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mxsquibby · 2 months

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Got my ass handed to me in ranked zero builds so

I think it’s time to finally write my Madoka magica movie four theory thoughts

MxSquibby's Walpurgisnacht Rising theory thoughts

(Thoughts are based off my knowledge of the franchise so I could be missing vital info)

I think the big premise for this movie is showing off Walpurgisnacht’s lore or some info about her. and like usual she is going to disrupt Homura’s wish. Or In this case her world and probably force homura to make a choice.

by the logic of Homura’s wish.

Three peoples karmic destiny should have been cranked up to a billion since the timelines always converged the most around 3 people.

Madoka(who the wish was for) and her amount karmic destiny is why she was able to make the ultimate wish and become the law of cycles for magical girl kind.

Homura (who made the wish) increased her own amount of karmic destiny which is why she was able to split apart Madoka (and take her memories?) and rewrite the universe to her liking which essentially just what she did in her labyrinth, but with more production value and can change the entire universe and not limited within the confines of her labyrinth and witch magic.

I’m guessing Homura’s got Madoka in what I like to call “The Good Place Season 2”

Which light spoilers for that show ahead but

One of the main characters, Michael, traps Eleanor and the other humans within a time loop. Erasing their memories every time Eleanor figures out what Michael is doing to them. Repeating this over and over. Over 800(0?) times, with each time him slightly tweaking and changing things to try and get a different outcome of her not figuring it out.

I think this what Homura’s doing to an extent. We saw at the end of rebellion, how fragile Homura’s hold on Madoka’s memories was. However all homura really has to do is ground Madoka back down to homura’s rewritten reality and since a part of Madoka does want to stay on earth and live a normal life this helps her forget easily of her god hood. However this very fact is what will always make her remember in the end. If madoka truly starts to enjoy her life on earth, She knows deep in her SOUL that she sacrificed her normal human life for a cosmic duty of Saving magical girls so anytime she thinks to hard about it or just kind of realizes she should only being viewing the lives of normal people not interacting with them she will start to remember and become magical girl god again but homura will just grab her again and reset her memories and then rewrite the timeline. Starting once again… essentially... ANOTHER TIME LOOP. Homura’s favorite thing 😂😭

And I’m guessing Homura’s got to do this a lot. Like hundreds of times. And if sayakas around during one these moments she sure as hell is also going to remember homura being a “devil” so homura will have no choice but to rewrite the timeline again and again. With each time she’s most likely going to make slight changes to the world in attempt to make Madoka not remember. I think it’s why she remembers so easily at first. It was waaaay to similar to the thousands of timelines her and homura lived through (ultimate Madoka is aware of all the timeloops homura and her went through so following that similar time loop structure will probably make her remember faster so Homura is going to start changing things. Which is whyyy we see the girls in different costumes at one point in the trailer. (I think this is why in that old ass concept trailer we saw Madoka being a ballerina, one to resemble Madoka just being part of Homura’s elaborate play now but to show her trying normal human things. Homura's going to help her find her human dreams. Maybe madoka wanted to be a dancer. Then after that fails Homura probaby thinks if she can find a perfect scenario where Madoka find some sense of self on earth maybe she will stop remembering her godhood. Maybe Homura can finally live a full human life with her and watch her grow. Maybe Madoka being a dancer, a painter, a musician, a celebrity. Something right? Will stop Madoka from reaching her magical girl potential. Homura’s so obsessed with giving Madoka the life she shouldn’t have had to sacrifice. So she will try over and over to make her happy. To find the one scenario...timeline if you will, where Madoka will be truly happy within her rewritten world.

Which will be a fun way to show the girls in different scenarios that we usually wouldn’t see them in. So like cool new costumes!!! Like cool bandage sayaka is just one of Homura’s AU’s or a by product of one of the new timelines she has rewritten. And sayaka is probably going to have a bigger part. Idk why I just feeeel it. She has special secretary powers. I believe in her. We saw all that special treatment they gave her in S2E1 of the anime timeline of magia record. Bitches love Sayaka. And like Bebe also has secretary powers I guess lol. But she just wants to hangout with mami and eat cheeeeeeese (yoooo plagg and bebe would be besties)

but This movie is just explaining the 3rd girl who’s karmic destiny was increased by this wish and then background info cause we know like nothing about her…

Walpurgisnacht (the reason homura HAD to repeat timelines)

Walpy (for short) is going to put an end to this loop homura and Madoka are trapped in. Or at least change or add to it.

what is concerning is that Walpy’s karmic destiny was already extremely high to begin with for her to end up looking like that. So logically she should be stronger than devil homura, and the only reason she isn’t stronger than ultimate Madoka is because of the wish of Ultimate Madoka made to erase witches. But since madoka’s slightly nerfed at the moment trapped in Homura’s rewritten reality, no one’s actively checking on the law of cycles. Sure girls don’t turn into witches but without Madoka actively monitoring the cycle this might have given some version of Walpy enough time or power to form or to come back and interfere. So I’m guessing homura might have to choose between keeping her time loop safe (and live her fantasy life with madoka) or let Madoka out so she can defeat Walpurgisnacht from destroying the universe homura has tried gone so far to get control of…. Cause homura, at least historically can not beat Walpy lol. So i'm guessing Walpy will always come back to cause universal destruction unless madoka is back. So will Homura be able to let go of her love for sake of the universe? a choice between keeping her love down on earth with her or letting her go and accepting that she’s nothing more than a universal concept. But like Homura’s crafty. She could weasel her way out of this

I will say a crack in this theory is from my own understanding that Walpy is made up of many magical girls? So either we are dealing with many girls coming in or some fusion magical girl perhaps? Or I guess just one of the girls from Walpy would do right? Perhaps the first girl? Though we don’t know if this was an individual wish, and then she absorbed other magical girls/witches or like a group wish? Kind of like the hospital trio. Like you can do a group wishes I suppose.

ALSO another addition to my thoughts. Homura isn’t the Antagonist. Should state that. Kyubey is. And like i haven’t even talked about this fucker yet. (Well in terms of the franchise as a whole, guessing for movie 4 Walpy is our more traditinal antagonist (She also probably takes the form of homura at first to fuck with her, Why we see two homura's in the Movie Poster but thats just a theory lol) but He? little rat noy. Within Homura’s new world order. He’s Most likely just collecting all despair and probably just collecting and suffering with the weight of all negative human emotions and curses within a labyrinth. Like. She probably just making him and the hive mind know what it’s life to feel emotions, specifically all those negative ones you’ve been putting magical girls through for hundreds of years. But like he could be up to some fuck shit. He technically is like a robot made by an alien race, right? So like they could finally pull up on us or something and be like “what have you done to my robo rat sons, you fucks”

But anyway I’m rambling a bit now but homura isn't the antagonist because she pulls Madoka from the law of cycles for a multitude of reasons, she states it’s for her love for Madoka. Which yes that is true but homura also understands Madoka should have never had to make this wish. The flower field scene conversation in rebellion is what makes homura realize this. Madoka is a normal girl, she just never got the time to figure herself out or to figure out normal human dreams. She was a young naive girl, where in many timelines used her wish to save a cat or make a cake. Because at first glance being a magical girl is a once in a lifetime opportunity, you don’t pass up. So she never got a shot at a real life when she should have. Madoka never wanted to leave behind her friends and family. She loves them. Like the girl don’t got much That’s like one of her core traits, she loves her friends, is a great daughter, and a great big sister, love cute things, is pink like 😭😭 But Madoka was just another cog in the magical girl machine but because of Homura’s wish it gave a Madoka a chance to look at the whole machine and see what the fuck has been going on. So Madoka, with no real dreams or goals, but is given the opportunity and explicitly told by the evil rat himself that she could make literally ANY wish. So when she sees everything and realizes she has the unique opportunity to save all magical girl kind from their souls being tortured for all eternity until murdered by another magical girl well no shit she HAS to make this wish. She doesn’t have any other choice in her eyes. To badly paraphrase Kyoko. "Something something if you have a loving family and good food on the table why on earth would you sacrifice that to be a magical girl? but who knows maybe one day you’ll be backed into a corner and you’ll HAVE to make a wish. If that day comes something something I guess i can approve of you being a magical lass"

So like. Is it fair? Ya know. All this is Kyubey and some alien race’s fault. Why should these girls have to suffer because of him. Who cares about the heat death of the universe. Let it burn, because if torturing magical girls is the only way of keeping it alive then fuck the universe. Like Madoka shouldn’t have to sacrifice her human life to save all these girls from suffering because they shouldn’t be suffering. They shouldn’t be turning into witches. Like 😭 and homura doesn’t think it’s fair that Madoka should be the one to make this sacrifice to save magical girls because Madoka wouldn’t have even been able to make the ultimate wish if not for homura’s wish but like also homura shouldn’t have been turned into a magical girl herself like it’s all fucked and idk what the end would even look like?

So Like a happy ending would be getting revenge on the RAT kyubey… and like idk. I don’t think that’s happening. Like if you want a happy ending for these girls I believe it falls within our little anomaly timeline. Which I like to believe the magia record game timeline is held within a phone. (Cause get it, it’s like a gacha game we play on our phones lol.) and when Madoka touched the anomaly timeline at the end of arc 1? Now the record phone screen is cracked 🫨🫨

I don’t think we’ll get a horrific or completely tragic ending but it will probably be bittersweet or mixed emotions. (Would LOVE TO BE WRONG, GIMMIE HAPPY) But also we won’t see the end end to this franchise for a hot minute lol. Like I’m pretty sure this is technically be advertised as the 4th movie. Though more like the second movie but I guess the movie versions of the anime do count I guess. Idk. The first two movies are fine, best part is just some updated animation and new yuki Kajiura tracks… but yeah i don’t think it’s the final movie.

Now what like actually happens? Fuck if I know. I’m still half expecting mayabu to find infinite iroha and make her pop in to save everyone cause idk. Is homura realllllly gonna let Madoka go. Ya know? Like she’ll probably try to control Walpy or fight her for a hot minute before even considering of letting Madoka go again.

And ALSO.

Okay I feel like I covered all my brain theories about the movie... for now… Idk if I explored or finished every thought. I know I be yapping. And I have adhd so And I can YAP about Madoka and then immediately forget where exactly I was at in my Madoka thoughts.

Imagine how more I could yap if I read the wraith arc. (It’s truly laughable how I’ve read all of arc 1 and the other story with it, most of arc 2 (I skimmed early bits so I could catch up faster, then end of arc 2 was happening and I wanted to be a cool kid and read it asap) quite a few events, and the early chapters of scene 0 (now behind lol) BUT NOT the wraith arc. And I know I could pull it up so easily lol. Hell I read the event where ui went back in time to see fart but not the wraith arc I- I read Christmas strings but i wont take my lazy butt to read manga of my fave series within like kind of main timeline. Like i know i dont need to read but I need to read it. cause having a better understanding of Ultimate Madoka's universe and how wraiths work would be cool. and maybe one of these days ill read another story but idk... Think id rather read tart or Oriko first lol

but yeah i've got to stop myself of this post will never end. I'll prpbably re-read it tomorrow and add edits lol

ALSO one last thought this is a theory I could be Super fucking wrong about everything. Like maybe sayaka looking like that cause of her secretary powers and not homura's universe rewriting at play? like there's so much i don't know haha

and again my theory could fall apart with like new info i didn't know about. there's a lot of content madoka content out there ya know

#puella magi madoka magica rebellion #madoka rebellion #walpurgisnacht rising #madoka theory #homura akemi #spoilers #?#i guess #idk #text #Also I proofread this a few times and read it out loud but its 1 am and ive been writing this for two hours after i got killed by some BS #in zero builds #Was so focused I almost forgot to work out too lmaoooo #Had to stop to do chest day but in between sets i was proofreading sooooo I could have still missed a lot #i typically have a few still #But I needed to share these thoughts cause before I know the movies gonna be out and if im right and i told NO ONE? Im gonna be so mad #So now i got a little post stating my theories incase im right lol #mxsquibby text #text post #hmm #gonna tag #magia record #I know mainly main timeline stuff but idk #If he reallllllly wanted he could just say fuck it... infinity iroha I CHOOSE YOU to save my lesbians.

