where it hurt and after a moment, when he started moving, she could feel the bump of every vein roughly brushing her slick walls.
Keanu swore at the feeling of Y/n cocooning his member perfectly, so tight and warm. With a grunt, he rolled his hips faster, his dark eyes trained on how each thrust jerked Y/n’s body up into the pillows, her breasts bouncing slightly. 
Y/n’s lips were parted, barely a few centimeters apart as iniquitous gasps fell off them. Urging him closer, with her smooth, soft legs tangled around his waist, she begged, “Faster, go faster.”
With a throaty growl and his lips returning to attack her neck, Keanu’s movements became rougher and faster; pulling out fully only to drive his cock back into her center. Reaching between them, he used the ‘v’ of his calloused index and middle fingers to stimulate her cilt.
Her breaths went ragged and her praises sounded more like incoherent babbles. Her sinful noises only served to to work Keanu up more and just as Y/n’s orgasm quaked her legs, her broken breaths growing shallow as his name left her lips, her mind a jumbled mess, “Keanu!” Everything seemed blurry and Y/n swore fireworks went off in her mind, “Fuck!” Her fingers curled his hair and her eyes were squeezed shut as waves of pleasure coursed through her.
Riding out her high, Keanu kept his unsteady eyes on Y/n below him, enjoying how she looked like that. Feeling himself growing closer, Keanu’s hips jerked faster until they stiffened, his thrusts growing rigid. The feeling of her slickness coating his cock coupled with the feeling of her throbbing around him, squeezing him, was enough to pull him over the edge. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, Keanu remembered that he wasn’t wearing a condom, and he had no clue as to if Y/n was on any sort of birth control, so, even in his less than credible state, he pulled out, his creamy cum instead coating her inner thighs and staining the light colored sheets. It wasn’t as pleasurable as it would have been to fill her up, but it was the kind of responsible thing to do.
Breathing heavily, Keanu collapsed on his back, right next to Y/n, who was still facing the ceiling, sated. Her bare chest rose and fell with heavy breaths and the light sheen of exertion dribbled down the valley of her breasts. “Would now be a good time to mention that I have an IUD?” Y/n giggled quietly, breaking the steady silence.
“Fuck,” Keanu breathed, frowning, “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Y/n yawned, her lids heavy, her being begging for sleep, “Better luck next time, I guess,” her words were jumbled and she barely seemed to have a handle on her thoughts.
“You could have.....” Keanu stopped when he glanced at Y/n again; her eyes were closed, lashes barely brushing the apple of her cheeks and pale pink lips left slightly ajar by even breaths. Staring at her, Keanu could feel himself being lulled to sleep himself, her serenity, much like her melodious laughter; contagious, and just before he let himself succumb, he pulled the sheets up over her modesty, turning on his side before finally falling into a drunken, sex-satisfied slumber. 
*****
Tagging- @fickensteinn​  @babygirltaina​  @paanchu786​  @fanficsrusz​  @thesadvampire​  @harrisongslimited​  @ladyreapermc​
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