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moonspirit · 4 months

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Hi my dear Moon!

Hope you're doing well.

So, for the writer's ask🖤

1, 2, 8, 9, 10, 12, 14, 15, 16

(sorry, it's a lot, but you know, I'm always glad to see you speaking about your writing and amazing talent)

Hello Anna T^T Thank you for the ask!

1. What are you most proud of in your writing right now?

Well, let's see. I've never been particularly proud or confident in my writing, ever, I think, but recently I've been rather happy with structuring and scene progression. It feels nice to have events and things take place somewhat evenly and as planned :3

2. Is there something you're specifically working on to improve your writing?

Vocabulary. Vocabulary will kill me T_T I hate english sometimes T^T

8. What piece of advice did you hear/read recently that's been helping you to improve your writing?

Not particularly recently, but also recently (iykyk), but: to take things one at a time. I tend to freak out if I haven't had the next 5 (minimum) chapters fully planned out and drafted, and this has been a rather new anxiety haha xD Until around Chapter 13 of VBEOW, I wasn't stressing myself with meticulously outlining future chapters all that far ahead; it was at most the immediate next chapter and then the next one too, with everything else having a general idea, but not too detailed. But since ch.13 when the plot started to get a little more complicated and dense, I realized I had to have the next 5-10 chapters fully outlined and structured or I would mess things up. This has had its pros, but also its cons where now I'm scared to death if I'm a little late with planning that structuring. I need to remind myself that it's okay, to breathe, and to take one step at a time >_<

9. What do you feel that you are naturally talented with in terms of creative writing?

Uhhhhh XD I have no clue, to be very honest, but maybe I'm quite decent with blending non-canon-imagined-flashbacks and canon-events?

10. Do you have any personal pet peeves about your writing that you're working to change?

I get too hung up on how best to describe movements, especially during smut. It's a nightmare T^T

12. Who/what is your greatest inspiration for your current story?

Life in general. There was a time when I couldn't really see much beauty in it (even now there are days when I don't) but learning to see the little magic in mundane moments and experiences is really uplifting. There's something very special in just breathing fresh, pristine air, or having the wind tickle your hair. There's something miraculous in kicking your feet in a stream of ice cold water and listening to the richness of a loved one laughing loud. It's these things, coupled with all the things I don't have and have never experienced, and hope to one day. I can't go without saying, that it was Clouds' writing too that gave me that kick to get out of a slump and pick up writing again.

14. Is there something you wish readers would pick up on more in your stories?

Ah well, no, not really. I'm pretty happy and satisfied with what they are picking up atm, and they usually don't miss! I'm very grateful for that.

15. Talk to me about how you go about word choice. Do you have an example of your writing that you're particularly proud of clever word choice?

HAHAHAHAHA I literally JUST complained about vocabulary!! But well. I usually don't give it much thought, I just write. There are times when I really don't like how a passage reads, but then I remind myself to just get on with it; I can always edit it later, when I'll likely have more braincells than I have at that moment. I have noticed though that many times, the sentences I phrase, rhyme xD At certain instances, this is planned, but other times, I have no idea it's happening and only notice it when I proofread.

As for an example about a passage I'm proud of... There are a few but here's one. It's nothing exemplary and doesn't really have any special wording choices, but I like the simplicity of it. And I'm very attached to it xD From Ch.16 of VBEOW - Sparks:

He stood there, feeling the tides wash over his ankles, and the salty sea breeze kiss his skin. He saw the sea with a handful of seawater cascading through his fingers, mesmerised by the way it stretched into the horizon. He watched the sea rise and fall and move, and noticed the way it was so, so blue. Mikasa told him it was the colour of his eyes.

He longed for Annie so much that day.

"Hey Annie," He said a week later, looking at her, so peaceful and cold inside her diamond. "I found out why the sea is blue."

He was so glad he was alone that day. "Commander Hange found out the water absorbs red wavelengths of the light, leaving it blue for us to see."

He didn't know what to do with his hands.

"But that's the scientific answer."

A lone tear rolled down his face.

"The sea is blue because the sky falls into it, Annie."

16. Where are you currently at in your writing mindset? Frustrated? Excited? Focused? Other?

Very tired and stressed to the max. Excited for some future events that will happen in VBEOW, but that's not conquering my exhaustion as of late xD

Thank you for asking T_T !!!

#ask #annawayne #ask game #writers ask

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snowdice · 2 years

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Little Kestrel (Part 47) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46

Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things related to increasing Virgil’s literacy.

Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.

Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.

It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed.

Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.

“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.

“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”

“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.

“But why?” Virgil asked.

“I… don’t understand the question.”

“They don’t have the right number of legs.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.

“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”

“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”

“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.

“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.

“No, they’re not.”

His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.

Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”

“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”

He huffed, peering at the book.

“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”

Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”

“Mmm?” Logan asked.

“There’s something I need to teach you.”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

“Survival instincts.”

“What?”

Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”

“Isn’t that poisonous.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem.”

“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”

“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.

“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”

“It’s really not though.”

“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end, and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”

“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”

“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”

“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”

Wait. When had they had that conversation?

“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”

“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.

Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”

“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”

“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”

“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.

“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”

“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”

“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”

“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”

“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”

Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.

“Prove it,” Virgil said.

“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”

Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.

Want to read more? Click below!

Birds of Different Feathers Master Post

My Masterpost

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

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primofate · 3 years

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Breaking up Part 2 Albedo x gn!reader

Sorry it took so long! Haha. Yeah tumblr effed over for me. But here it is! :D

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst? NOT PROOFREAD

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 1) (Part 3 - Final)

“Sucrose... Do you know where Y/N went?”

5 days 3 hours and 12 minutes. He’d been counting. He’d been counting since you left. It was only today that he had the courage to ask Sucrose about it.

Sucrose jumps at the sudden call of her name.

Albedo had not been the same. The frequent mistakes in the lab proved it. The constant slips of the hand and test tubes shattering on the floor told Sucrose that perhaps that was how his heart looked like too.

“...No, I don’t,” Sucrose simply says, then lets the silence of the lab fill the air. Only the bubbles from their experiments hanging. It was still for a moment, Sucrose going back to her calculations and research. Albedo sat in front of his alchemy set, blankly staring at it.

He doesn’t even understand what being “tired” feels like anymore. He hasn’t had a decent sleep. Every small movement in the house, every whisper of the wind he would bolt up in bed, thinking it was you coming in from the front door. Sometimes he would hear someone shuffling, he would stop and listen for you, but then realizes that the sound was the sound of his legs under the covers, trying to keep warm without you around.

Sucrose glances up at her mentor. He’s buried his face in his hands, his hair in slight disarray. She knew what was going to happen next. He was going to stand up and just walk away from the lab, and Sucrose was not going to see him until tomorrow again.

Tomorrow, the cycle would repeat.

Albedo couldn’t function. It was pathetic. He really thought that he must be such a sight right now, eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair down and clothes a little unruly. He ran away from the lab again. He abandoned his “important” experiment and went back home, retreating in his room, falling on his knees and slumping on the bed in front of him.

He buried his face into his arms and tried to piece his heart back together.

“Albedo, will you ever get tired of me?”

There was a soft hint of a frown on your face. Silly you, Albedo thought. Always worried about being apart from him. He only smiles and cups your chin in his hand, leans in close to press his forehead against yours to whisper, “Never,”

His fists clutch at the bedsheets, the fabric scrunching up under his hands. Every.damn.time. he tried to take a break, he would be reminded of you. Every thing reminded him of you. Breathing reminded him of you. It was as if you were right beside him and yet you weren’t.

It was him. He was supposed to be the one asking “Y/N, will you ever get tired of me?” He was supposed to be the one worried. But he hadn’t been because he had taken you for granted. He thought that you’d always just be there, waiting for him patiently as you always had but now that he was alone, he realized just how lonely this silence could be.

“You must have been lonely...waiting here for me in this silence...”

His voice was muffled by the sheets, and he didn’t know who he was talking to. He did that a lot these days. Saying things that he wished you could still hear.

The next day, just as Sucrose predicted. It was the same. Halfway through his experiment Albedo stopped, and stared at nothing in particular. She wondered if, whenever he did that, he remembered the things he said to you that day.

But, just as Sucrose thinks today would end up the same...

it didn’t.

“Big brother Albedo!” Klee stormed into the lab, the door slamming open really loud. “Oh...I’m sorry, I didn’t check the sign... I...” Klee stepped out to look at the door sign and found “KEEP OUT” still there. “Oh no...! I did a mistake! Sorry big brother,” the little girl fumbled with her fingers and swung from side to side to show her apology.

A hint of a smile appears on Albedo’s face and Sucrose was thunderstruck. There had been no expression on the Kreideprinz’s face for the longest time that the smile had felt so foreign. “It’s alright, Klee. Do you need help with something?” and his voice wasn’t hoarse. If there was anything that could cheer him up, it would be Klee.

He was done prioritizing his research over the people that really mattered.

“Look what I got! I’ve never seen such a pretty flower in Mondstadt before,” Klee showed off the blue flower to Albedo, eyes shining and wide. Albedo touched the petals as Klee held it up for him. “Ah, yes, Glaze Lilies. You can only find them in Liyue, Klee,” Albedo explains. Klee bounces excitedly.

“Ohhhh! That’s amazing! Y/N must have travelled there recently!”

The silence in the lab was deafening. Albedo’s hand drops from the flower as he looks at Klee, confused. Sucrose had stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed, staring at the young bomber. “...What do you mean, Klee?” Albedo whispered out.

Hearing your name said by someone else made it all the more real that you weren’t here with him anymore.

“Oh! See, Klee was in Windrise and... I was looking at the fishes...” Klee gasped a little, “Please don’t tell Master Jean!” she whispered pointedly but continued. “I saw Y/N there, and Y/N gave me a really big hug and gave me this Guh lays Lily,” the young girl got the name wrong, but Albedo hadn’t been listening anymore. He stood up and crouched down to eye level with Klee, hands on her shoulders. “W-When, Klee?” he clears his throat and tries again, “When did this happen?” Sucrose had also been listening and watching in bated breath. Klee gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles, not knowing how crucial this information had been to Albedo. “Just now! I just came back from Windrise!”

Albedo didn’t feel the slightest sorry that he bolted out of the lab without explaining to Klee. She would understand and Surcrose was there. He sprinted towards the gates of Mondstadt like his life depended on it. In some senses, it really did.

I can make it.

He was panting hard. His footsteps thundering in his ears. His breath coming in quick ins and outs. His heart is about to fly off its cage.

I can make it. It’s just outside of Mondstadt.

Wind rushes past him, the pigeons on the bridge outside of Mondstadt, disturbed, flying away in a frenzy. Timmie shouting after him.

Please be there. Please.

It takes him longer than he wanted. He wanted to be faster, wanted to be there already but he was still running. Still chasing after that hope. The adrenaline he feels pumps in his veins and yet he is so out of breath that he needs to stop. His hands resting on his knees as he closes his eyes and tries to get his breathing even.

I have to keep going.

His legs were killing him. They were strained by the sudden rush of exercise and yet he still drags both towards Windrise. He could see the large tree at the horizon, but he was too far away to see if you were there. He continues to pant, steadying his breath, preparing for another burst of energy to run towards where he so desperately hoped you were. What if you weren’t there anymore?

What if he was too late?

What if he never saw you again?

“What if it doesn’t work...?” Albedo asks, pondering over the research and discussing it with you over dinner. He loved to talk about his experiments with you because you gave valuable insights on it, and really listened to him. You smile and give him the confidence that he needs, “Then you can try again, Bedo. You always find a way!”

He’s still panting by the time he reaches the steps leading up to the large tree. His eyes dart around. He circles around in place, wondering if you were around the area. He continues forward, stepping up to the big roots and yet again looked around, trying to spot your familiar tuft of hair/colour.

At the corner of his eye he spots something, behind the big tree. A Crystalfly. It was flying away and his eyes automatically follow it. There was a hand trying to reach out for it, but it barely grazed the Crystalfly’s wings. You stepped out from behind the tree, a little annoyed that you couldn’t catch the Crystalfly.

Albedo feels like he’s frozen in time. He stands there and watches the wind caress your hair. Watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear. Watches as you turn around and start walking away. He snaps back to reality and moves forward, roots and sticks cracking under his feet as he struggles through the root laden path just to get near you.

You, hearing the disturbance from behind, turn around and was met face to face with the lover you left a few days ago. Something shatters inside you. You weren’t ready for this. You were far from ready to see him again. Why was he out here in the middle of the day? You stood still just as he did in front of you.

You notice how his hair is sticking to his face with sweat. The fast rise and fall of his chest. The pained look in his eyes. The closed up fists on his side. “Y/N--” his voice cracks and tears start to pool in your eyes.

You aren’t strong enough for this and you start to turn away.

Albedo rushes forward to trap you in a hug. His arms so desperately wrapped around you as his head rests on your shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t go. Come back with me, please,” there’s a different type of hopelessness in his voice. A moment later tears are streaming down your face.

“I-I can’t Albedo. I--” can’t put myself through that again. I can’t and don’t want to be alone at home all the time.

His body shakes and you realize it’s a sob that wracks his body. Your shoulder is slightly wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please.” You’ve never seen him cry. Not like this. Not as he clings to you and admits defeat. “I...I couldn’t take care of you--It’s my fault. I know, but--”

“I like Windrise. It’s very relaxing.” You say as the two of you walk around the tree, collecting materials. “Is it?” Albedo responds, stopping momentarily to look up at the tree. “You don’t think so?” you curiously ask your lover. He ponders for a moment before smiling, “I think coming home to you is a lot more relaxing,” at the early stages of your relationship hearing something like that from him would cause you to blush.

You pry his arms away and look up at him. His head is dipped low and you can’t see his face clearly, concealed by his hair. You brush his hair away and lift his head up, and you see how streaks of tears run down his cheeks. You see the sleepless nights in his eyes. The hurt that creases on his forehead. You see what your absence has done to him, and all in one moment, you think that perhaps you were too harsh on him. That you should’ve talked it out instead of leaving so abruptly but you-- “I was hurt...” your lips tremble as you try to explain.

“I try, really hard, to make things easier for you. To care about you. I have never asked for anything grand.” You’re surprised at how level your voice is, despite feeling like you might break down just as he does.

“I’m aware,” Albedo wipes at his face, frustrated at himself. His tears have stopped. You were talking. That must be a good sign. “I don’t--Don’t deserve you,” but he steels himself and places his hands on your cheeks. God how long had it been since he touched you like this? and wipes away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. “But I’ll take care of you. I’ll prove your worth. I... won’t make the same mistake again,”

And when Albedo said or promised something he was one of the few people that you believed in the most. He was trustworthy all the way, and was true to most of what he said. “You have my word... and if I do make the same error again then... Then you can leave. But right now I--” he moves to rest his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth and love that he had missed. “I’m asking for another chance,” he gulps. “Please,”

You stay quiet for a moment. Assessing the situation. But your eyes close at the closeness the two of you are in right now. There was no doubt that you still loved him. A few days would not change anything. A few days would not ruin the years that you spent together. But you were scared and guarded. You weren’t sure what would happen and if it was worth it. You were scared of being with him and being lonely. “...We... should talk and think a little bit more about this...” you conclude and give your answer, stepping away from him.

Albedo’s face grimaces in distraught, but turns into confusion when you take his hand and tugs on it slightly. “...At home, we can talk about this at home...Is that okay? Let’s go back first,” you would figure it out with him from there.

His head drops and he tries hard not to let tears escape again. He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve this kindness but he sure as hell would take it. He would take it and make it right again. He picks his head up and squeezes your hand, voice slightly soft and trembling, and smiles.

“Thank you. That’s perfect,”

and with his hand tight on yours, because he wasn’t letting you go again, the two of you make your way back.

Should I make a part 3 with fluff and write about the aftermath and how Albedo made it up to you? Let me know :D Message me :D Love me <3

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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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super-secret-sick-fics · 3 years

Note

hii i requested the last fic and i loved it very much! excited for pt 2 :D

OH and it wasn’t even out of character it felt like exactly how they would react! you write suna especially well aquarius twins

Thank you!! I’m so glad you liked it :) Here’s part 2!! I didn’t proofread this at all, so I apologize for any mistakes.

I tried to make it so that they could each be read independently. Also I am bad at endings sorry lmao.

Sick & Delirious: A SunaOsa fic (part 2 of Sick at School)

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,028

Warnings: Vomit, panic attack, swearing & fluff

Part 1 Here

___________________________

“Rintaro, you poor, poor baby!” Osamu’s mother cried as soon as she showed up to the front office of the school.

Shortly after the nurse agreed to let Osamu go home too, Suna and Osamu were escorted (slowly and with a small bin in hand) to the front to await Miya-san. They sat down and Suna almost immediately curled into Osamu’s warmth. If he wasn’t so sick, he’d be utterly embarrassed at how clingy he was being. Their hands had been joined since they left the classroom and Suna squeezed Osamu’s every time a cramp rolled through his body.

Now Miya-san was there, her hands immediately cupping Suna’s face and brushing back his hair.

“Geez, Ma. Give him some space. Bet ya won’t be that nice to me and I know you’re not being that nice to Tsumu,” Osamu scoffed.

“Well of course not,” she deadpanned, “yer both idiots. Rintaro is much nicer to your poor mother than her ungrateful children.” Osamu scoffed again.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you, Miya-san,” Suna interjected, undeterred by the Miya’s usual show. She looked over at him again and smiled gently.

“Of course. I’ve spoken with yer ma and she’ll bring over some clothes for ya when she’s off work. Now let’s go boys.”

***

“Shit, Rin,” Osamu woke up from his nap when Suna started heaving beside him. He sat up and rubbed Suna’s back as he leaned over the bed and threw up in the bin beside it. The crinkling plastic and splattering sounds reverberated painfully in Suna’s ears.

“S-sorry,” he spluttered.

“Don’t be,” Osamu whispered.

This was the third time in the last two hours that Suna and Osamu were awoken by Suna’s stomach. When they got back to the Miya’s house, Suna was directed to the guest room. Osamu leant him some clothes so he could change out of his uniform and brought him some water, crackers, and a bin. When he was getting ready to leave, Suna grabbed his wrist and asked him to stay. He wasn’t good at being sick and felt much better knowing Osamu was around to help.

When the fit let up, he rolled back into bed and wrapped his arms around Osamu’s stomach. He was shaking again, but this time it wasn’t because of the fever.

Honestly, he wanted to cry. He was so exhausted and his stomach ached so badly. His migraine was relentless. His body didn’t know whether it was cold or hot and all he wanted was to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time.

It didn’t help that Atsumu had set up camp for himself in the bathroom that was shared between the twins’ room and the guest room. He said that he didn’t mind the sleeping on the floor as long as it meant he could flush the vomit away immediately, instead of having it sit mocking him in the bin beside his bed.

The two of them seemed to be on opposite cycles. Every time Suna thought he could get some sleep, he could hear Atsumu start puking in the bathroom. Then every time Atsumu had quieted down for a bit, Suna’s stomach attacked him. He felt bad, knowing that Atsumu felt just as bad as he did and had to deal with the same things. Never in his life did he think that he would ever feel bad for stupid Atsumu. His fever must be pretty high.

“Rin,” Osamu sighed. Whenever they were both awake, Osamu’s hands were on Suna’s body somewhere, comforting him with little touches and gentle pats. Suna’s favorite thing was when one of his hands was in his hair, the other moving, ghosting his fingers up and down his back. Right now, one of his hands propped him up in the bed and the other was lying dormant on Suna’s head.

“Rin, are ya crying?”

Suna nodded. Osamu sighed again.

Slowly and carefully, as to not jostle Suna’s stomach he was sure, Osamu wiggled himself into lying down and repositioned Suna so he was laying on Osamu’s chest. Then he started ghosting his fingers up and down Suna’s back and caressing the back of his head. Suna wondered if Osamu knew that was his favorite.

“I’m sorry, Rin. I wish I could help ya,” he soothed and something inside Suna squeezed. He whimpered pathetically and curled further into Osamu’s chest.

With that, the dam broke loose. Hot tears started soaking Osamu’s shirt as Suna sobbed quietly.

“I-I don’t f-feel good,” he cried. His throat hurt, from the bile or being ill in general he wasn’t sure.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” Osamu comforted. If Suna were more cognizant, he probably would’ve blushed at the pet name.

He was sure that he liked Osamu and that Osamu liked him back, but they had never addressed it. They were both content to let things happened naturally, not minding the little more-than-friend’s touches here and there or the less-than-platonic-flirting they did at practice and in class. Being in this situation though and having Osamu being the one to take care of him really solidified how Suna felt.

Osamu let him cry for a while before Suna started hiccuping dangerously again.

“Rintaro, yer gonna make yer self sick again,” he exhaled. As if on cue, Suna gagged.

“N-no,” he moaned. Osamu sat up, taking Suna with him and reached down to pick up the bin beside the bed.

“Ya gotta let it happen, babe.” He put the bin on Suna’s lap. Suna glared at it half-heartedly before he felt his chest tighten uncomfortably and a gag forced its way out.

“How is there even anything left?” Osamu lamented. Suna answered with a painful heave. He also wondered the same thing.

Suna’s stomach felt hollow and yet nausea continued to plague him. The room spun as he heaved. His throat was scraped raw. At this point, he was barely aware of Osamu’s presence behind him. Through the fog, he knew he was there though, and that was reassuring enough.

A gurgle came from his stomach and he moaned. Within a few seconds, a wet, crackling, burp brought up the blue sports drink Osamu gave him to try and keep him hydrated. A few more painful heaves brought up more blue tinted vomit before his stomach seemed to allow him a break.

He collapsed into Osamu’s side, panting.

“My poor Rin,” Osamu cooed, but it was muffled, like he was talking to Suna through a pillow. He pulled Suna into his side and kissed the top of his head. The movements were happening in slow motion though, and Suna was, for the second time that day, thoroughly confused.

“‘Samu?” He tried, but his tongue was heavy in his mouth and he wasn’t sure that he made any sound.

“Yeah?” Osamu asked, rubbing up and down Suna’s arm. And wow….no. He didn’t like that. It set all of his nerves on edge. He tried to squirm away from the unwanted touch.

“Rin?”

Suddenly, everything was Too Much. He pushed on whatever was wrapped around him. The soft fabric beneath his hand itched painfully.

“Rin? What’s wrong?” A loud voice boomed in his ears and he flinched away.

“Le’ go...” he gasped, his chest felt like it was on fire. He weakly pushed again. Whatever was encasing him did not budge. His eyes burned and his surroundings swirled alarmingly.

“N-no,” he choked on something hot and sticky.

Then he was released from the bindings holding him and he felt the world tilt forward for just a second. His chest landed on something and it stopped. He was forced upright, and his field of vision changed. A blurry figure appeared in front of him. Maybe a person?

Something captured his face on either side and his eyes blew wide. Cold. No. Scratchy? No.

“Rinta...he...loo..me...whas…ong?” The voice exploded through his brain again and he whimpered. What was happening? Why was he so hot. It was so hot.

“Ho-t…”

Why was he alone? Wasn’t someone helping him before? Where did that person go? He needed help.

“Shit,” a voice cut through his haze. Osamu?

“It’s….I’ve go….”

Too quickly, he was moving. Whatever caged him before was back around him and he tried in vain to break free.

“‘Samu?” A new voice. He whined.

“Move,” too loud too loud too loud. He was released from the bindings again for just a second before being captured again. This time they were hot. And wet. And they torched his skin. He wriggled in yet another futile attempt to get free. What was that roaring sound?

“Whas...on?” The new voice again. Closer. It hurt his head.

“Hi….feve...high…”

Suna was in a new space. Things were different around him now and the sudden change made him dizzy. He coughed and then his mouth was full. He dropped his jaw heavily and his mouth was empty again.

“Fuck!” A screech and he moaned in response.

He was moving again and then his entire body was being pricked with icicles. It put his surroundings a little more in focus.

“Cold!” He shrieked. He tried to get away from the ice, but was held down.

“Tsumu….sorr...ease..” Another force held him down. It wasn’t as strong, but Suna couldn’t get away from it.

“No no no no…” he repeated, his entire face felt heavy. Was that possible? He writhed in pain. It hurt it hurt he wanted out.

“I’m sorry, Rintaro, I’m sorry,” the first voice shook. It was clearer now. It still pounded in his skull.

“Please please please please,” he said and it hurt his throat.

“Rin, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It was Osamu. He thrashed harder.

“I’m sorry, Samu, I can’t—“ oh that was Atsumu. One of the heavy things holding him down was gone. He fought against the last one. He almost won. It was gone for a second before there was a splash and something behind him grabbed him around his waist and held him down.

“No please it hurts please.” He begged. Someone was crying.

“Rin, it’s okay. Please calm down.” Osamu was behind him now. Behind him. Oh he must be what’s holding him down. Okay okay. That was fine. But why was he torturing him like this?

“Samu no…” he tried to push away. He was really really tired though.

“Yeah, Rin it’s me. I’m trying to help. Please let me,” Osamu said. But his voice was wrong. It was shaking and tight. Was he upset? He was trying to help? Okay okay. He trusted Osamu. He relaxed into Osamu’s hold. It got tighter.

Suna wasn’t sure how much time went by. He tried really hard to trust Osamu, even though the ice prickled and burned at his skin. Eventually, the pain lessened.

There was a soft whimpering sound and he couldn’t figure out who it was for a while. Then he realized it was him. Next, he felt the tears on his face and his entire body shivering.

Slowly, his environment came into focus. He was in the bathroom, more specifically a bathtub.

Finally, the fog in his brain cleared and he put two and two together. Osamu put him in a cold bath to bring his fever down.

“Osamu,” he said through chattering teeth.

“I’m sorry, Rin, I’m sorry,” Osamu said. His face was buried in Suna’s shoulder, but even still, he could tell hear his voice shaking from the cold. More than that, he sounded desperate. Almost defeated.

Suna hated it. He brought a hand up behind him and placed it on Osamu’s head, letting his own collapse back onto his friend’s shoulder. Osamu stiffened before whipping his head up.

“Rin?” He choked and Suna nodded lethargically.

“Can we please get out?” he whispered. Osamu nodded quickly. He got out and wrapped himself in a towel before helping Suna up. It was then that he realized he was still wearing his clothes. They clung to him and he grimaced at the feel. Osamu enveloped Suna in a fluffy towel and hugged him tightly.

Suna relished in the warmth for a second.

“C’mon, let’s getcha outta these wet clothes,” Osamu murmured and let Suna go. He lead him back to the guest room and sat him down in the desk chair. Suna’s teeth chattered noisily.

Osamu left, only to return a minute later with new clothes.

“Do ya need help?” he asked. Still unnaturally soft. It was starting to unnerve Suna. He nodded in response.

A little while later, Suna and Osamu were both sitting on the bed, dressed in dry clothes. Osamu sat in front of him, rubbing a towel over his hair, trying to get as much of it dry as he could. He was quiet. Suna was content to let things settle before he asked what was wrong. He knew Osamu would either talk to him when he was ready or if Suna pried a little.

His hands stopped moving and Suna was about to ask if he could lay down when Osamu bent forward and buried his face in Suna’s neck again.

Suna was a little lost, but put a hand on Osamu’s still damp hair anyway.

“Still too warm,” Osamu mumbled. He nuzzled his face into Suna’s shoulder. He was starting to get really worried and really agitated at Osamu’s weird behavior.

“Samu,” he demanded softly, “what’s the deal?” Osamu tensed in his hold then he sat up so abruptly it made Suna a little woozy. When the vertigo passed, he was face to face with a furious Osamu.

“What’s the deal?” Osamu seethed. Suna looked at him with wide eyes.

“Rin, you were gone!” Osamu shouted, making Suna’s head pound. Osamu stood up ferociously and started pacing the room. Suna wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

“Osamu, please I don’t feel good. Can you just be straight with me?” Suna complained. Osamu turned on him. His face was contorted and Suna was taken aback when he saw tears rolling down flushed cheeks.

“Osamu, what—“

“Rin, ya were gone. Ya were here but ya just weren’t. Ya didn’t know who I was or who Tsumu was and ya didn’t know where you were and fuck. It was terrifyin’. Ya screamed when I put ya in the tub. Saying that I was torturing ya and that ya were caged and shit,” Osamu sobbed. Suna’s chest twinged.

This was not his Osamu. He brought this man to this state?

“I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do. Ya kept throwin’ up but it didn’t seem like ya even knew it was happenin’,” Osamu continued. He fell to his knees.

“Yer fever was so high and it happened so quickly. Tsumu tried to help, but he’s still sick. My mom left to go get more medicine and I felt so helpless,” he whimpered before devolving into a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

Suna stared at the boy before him, shell-shocked. He eased himself onto the ground and crawled over to Osamu and hugged him. It wasn’t long before Osamu’s arms were wrapped around his middle and he started crying into Suna’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he soothed, “I don’t remember a lot of that. I remember being confused and cold and feeling like I was being held down, but I don’t remember anything else. I’m sorry, Osamu. I’m so sorry.” Osamu nodded, but kept crying and that was okay.

They stayed like that a little while longer, Suna shushing Osamu gently. Eventually, Osamu pulled back and wiped his face. Suna smiled softly at him and he chuckled sadly.

“Sorry,” he sniffled. Suna shook his head.

“I really need to lie down,” he said. He was starting to feel really heavy and nauseas again and it was getting difficult to keep his eyes open.

Osamu nodded and helped him back to the bed. He lay down and Osamu quickly followed, enveloping Suna into his chest. Suna nuzzled his face into the soft fabric of Osamu’s shirt. He felt Osamu place a kiss into the top of his head and give him a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry again,” he mumbled, half asleep already.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad yer alright. I’m sorry I freaked out on ya.” He stroked his hand up and down Suna’s back.

“‘S’okay. I’m just that important,” Suna yawned. Osamu chuckled and it warmed Suna’s heart and calmed his mind.

“Ya sure are. Go to sleep. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Osamu said. With his blessing, Suna fell asleep.

***

Later that night, Atsumu would show them a picture of the two of them cuddled up and drooling on each other that he took when he mustered up the strength to come check on things. Osamu yelled at him but Suna asked him to send it to him. He may have set it as his phone’s home screen.

By the next morning, Suna woke up to the sound of Osamu heaving beside him. It was unpleasant and made his stomach turn. Before he realized what was happening, he was sprinting to the bathroom and pushing Atsumu out of the way and emptying his stomach into the toilet.

“Sunarin, please,” Atsumu choked before turning to the bath tub.

Miya-san ran into the room and surveyed the situation.

“My poor boys,” she sighed, “I’m gonna go set up the livin’ room so I can watch all three of ya.”

And so Suna spent the next few days camped out in the Miya’s living room. Soon enough, Atsumu was well enough to help out his mom here and there. And when Suna was feeling up to it, he returned the favor and rubbed Osamu’s back as he puked disgustingly.

“Ya can go home if ya want,” Osamu panted between rounds. Suna shook his head.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you, stupid.”

Osamu smiled gratefully before his cheeks puffed out and he turned back to the bin. Suna laughed and kissed the back of his sweaty neck.

Maybe they didn’t define their relationship with labels, but Suna was pretty positive that he wanted to stick with Osamu for the rest of his life.

#I wish this ending was better #oh well #My fic #haikyuu sickfic #sick suna #caretaker Osamu #sunaosa #tw vomit #tw panic attack

43 notes · View notes

voidcat · 4 years

Text

– Stardust

Characters: Oikawa Tooru/You

Genre: fluff/comfort, heart to heart on reader’s part (questioning your place in the universe and all)

Summary: Sleep does not come some nights when it gets loud inside your head. Pebbles thrown at your window feels something out of movies. Oikawa Tooru being the one to do feels unreal. So you do what everyone does in dreams, is this a dream?, and follow his lead.

Word Count: 4.3k (i poured my heart out pls respond)

A/N: I didn’t write it with a song in mind but Kimochi Warui (When? When? When? When? When? When? When?) sounded fitting while proofreading. Take it as a suggestion if you want. – ao3 - PART 2

It’s late.

Too late to still be up. Too late to be thinking like this.

Too late to be up, awake, vibrating with all these overwhelming thoughts filling your head, wanting to break free, scratching the inside of your skull like feral animals, dying to get out.

It’s late and you keep lying down just like that. Hands clasped over your stomach, eyes locked onto the ceiling, trying not to think, keeping your mind blank like a newly bought sketchbook.

You lie like that for seconds feeling like hours and hours feeling like seconds.

You lie awake, the dim moon light entering your room lazily. All too familiar thoughts plaguing your mind, telling things you’ve known since childhood over and over and over until you grow numb to the noise.

Tck.

You consider checking the time but you’re afraid it’ll still be too early for the new day to start.

Tck.

Was that an actual sound or the newest trick of your mind?

Tck.

They say third time is the charm. Third time also means it’s too much of a specific occurrence to be a coincidence. The noise seems to be coming from outside, something small hitting your window.

Irritation and curiosity taking over you at last, not to mention boredom, you make way to the window and open it.

You see Oikawa Tooru of all people waving with his phone at you, a little aggressively.

Walking back to your nightstand and picking up your phone, you receive a message.

>[Does your folks wake up early?]

>[Or check up on you first thing in the morning?]

[No. why?] Hitting the send button you wait, walking back there and looking at him again. Face lightened by the glow of his phone, you can make up his eyes and nose.

>[Wear something warm.]

>[And make that spicy tea thingy you like so much if you want.]

>[I’m waiting by the door.]

Weird is seeing Oikawa Tooru under your window at an hour no one else is awake. Him telling you to get dressed and come outside? That’s creepy and worrying.

[Why]

>[I’m doing you a favor out of the goodness of my heart for once.] You want to roll your eyes at that. Since when does he know what being good means? Towards you especially.

>[No shady business, I promise.]

>[Trust me.]

As if knowing what went in your mind, these texts show up on your screen. You come to a halt.

Your relationship with Oikawa was never good. You would ignore one another on the good days and be utterly destructive and spiteful on the bad days. He never gave you a reason or made a gesture to earn your trust, you don’t even recall hearing those words from him much. They are reserved for Iwaizumi and the team only.

So why do you find yourself in a dilemma, as if there’s something to choose, a decision to make? Because the logical thing for you to do, the in-character thing for you to do, is to say no, go back to bed and hope to fall asleep at some point. The usual set of action for you is to refuse whatever he has to offer and go back to your own thing.

But you’re done with the logical and the in-character. So you send a quick [I’ll be down in 5.], make way to prepare something warm first and change your clothes as you wait for it to heat up. A sweatshirt should be enough.

Being too lazy and out-of-it to function once in a while pays, because instead of having to brew the tea and wait for a long while, you just heat up the already brewed and stashed one and pour it to your thermos.

Silently opening the door and getting out, you see Oikawa leaning against the wall.

He walks away when he sees you, you follow without a word. Soon enough you’re met with a car. Since when he has a car?

Wait, no. Don’t ask, don’t wait for an answer. Don’t look at the stupid car, don’t examine it. It is a dream after all, right? What’s the point in observing things when you’ll forget about them first thing in the morning?

Following his lead, you get inside the passenger seat, hear him start the engine, watch his hand reach for the stereo. A low hum arise.

It sounds like he picked a channel on random, the music isn’t bad per se, the volume is down. So it doesn’t exactly bother you either. Getting comfortable in your seat and resting your head against the window, you watch the blur of images go by.

There is no moon tonight, the only source of light is the street lamps coming into view and leaving as fast. Houses, buildings, trees, everything belonging to the day pass by in a fog and smear of colors. Almost like a quick brush of oil paint. It’s calming in a quiet before the thunderstorm kind of way.

As the road goes under the wheels, less and less houses come in to your view.

“Where to?”

Oikawa gives you a quick glance. He almost looks surprised to see you speak. Did he just assume you’d stay quiet all night?

“You’ll see.” His tone doesn’t match his face.

“What’s the meaning of it?”

“Consider it a favor.” This marks the end of your short lived conversation.

You don’t need to recognize the road he takes to understand he’s driving out of town, out of Miyagi. The why of it keeps floating in your head, you can’t apply the ‘it’s a dream’ tactic any more either, you are too awake for that, in both senses.

Turning your attention back on the sidelines, you let your mind wander off to meaningless assumptions.

A light behind the trees, you imagine a lonely night creature, lurking around to find his lost love.

You spot an animal you can’t identify and make up a story about an once-successful maiden, falling fool to a wicked spell.

You look at the trees and imagine nature coming to life in humanoid form, mutating and taking its revenge on human race.

Hearing a ribbit nearby and you recall the time your mother read you the Princess and the Frog years ago.

You turn left to look at Oikawa. Finding your phone inside your pocket and raising it in a show-and-tell manner, you wait for him to take notice and turn off the stereo. You press play.

Satie’s Once Upon A Time In Paris fills the air.

You note the relaxation in his shoulders. You let the melody take over your body as well.

Closing your eyes and holding your hands in the air, you can see the keys in front of you.

Hitting the keys one by one, reaching for the pedal, you can feel it flow through you. Head moving on its own, dancing with the melody, Gymnopedie no.1 as calm and serene as ever. Simple like a short quote on love from a poet.

It ends silently, Gnossienne no.3 enters with much more emotion.

It’s almost comical how many times you’ve played this exact piece but almost never listened to others playing. It sounds like you in some ways, some tints and emphasis different than how you’d play but that’s all you got right now.

You don’t need to break out of the music’s hold or open your eyes to catch Oikawa’s gaze on you once in a while. You went through all this before on so many occasions. Be it on public transportation and a piece you connect with comes on, you can’t stop your fingers from trying to play it on air, making keys out of nitrogen and oxygen in the air. Your body starting to move on its own after a while. Strangers giving you funny looks all the while.

The notes gain meaning and heaviness, hanging in the air and making way for the following ones as fast.

When the B bemols come, you can feel a stinging feeling in your eyes.

Since when does Gnossienne no.3 make you want to cry? Why now of all times?

You don’t care, you don’t want the answers, you don’t want to understand or reach a new level of understanding within yourself. Just shutting yourself out completely and taking in all the music with a deep breathe, you lean back as far as you can into the seat.

Gnossienne no.4 starts and your hands no longer itch to play.

When Oikawa pulls up at last, the music has long ended.

Getting off with your thermos in one hand, you look around.

Not a single building, a sign of life in sight. Where the hell did he bring you?

You can see his figure searching for something in the back seat, some shuffling reaches your ear. You look at the few and far between trees in the distance. It is a dead night. Not even wind, not even some comical tumbleweeds are in sight to add some motion. Time has stopped completely.

You don’t realize Oikawa’s signals for the second time that night, just as you didn’t hear him throwing pebbles at your window.

Noticing the loud thud, as him patting the hood of his car a little too late, only when he starts to get loud, you look back up. He’s sitting there, patting the space next to him, the gesture all too familiar.

Your mind wanders back to the moments you’d do the same, asking your cat to come sit with you, listen to you ramble, maybe purr for you, hear your sobs or meow at your antics. Tilting your hand with her head, bumping your legs with her tail. Those moments painted golden, filtered with a gray film, already gone, leaving nothing but a sharp pain in your chest.

You climb and sit, careful not to have any physical contact with him.

“Why are we here?” you try one last time.

“I didn’t want to be alone.” He says. Nodding your head at that, you’re not exactly surprised. The way he always surrounds himself with people, no matter the proximity and bond he shares with them.

He answered a question, maybe he can answer few more before I drive him to the limit, you think. “Why me?” This nags at your brain more than any other current question you have for him.

“It seemed fitting.”

“Why not Hajime or Makki, or even Mattsun?”

“Iwa-chan has come on little trips such as this with me before. I didn’t want to drag him tonight. Asking anyone else I’m close with didn’t sound like a good idea. And frankly? You seemed like you could use a break like this today.”

Observant prick.

“So, what exactly? We share one cozy moment tonight and return to our daily selves of hating one another in the morning?” His silence is a yes enough. “Sure, sounds good then.”

After the little conversation, you are back examining the surroundings, the comforting stillness in the air, the silence, the emptiness and the blackness of it all.

It gets boring after a while. Not wanting to disturb Oikawa further and at a loss of what else to do in the middle of nowhere, you look up at last.

Oh.

You forget to breathe for a few seconds. And that doesn’t even seem to be a problem in your eyes.

Has he done this before? How long has he been going out at ungodly hours for this?

You knew Oikawa Tooru was obsessed with space and aliens, thanks to Iwaizumi, but you never expected it to be on a more serious, in-depth level. Not like this.

Never like this.

Billions of stars hanging in the night sky, most millions of years old, blinking from a long gone past, probably dead in their current time.

A calm breeze washing over your wholly, reminding you just how small you are, your life is and how it is all okay because in the big picture you’re all nothing but dust. Destined to be forgotten by history in few centuries, if not decades.

Seeing all these stars, colorful lights what you hope are planets, an arm of the Milky Way, flowing like a waterfall and you feel a sense of security you haven’t felt in a while.

There is something comforting about the night sky, the way it can show you your unimportance in the big picture, your place in all this. You feel whole with the universe. You belong.

So you look up, and up and up. Stare at the sky, blink at the stars, smile at the constellations you spot and remember their stories, the gods and the myths, the heroes and the queens…

You look back at Oikawa then. As if remembering only now that he is there by your side.

Facing the sky in a manner just like yours, you can see the stars on his face. Shining on his hair, cheeks and in his eyes. Almost like stardust.

He looks ethereal, unreachable, enchanting. And a little vulnerable. All that tension, layers of masks he puts on each day, all the fake smiles and empty look in his eyes are gone.

Raw and pure.

This is the truest of Oikawa you’ve ever seen.

The admiration can be read from his eyes. His face holding an emotion you’ve seen on him once or twice. Not intense like this, never like this. You’ve seen the same look on him for Iwaizumi but only for a second, when he’s sure no one is watching.

With the same eyes, he watches the starry night sky.

He looks like he belongs up there. Not in a “be an astronaut and go to space” but in a “should be there, amongst the stars, his memory up there, to be remembered by everyone gazing upon the starry night. Like a constellation, become a constellation, a legend and a story, and so much more, just like Orion and Andromeda.”

This is the closest to Oikawa Tooru you’ve ever been. The thought gives you a shiver.

Seeming to notice that, he gives you a puzzled look and raises his right arm. You realize the blanket around his form then. He’s making an offer.

“Don’t worry, three people can fit in easily, it’s wide enough for the both of us.” When his face turned to you, it’s dark, no source of light to reflect on his skin.

You scoot over to him, under the blanket. The two of you refocus back on the scene above you.

Remembering the little mug inside your front pocket, you open the lid of your thermos and start pouring some tea, the steam leaving a little trail behind. You hold out the mug to Oikawa, he just looks at you, the confusion clear on his face.

Why are you offering me the tea you brought for yourself?

What makes you think I’d trust you enough to taste something you made?

“We said tonight was our little secret, right? I can use the cap as a mug, don’t worry.”

Your words and clarification seems to convince him somewhat, holding the mug with both hands, he smells it before taking a sip.

Silence falls over again and it’s much nicer this time.

Not even the coldness can get to you or pull you out of the warm embrace you’re in. The warmth around your shoulders, more provided by the idea of the blanket than the blanket itself. Like a thin veil, separating the real world from your little bubble of escape.

It’s new moon, no reflecting lunar light to block your view of stars. Sitting under the tent of black, blue, white and red; it feels divine. Divine to live in the moment, to truly breathe, to witness something so enthralling and forever.

To stand by yourself, stripped bare of everything; your layers, titles, names and ticks, clothes and paints, to be a newborn again, to reborn again, all alone, in an endless room, empty and cold, filled with stars and gods, stories to tell and dreams to see.

To feel whole again, alone again, hopeless again but reach a self-realization again, to taste nectar and discover the secrets of the universe, converse with the long gone philosophers and waltz with supernovas.

You’re not alone. Not completely.

Maybe left alone with your thoughts in this dead land and you know how one can never have company in their own mind, forever trapped alone. Yet in that moment, you’re not alone. Moving your head to steal a glance at the boy next to you again, you understand it well. It all happens so fast.

“Isn’t it ironic? How as humans we use a word like ‘star’ for untouchable celebrities, important people and such while in reality stars are nothing but these giant balls of plasma-“ gesturing a ball with your hands now, thermos sitting between your legs, “-with their ongoing chemical reactions, sputtering molecules of hydrogen and helium and all, until they come to an end with their current phase of life. If you can call that life.” You say all these with your eyes locked onto the stars, Oikawa’s locked on you. You keep going.

“Speaking of life, what is even life? Aren’t we just a bunch of organic components somehow managing to come together, build a system and gain conscious somehow? Just trying to survive until an outer force comes or our cells come off? Isn’t it technically our cells living, in a way?”

“Aren’t we just piles of protein just walking around and doing things that make no sense but to us? Until we come to an end with our current phase of life? Doing what we see fit or fun or appropriate until it all ends.” It’s not a question any more. He doesn’t give you an answer.

“Aren’t we all children of the stars in a different point of view? All our molecules and elements coming from them. I mean, look at them. We see them blinking and smirking and smiling at us but for all we know they could’ve ended long ago. They could’ve become part of a new life for all we know. They break down and give birth to us, pieces of us; and in return we go back to them when we are gone. Despite being made of stardust, we live pretty shit lives huh?” You give him a lopsided smile, facing him as you say your last words.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time?” he replies.

“For far too long to pinpoint an exact date actually.” You almost say in a singsong voice. He frowns at that slightly.

“But I am right! Right? I mean, you’re a space nerd! You must know what I’m talking about.”

“Understanding and putting it into words in such a depressing way are two different things.”

Pouting at that, you look the opposite direction sharply. “Whatever, I know I am right.”

His gaze is still on you. “Is that what you’re like most of the time? I don’t get how Iwa-chan deals with you.” He must be shaking his head now.

“Iwa-chan can’t read minds last time I checked.” You deadpan.

His laugh fills the air at that. Light and lively, carefree; you doubt you’ve heard him laugh before. It sounds wonderful.

You wonder how things would’ve been between you and Oikawa, if the circumstances were different. If you never met Iwaizumi that day, would your paths still cross? Would you finish your Aoba Johsai years never meeting him?

Would you meet Oikawa on your own? Could you ever be friends, instead of dancing around one another and spitting out insults whenever you can? Would you like him in another world? Value his friendship, the person he is? Would the two of you have met before or become something more?

All these unanswered questions hanging in the air and you find yourself looking at him again.

His smile looks different now, he looks different, changed. Almost breathtaking. Is that what Iwaizumi means by his ‘fake smiles’?

A honest smile looks good on him.

You find yourself smiling back.

“Hey.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “If you still want to complain about the meaningless of life and all that, be my guest. I promise I won’t listen.”

Taken aback by his wording, you give him a confused look.

“Tonight doesn’t exist, remember?”

“…Right.” You decide to lean back and lie under the stars.

Feeling a tug at the blanket after a while, you see him placing the mug down next to the tire. You hand him your thermos as he regains his composure, he complies silently and leans back when he’s done.

All there is in the air is your faint breathing now. Never matching one another, sometimes loud, sometimes ghostly. There is no rhythm, no adjusting subconsciously. Completely independent.

You take a deep breath and start.

“It feels grey most of the time. Not in a ‘there’s never two sides, everything is grey, blah blah.’ But more like a numbness of grey.”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything, nothing to show or to indicate that he is listening. You continue talking.

“Like lacking all color and feeling in life, blocking all there is to see and enjoy and I am left with nothing but… grey.

Grey to the point of everything is filtered, there are no boundaries, it all feels the same, plays the same and I am afraid. I am afraid of hurting. Hurting myself, being hurt myself and hurting the ones around me. Not the ones I love, I don’t even know love. What is love?” You turn to look at him.

“I tried thinking about it, reading about it, understanding it on a chemical and hormonal way. Consulted mathematics and never got an answer. It feels made up, a fairy tale to feel better, to attach ourselves to one another.

I fear I came across love and didn’t notice it, I fear I brushed it off for something else and now it’s too late.”

With each pause, it gets easier to speak, harder to talk. Finding the right words, using your vocal chords, moving your tongue, writing your sentences in your mind. You don’t feel the tears gathering around your eyes or going down your cheeks. You wait for the robot title, to be called heartless and how you have a rock in your chest. They never come.

“Do you really fear of hurting him?” There’s no doubt he is talking about Iwaizumi.

“I don’t know.”

“But you care for him.”

“I don’t know.”

“Think before you answer.” He says then, voice stern.

“I think I care for him but I fear I will ruin him.”

The unspoken ‘how so?’ is in the air.

“I feel grey to the point of dust and decay. I fear everything I touch either drives away from me or decays. I don’t want to lose him. I think I care for him. But I don’t want to watch him stay by my side and crumble one by one.

I don’t want to go from grey to blue.”

“Doesn’t he make you happy? I’ve seen genuine smiles on you when you’re with him. You almost light up when he enter a room or sits beside you.”

“What’s the point of happiness if it’s dependent on one person? It is not fair to either parties.”

He starts tsking. “Too many don’ts for that age. You’ll end up with wrinkles before your thirties.”

He stops prying after that.

The air begins to grow colder, a little breeze picks up.

The stars are as cold as ever, blinking diamonds in the sky.

You swear you see the arm of Milky Way coming into motion, flowing like a stream.

For what feels like an hour, it is quiescent. You decide to break it one last time.

“Speaking of stars, you and Iwaizumi are like neutron stars. Can be found alone or orbiting one another, chasing after each other, forever together and merged at last. Both stars on your own but as captivating when together.”

The hour taking its toll on you, your senses grow duller. You can’t hear his breathing without focusing, even the stars are getting blurry.

“Then you’re like a black dwarf.” Oikawa speaks up. “Because you feel unreal most of the time.”

You both fall back into silence. You don’t ask him if he meant it as a compliment and he doesn’t answer.

You don’t need to know which way he meant, in a way, you already know the response to that.

Tonight isn’t real. It’ll cease to exist in a few hours and you let these rare moments sink in. Probably the closest you’ll ever be to Oikawa Tooru, closest see him like this. It almost feels familiar, like you’ve done this before, went on stargazing with him and opened your heart out to him. It feels like a dream, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You chuckle at your attempt of a joke lightly.

It is serene around the two of you and in your mind. A placidity you haven’t had without the help of a distraction in a long while.

“Thanks Tooru.”

His name falls out of your lips like you use it on the daily. Like the comforting shuffle of a worn out sweater as you put it on, the chirping of this family of birds living by your house for decades, the warm meow of your cat when you’re headed to bed. It sounds natural.

Scooting closer to him until your head rests on his chest. He just wraps his arm around you, pulling you further. Not a single word on your way of addressing him. And not a word from you on his way of holding you.

The moment will cease to exist in the morning, along with your confessions and the blinking lights of the stars. In a few hours it’ll no longer be real. So you decide to give it a shot at being close to him in all senses, share something the two of you will never have. Wrapping your arm around his torso, listening closely to his heart. Your head under his chin, his hand atop yours, you fall asleep until the sun comes.

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mortedeveles · 4 years

Text

A Letter To My Love.

P1: Chaotic Interviews. ALTML MASTERLIST.

NOTE: PLEASE READ THE NOTES IN THE MASTERLIST !

SUMMARY: Tamaki Amajiki, also known as the Pro Hero Suneater, has been your friends for years. You’ve known each other since U.A. During his entire life, Tamaki has fought against his internal demons, insecurities, and voices that rage in his mind. With the help of his friends Nejire and Mirio and you, he was able to overcome his fears and become one of the most successful Pro Heroes in Japan.

In the last few years, writing has become an outlet for Tamaki when he feels troubled. And being a Pro Hero comes with great luggage- including hyper fans and their strange romantic theories. One of them being 'TamaY/N', a romantic ship created by his fans. As an anonymous writer, Amajiki can finally express the love and affection he's harbored for Y/N for several years through fanfiction when he has spare time. But when Y/N discovers the infamous fanfiction after an awkward interview, drama, heartbreak, and confusion are bound to break loose.

PAIRING: ProHero! Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!ProHero!reader

THEMES: pining, fluff, angst, etc. [SERIES]

TW: cursing, sexual innuendos, mature themes.

a/n: my requests are open for business lovelies! i proofread this but if i made any mistakes, please let me know! as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! i appreciate the support and feedback <3

''His heart sings in joy in her presence. Around her, he's blessed with a sudden warmth that soothes his bones and washes over all the tension and strain in his muscles.''

_______

''Good morning!'' you greet hurriedly to all the workers you leave behind as you race towards the third floor.

Shit, shit, shit! You had an interview with an important press with Tamaki today and it was about to start in three minutes! Luckily, you'd managed to make it to Tamaki's agency on time, but you were yet to arrive at the designated floor. Once you reached the elevator, you let out a sigh of relief. It was empty and while you waited for the elevator to open, you began to pat and smooth over your Pro Hero costume.

It consisted of a sleeveless loose black top with a pair of black shorts, with silver armor that started from your shoulders up to your elbows, paired with black combat boots and silver gloves with some metal and gadgets that allowed you to improve the use of your quirk Liquify.

Before you knew it, the elevator dinged open and you quickly stepped out, plastering a bright smile on your face. The third floor had been emptied- and the equipment from the press stood in the middle- two elegant chairs, cameras and lights, and a few dozen reporters mingling. At the back of the floor, you noticed Tamaki, wearing his Pro hero suit. He was facing the wall- he tended to do when he was nervous.

''Good morning!" you greeted the reporters, who smiled in response. ''I apologize for my tardiness.''

''It's okay. It's a pleasure to meet you, Pro Hero Unda,'' a busy looking woman approached you. She glanced towards Tamaki. ''Do you think you could get Suneater ready for the interview?''

You shoved down a stressed sigh and nodded. ''I'll get him right away!" with one last smile, you stepped away and approached the nervous blue-haired man.

''Tama,'' you spoke in a soft voice and pressed a hand on his shoulder. He was slightly trembling and was muttering something along the lines of 'I want to go home.'

''Y/N,'' his voice was trembling. ''You're late.''

''Ma'am?'' you called out to the lady that had approached you earlier. ''We're ready.''

You sighed and pinched your nose. ''I know, Tama,'' your heart felt heavy. ''I'm really sorry. I was busy doing paperwork and time flew by. Can you forgive me?''

He nodded and turned around and you nearly jumped with joy. The two of you approached the press and sat down on the chairs.

All of the workers quickly surrounded you and you clenched your fists on your lap. Now that they were all crowded around you, it felt like all of them were studying you, nitpicking and silently judging you in their eyes.

You glanced towards Tamaki. It wasn't a surprise that he looked like he felt the same as you. Offering him a small smile, you squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. He offered you a weak smile.

''Good morning, Japan! This is your favorite reporter, Hirano Chizue! I'm live with our two favorite Pro-Heroes, Suneater and Unda!" the smile on her face was so dazzling you were sure it was fake.

''Alright! Let's get started!'' the businesswoman clapped her hands and sat down on the seat in front of you. ''Camera crew, get in position! We're live in 1..2...3!''

You heard several workers move behind you-most likely the ones with cameras and the lady in front of you held a microphone as she smiled towards the camera.

''How are you two doing this morning?'' She pointed the microphone towards both of you.

''Fine, thank you,'' you smiled softly. Tamaki swallowed and raised his gaze towards the businesswoman.

''I'm feeling okay, thank you for asking,'' his voice was somewhat low but at least he replied.

''Good, good!'' Hirano said. She pulled out a clipboard with a neat stack of papers.

''We're honored that you accepted to the interview. Do you mind if we start? The questions are fan-submitted and others are from our crew! Since the two of you are new rising heroes, Japan is eager to know the two of you!''

You didn't notice how Tamaki froze at the word 'fan'. You were barely a few minutes into the interview and you already felt exhausted. Nevertheless, you smiled and nodded.

''Not at all. Ask away.''

Hirano grinned- you didn't miss the hungry glint in her eyes- what type of questions had she chosen?

''This question is for Suneater!'' she shot him a brief smile before trailing her eyes on the paper. Hirano's smile grew.

''What's your relationship with Unda? Are the two of you dating?''

You coughed awkwardly, averting your gaze towards the floor.

''N-no,'' your friend sounded nervous. ''We're good friends, that's all.''

When Tamaki said the word 'friends', you couldn't stop the painful ache that throbbed in your chest. You knew that he meant well but you had hoped for years that one day, the two of you would be more than just friends. Clearly, today wasn't that day.

Hirano hummed in response, but she didn't seem convinced.

''The two of you have a beautiful friendship,'' she complimented. The two of you muttered a 'thank you'. Hirano's beady eyes focused on you.

''This question is for Unda! Tell me, your fans are dying to know more about your quirk! Could you give us a brief explanation of your quirk, Liquify?''

A good question, you thought with a smile. Even though it was modern times, the oppression of women and misogyny hadn't been fully eradicated- and it showed during Pro Hero interviews, asking women nothing but shallow questions while the men received interesting ones. Her question was quite refreshing.

''Of course!" this time, your smile was more genuine. ''So, my quirk Liquify focuses on the state of matter of an inanimate object. I can turn any inanimate object- it doesn't work on plants or animals- into liquid and bend it to my will! I can also return the material into its original state, but I can change its figure and volume,'' you waved your hands as you explained.

''That's a marvelous quirk! Would you mind giving us a demonstration?''

''That was an excellent demonstration, Unda!'' you shot Tamaki a glance. He was staring at the ground but when you glanced towards him, he met your eyes and smiled. You smiled back.

With a nod of agreement, you rose and grabbed the closest thing- an empty mug and wrapped your hand around it. When you opened your palm, the once red mug was now a red liquid hovering about your palm, sloshing side to side.

The press gasped in amazement and applauded. You smiled gratefully and returned to your seat.

''Thank you, miss.''

''Now,'' she flipped a page. ''Ooh. This is another question for you, Unda. It's quite a juicy question,'' Hirano bit her lip and grinned.

''Have you ever read books about TamaY/N?''

Next to you, Tamaki flinched in his seat and coughed lowly. No one seemed to notice, the attention was on you.

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head.

''I'm sorry, is it a book? What's TamaY/N? I haven't heard of it before...'' you trailed off and glanced at Tamaki, hoping for some kind of help, but he wouldn't meet your gaze. You noticed that the tip of his pointed ears was turning red. Was he feeling okay?

Hirano cackled and shook her head. ''No, TamaY/N is the ship name for Tamaki and you. The fans seem to like seeing the two of you together. It's called fanfiction.''

''Oh...'' you said, feeling clueless. Once the information sunk in, you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth. ''Oh.''

''Oh indeed,'' Hirano agreed. ''It's quite scandalous, you should read some on your own! You'd understand what I'm talking a-,''

''Oh, um, well...'' you nervously played with your fingers.

''Isn't this a professional interview?'' Tamaki snapped. His voice was loud and firm and Hirano flinched in her seat.

''I appreciate the support of fans but we are Pro Heroes and have a right to main-maintain our privacy. The status of our romantic experiences is private and will remain that way.''

You nodded in agreement, remaining silent as you had nothing else to add. Hirano looked surprised- she cleared her throat and quickly recollected herself with a smile.

''My sincerest apologies, Suneater, we didn't know you felt like this about your... relationship status. Here, let me find another question for Unda...''

The interview continued for half an hour- but the tension was much more tense and awkward than before. Tamaki gave short and clipped answers.

After the interview, Hirano quietly thanked you for your time and the press quickly left. After an hour, the only ones left were Tamaki and you. He was sitting in the corner of the room. He didn't look particularly nervous but the scowl on his face made you frown with worry.

Slowly, you approached him and sat down next to him. You spent a few minutes in silence before speaking up.

''Are you okay, Tama?''

You shook your head. ''It's okay. If you want to keep those inquires private, that's perfectly fine. And to be fair, it's better that way. The press feeds on any source or evidence of romance in the Pro Hero industry.''

Tamaki was silent. You noticed how he clenched his fists and lowered his head.

''I'm sorry,'' he mumbled. His shoulders slumped. ''I was being very rude and distant...''

Tamaki smiled at you- but the look in his eyes was distant.

''Yeah...''

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

After the exhausting interview, Tamaki and you had worked for hours in his agency- racing outside to save civilians, filing paperwork, until it was eight o'clock- his agency would be closing early today. The two of you walked towards Mirio's department- he said a celebration was necessary.

''Helloo!'' Mirio yelled loudly. You laughed as he grabbed Tamaki and you into a tight bear hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs. Even though he wasn't a Pro Hero, he was immensely strong.

''I saw the interview!"' Nejire popped up behind the blonde. ''It's your first interview, I think we should celebrate!"

''Congrats, Tama and Y/N!'' Eri said and joined the bear hug, along with Nejire.

''I-I can't breathe!" you complained and Tamaki groaned in agreement. Nejire and Eri giggled in amusement as the hug feel apart and everyone stepped back. Mirio jogged towards the dining table and brought a tray with four bowls with delicious takoyaki.

''I think we should celebrate with takoyaki. I've put on a movie that I think everyone will enjoy. Dig in!''

Immediately, Tamaki snatched the bowl and raced towards the sofa. You laughed in amusement and followed, holding your bowl of takoyaki.

You spent the rest of the night huddled next to Tamaki and Eri on the small sofa, eating takoyaki. Maybe it wasn't a fancy or expensive celebration, but you wouldn't trade anything in the world for moments like these- lively nights with your best friends. All previous thoughts of the awkward interview and whatever that lady had mentioned washed away, only to be brought back tomorrow.

a/n: well!! this is my first time writing for my baby tamaki!! what do you guys think? should i make a tag list for this series? dm me if you’re interested! xx

#mha tamaki #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #bnha amajiki #tamaki amajiki #mha x y/n #pro hero tamaki #fem!reader #pro hero! reader #fanfic series #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero fanfic #my writing #A Letter To My Love #mha fanfiction #veles' writing

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guide-on-how-to-read-faster · 3 years

Text

Guide on How to Read Faster?

Isn't it so much easier to get through school if you could complete your reading assignments three times as fast? Wouldn't it be more fun to jump right into a good piece of fiction and blaze through it in less than a day? Let's explore speed reading in more detail.

The two ways of thinking about speed reading may be familiar to you if you've already looked into the subject. It is said that speed reading is the essence of success and everything you have ever dreamed of. Others say speed reading is a myth and doesn't work. Truth usually lies somewhere in the middle.

When considering speed reading, the first thing you need to ask yourself is: "Why do I want to read faster?" While speed reading novels for pleasure requires a different approach than speed reading textbooks or research articles for understanding hard science, speed reading novels for pleasure requires one approach. When using RSVP tests or Rapid Serial Visual Presentations, individual words or blocks of two or three appear sequentially on the screen.

Reading Process

Before we move on to the techniques, it's important to understand the reading process.

Reading is the action of analyzing a piece of writing to understand its intended meaning. So, reading effectively requires more than just recognizing a series of words. You must also understand the relationship between the words and the unstated implications of the situation.

Compare this to skimming, which is the rapid consumption of text to gain a general idea of what you're reading. The gist of it will become apparent even if you don't comprehend the details. The goal of speed reading is to maintain skim-like reading speeds while maintaining reading-like comprehension.

An educated adult reads approximately 200-400 words per minute. It is claimed that speed readers can read thousands of words in a minute. To do so, they rely on peripheral vision.

The fovea, or center of your visual field, has the highest acuity, about 1° in any direction. The width of your thumb extended at arm's length is approximately this size. The parafovea has moderate acuity between 1 and 5° from the center, and the periphery is greater than 5° from the center. In peripheral vision, it is physically and biologically impossible to recognize and interpret the text.

Try looking at a stationary object, such as where the wall meets the ceiling. Keep your eyes smoothly moving from one side to the other of the line. Unfortunately, it is actually impossible. Multiple small, jerky movements of your eyes are called saccades. During reading, saccades allow the reader to fixate the fovea on a word by moving their eyes quickly.

When speed readers use their fingers to guide their eye movements, I initially thought they employed smooth pursuit. Smooth pursuit occurs when your eyes fixate on a moving object and can follow it smoothly. If you move your finger from side to side in front of you, your eyes will smoothly follow it without jerking. The finger technique speed readers use is less about the pursuit of smoothness and more about maintaining a metronomic pace as they read.

The saccades allow the fovea to focus on the next word. It is estimated that each fixation lasts around 250 milliseconds, but it can vary greatly based on legibility, difficulty, and whether it is proofreading or reading for comprehension or swiping. However, not every word is fixed.

In about half of the sentences, the word "the" is skipped. In certain cases, a word may be skipped even though it has been processed. The rapid serial visual processing (RSVP) technology is useful for displaying information (usually text or images) in which the text appears word-by-word in a fixed focal point. In addition to being a basic reading aid, RSVP is being investigated as a way to boost individual reading rates. Additionally, RSVP is being used for research in visual impairment, dyslexia, perceptual and cognitive psychology. There are many different languages and platforms available for RSVP.

Through these technologies, words are presented to the viewer in the center of the visual field in rapid succession, thereby eliminating the need for eye movements. In light of the aforementioned individual variations, visual processing physiology, and the way we comprehend language, I would argue that RSVP is an inefficient way to consume text. RSVP does not allow for regressions, which is another problem. Regression is a brief look backward in the text to return to an earlier word. The purpose of this is to correct errors' incomprehension. RSVP further reduces comprehension by eliminating the possibility of regressions.

According to proponents of speed reading, subvocalization, or using your inner voice while reading, will slow you down. Numerous studies have examined the effects of eliminating or minimizing subvocalization. Findings consistently indicated decreased comprehension. It makes sense that phonological processing is an important part of reading and comprehension, since all writing systems represent words, and since the primary form of language is vocal rather than visual.

What does all this mean? Perception of visual information occurs rapidly. However, reading is slowed down by linguistic processing. It has been demonstrated that language processing rather than the ability to control eye movements is the determining factor of reading speed in various studies. We are limited in our ability to read by our ability to identify and understand words rather than by our ability to see them. As a result, reading faster actually reduces comprehension, which may or may not matter depending on what you are reading.

Learn how to read faster

After we have clarified the science behind reading and speed reading, we will take a look at how to speed read faster. To read faster, one does not need to read the same way for every reading goal.

As a method of improving one's reading comprehension and speed, it is suggested that one practice more reading. Even though this does help, it's a very slow and gradual process that doesn't produce drastic changes.

To drastically improve speed, comprehension must be reduced. We need to read slower to increase comprehension. There's no way around that; you can only improve slowly.

In each case, we have to balance reading comprehension with reading speed. Is it possible to reduce comprehension minimally, while increasing speed maximally? I have found the following techniques to be the most useful over the years.

1) Determine the Type of Reading

Determine your reading goal and the type of reading you will perform first. It is not necessary to maximize comprehension for every reading task. Do you read nonfiction for pleasure? Do you proofread an essay for a friend? Do you read a textbook for class? Do you read high yield notes and bullet points for one of your classes?

Having a clear goal in mind will help you determine the minimum level of comprehension required and, therefore, the maximum speed that can be achieved.

2) Remain Flexible

Secondly, make sure your speed is flexible. During the reading process, you will come across sections of text that are easy for you. It's a simple language, you understand the concepts, and you can easily get through it. You don't have to focus on every word to understand it.

In other sections, you will be introduced to new words or concepts that require your attention. Often, this will happen, so you must be flexible with your reading speed to optimize your speed/comprehension balance. If you're not sure about the significance of a paragraph, focus on its first and last sentences.

3) Use a Pacer

Use a pacer, such as your finger or a pen. You can follow along with your eyes by running your pacer below each line from end to end. You will instantly increase your reading speed with minimal comprehension loss.

It is important to find the sweet spot between pushing the boundaries of your comfort zone and only slightly reducing comprehension. My opinion is that if you reduce comprehension by 10% but gain 50% in speed, that's not a bad tradeoff. The pacer will need to move faster in places and slower in others, as described above.

Different Types of Reading

1) Textbooks

There is often a lot of unnecessary text in textbooks. There's no need to worry if you accidentally skip a paragraph or a whole section. Pay attention to bolded words or sections that contain key information, and speed up while reading text that adds context to what you've already learned.

Identifying what is important in each section by looking at section headings and bolded terms will make it easier for you to read the section. It may take a few minutes at first, but overall, if you execute it properly, you should save time.

When I'm finished reading a section or page, I summarize what I've learned. Alternatively, I can write a few bullet points or speak out loud to myself. This greatly improves retention and comprehension.

2) Books for Pleasure

If you read for pleasure, you can do whatever you want. If you want to enjoy the nuances of language, then you should slow down. In contrast, if you only wish to grasp the gist, it won't be a problem if your comprehension drops considerably.

It very much depends on the book and what you hope to gain from it. Depending on the book, I read every word or skip sections. The majority of books fall somewhere in the middle.

3) Research

In reading research articles, which you will read a lot during your pre-med, medical school, and residency years, follow a systematic approach. The best way to gain a deeper understanding of the abstract is to read it slowly and carefully. Focus on those key points when you read the full article.

Spend a few minutes reading the abstract, a few introductory paragraphs, the methods and results in sections quickly, and then spend more time on the conclusion.

A Guide to Speed Reading

Problem – The amount of reading material available these days is so overwhelming that often it's impossible to keep up. In this way, we scroll headlines and teasers instead of reading content that will actually educate us. Our lives are often dominated by the pressure to finish our daily tasks on time or keep up with the latest developments in our areas of interest, regardless of whether we are at work or studying.

Solution – Today, speed reading is a highly valuable and essential skill. People who master speed reading techniques can read as much as three times faster than the average reader, who usually reads between 200 and 250 words per minute.

Benefits – When speed reading, the human brain is challenged to perform faster and better. With speed reading, your brain will be trained to absorb information much faster than it is used to. As a result, your memory and brain function will be improved. Additionally, you may benefit from increased general and specialized knowledge, improved problem-solving skills, or increased self-confidence.

A Final Thought

We have compiled this article to teach you how to read faster. This article will describe how speed reading techniques work and provide you with tips, information, and resources to help you read and learn more quickly.

#speed reading #guide on read faster

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saviorsbookcafe · 4 years

Text

The Savior's Book Café in Another World: Chapter 1

INDEX || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Chapter 1: Forced to Another World

Translated by: sydney Proofread by: Necro

A glowing white sphere is floating in a pitch-black space.

It’s the size of the palm of my hand, almost as if the sun had shrunk into this sphere of light.

From the sphere, a low masculine voice is talking to me about various things, but I’m only listening to it absentmindedly, feeling far from reality.

Why am I here...? Is this a dream?

A dream where I’m in this place that makes no sense, where a sphere that also makes no sense is talking to me.

“Are you listening? Tsukina Mizumori, I want you to go to a world that’s different from the one you’ve been living in until now.”

This sphere, who keeps repeating itself and calling my name as if to confirm that that’s me, calls itself God.

This sort of thing has been popular lately, hasn’t it, I think in the back of my mind.

Transportation to or reincarnation in another world has been a popular concept in recent media.

Despite having been told by my friends I’m such a bookworm that ‘bookworm’ seems like a word made up just for you, I actually haven’t read much of this genre.

Maybe I’ve been wanting to read them, if I’m dreaming about it. Maybe I’ll go buy one when I wake up.

As I’m lost in my thoughts, the sphere in front of me begins talking to me again, its tone somewhat disapproving.

“Are you going to answer me?”

Dreams like this certainly don’t feel as realistic after turning thirty-three, or rather, this dream feels too childish to feel realistic.

For a moment, I thought maybe I’ve been stressed lately, but recently each day has been fulfilling in some way, so that can’t be it.

There hasn’t been much trouble at the job I’ve been working at for years, and I’m on good terms with my coworkers.

My relationships with my coworkers rarely change on a personal level, but we’ll talk at lunch, and occasionally we’ve gone out together after work to enjoy ourselves.

The bookworm that I am, I usually want to read immediately after work, so these relationships are perfect for me.

Today too, once work ended I went directly home and wanted to get right to reading, so I should have finished eating dinner and opened up my book.

And then suddenly I was here.

“Hey, this is important. Will you actually listen to me?”

“I am listening. Why do I have to go to some other world?”

As if in a good mood because I replied, the sphere starts spinning around me.

The light from the sphere isn’t that strong, but because everything else is pitch black, it felt painfully bright.

Come to think of it, even though it’s pitch black in here, for some reason I can see myself clearly.

“The selection is completely random. I’ve already sent several others to the world I’m about to send you to. You’ve been chosen, just like them. To become a Savior and save the world.”

“Oh, then if there are others it’s fine if I don’t go, right?”

“...huh?”

As if taken by surprise by my response, the cheerful sphere stops right in front of me.

The sphere floating in the air of course does not have any facial expression, but I know that it is surprised.

It stays still for a short while, then begins moving frantically around my face in disbelief.

“I’m talking about transporting you to another world, you know? That’s supposed to be popular in your world’s books! The other kids went happily!”

“Well even so, it’s fine if I don’t go. I don’t care if you want me to save the world or whatever, if there are already others going then they’ll do it for you.”

“No, no no no!”

It looks like the sphere had begun sweating as its perfectly round shape collapses a little, and it moves back and forth violently as if denying my words.

Whether this situation is a dream or reality, my answer is one and the same: No.

“Wh-why?”

“Why would I accept? I can’t even believe that the others went.”

“They were excited, so they didn’t fight it. You’re the first person to say no.”

“Excited? Oh, come to think of it, you said “the other kids,” didn’t you. Were the other people you sent young kids?”

“Yes, they were all in their teens.”

Then why are you sending someone in their thirties like me, it’d be fine if they were all younger.

“If I were in my teens like those kids, then I might have gone happily too. But as you’d expect, when you get to my age, you think a lot more.”

Just hearing the phrase transported to another world is a little thrilling.

The self-proclaimed god in front of me casually explained it earlier, but it sounds like this other world is like the world of an RPG.

Me, playing a major role in a world of swords and magic, meeting new people and going on adventures in a world overflowing with things I’ve never seen before.

But once I think about it, I realize that it’s certainly not all going to be so charming.

“You said it’s a world with fighting, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll grant your wish before sending you there. When this world’s humans travel there, they obtain tremendous amounts of magic. With that power, even just by learning one type of Great Magic that only Saviors can wield, you can bend the world to your will. That’s why the humans of that world call you ‘Saviors.’ So I’ll grant you anything aside from magic powers. Well, if you say you want even more advanced magic than that, I can do that. The other kids asked for strong weapons or improved physical abilities. Oh, and there was one girl who asked to change her appearance.”

“I’m not good with pain, or rather I avoid situations where I might get hurt. And I’m the type of person to feel guilty even over something like killing a bug, so no matter how many weapons or physical abilities I get, I won’t be able to kill any monsters or anything.”

I take the sphere’s sudden silence as a chance to keep talking, and open my mouth again.

“You know, when you get to my age, you’ve already built a life for yourself. Yes, it’s not like I love my work, or that I love the world I’m living in. But my life here is stable. I make a living, and have friends to keep me company. A new world certainly sounds thrilling, but that would mean completely starting over in a new environment. It sounds like it’ll be completely different from the world I’ve been living in so far, so I’ll have to throw away all of the knowledge and culture I’ve learned and start over, right? Meeting new people sounds nice, but I’d be starting over in a place where no one knows me. It’s a little late to give up my house, my work, and all my friends around me to restart my life.”

Just thinking about it, there are too many cons.

It’s already a pain just to transfer jobs or move houses, but switching worlds would be even worse.

“Even so, I need you to go. It’s basically mandatory, or rather it is mandatory,” the sphere begins in a quiet voice, a complete change from it’s loud voice until now.

Some part of its voice is forceful, and I know I am losing ground.

“Absolutely?”

“Absolutely.”

“I already told you, I can’t fight at all!”

“That world’s balance is maintained just by sending humans from this world. It’s a world where, even if you don’t save the world, just being there as a Savior with lots of magic will keep the world stable, and bountiful resources will be born. Since the others I’ve already sent will fight and learn Great Magic, I personally don’t mind if you just live there quietly.”

“......”

Now I really have nothing to argue.

At this point, there’s no sign that I’ll wake up, and I’m starting to sense that this isn’t a dream.

The only thing that can pull me out of this incomprehensible space is the self-proclaimed god in front of me.

And at this rate, it doesn’t seem to have any intention of returning me to my original world.

But if this is reality, then if I mess up here, that might cause problems for me later.

After giving me a moment to wonder what to do about it, the sphere spoke up apologetically.

“I’m sorry, but I have no choice but to send you to the other world. In exchange, I promise that I’ll grant any of your wishes. Don’t you have one? A dream you had in your old world, for example. If it’s something that can come true even in a different world, then I’ll do everything I can to make it happen.”

“A dream...?”

I’ve been earning my living on my own, with no desire to get married, and I’ve never even thought about having kids.

My time to myself is so valuable that you could say I’ve never felt it necessary to spare any for others.

Going out with my close friends sometimes was enough engagement with others for me.

So for my life plans, I thought I would stay single and work until I retire, and then maybe I’d open a small shop.

A small book café with my favorite things -- cooking and reading.

A store with my favorite books from around the world, surrounded by quiet antiques.

I wouldn’t even need to profit, I just want a relaxed shop where a few regulars come to read, and even if people are there, I can read with them.

Though it’ll be in another world, is this sphere saying I can make that dream come true right now?

I’ve already made a plan, and I’ve been saving, but I thought that was just a crazy dream that would never come true.

Now that I think about it, aren’t all of my savings from these years meaningless now?

That makes me a little angry.

In either case, if I have to go.

There’s no reason for anyone to complain if I take as much from this god as he took from my life’s plans.

There shouldn’t be anything wrong with taking as much as I can as compensation for suddenly being tossed into a new world.

If I don’t, I’ll be out in the cold in a world I don’t know anything about, a dangerous world with monsters living in it.

“It’s really okay for me to just live a quiet life, right?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“You said you’d do anything, but can I wish for as many things as I want?”

“Yes, but...well, everyone until now only wished for one thing each.”

“Huh? You didn’t tell them they could ask for multiple things?”

“Why? They thought one was enough, and so they just wished for one thing and went, right?”

“No, I think it was just a simple misunderstanding.”

This is bad. This sphere seems like a good person, but that might not actually be the case.

No, the moment it showed up with this story, it proved it isn’t a good person.

This is so complicated that it’s best to just try wishing for something.

I try to remember what this God said about that world.

“Um...there’s monsters, a demon king, and several countries. If there are warring countries, then there are allied countries. Is the currency, language, and fundamental knowledge the same no matter which country I’m in?”

“Yes.”

“How do people know about our, or the Saviors’ existence?”

“Hm, most countries want Saviors. I mentioned it before, but when humans from this world travel to that world, they obtain tremendous, no, you could even say phenomenal amounts of magic. They’re something every country is desperate to get their hands on.”

“So if, for example, I didn’t tell anyone, would people know I was a Savior?”

“Upon arriving there, the Savior’s Mark will appear on your body. If that’s seen, people will probably figure it out.”

“Mark? You don’t mean like a tattoo, right? I want to avoid pain or any flashy symbols.”

“It won’t hurt, and it’s nothing flashy. It’s more like a design that will appear on you.”

“Then can I choose where that mark appears?”

“That is possible.”

“Then, somewhere it won’t stand out...can I put it under my hair or something? Like, on the back of my head under my hair, so even if I put my hair up it won’t be seen.”

I lifted up my hair and pointed to a place on the back of my head.

My hair goes just past my shoulders, and I’ve never dyed it before, but it’d probably be perfect if my hair was black to hide that Savior’s Mark.

“Understood. But that’ll only work for normal magic, if you use Great Magic, it’ll glow and stand out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, and I’ll make sure never to use it in front of people.”

For now, it looks like I’ve gotten the fundamental culture of that world and how to hide that I’m a Savior.

No matter how much it’s asked of me, the fact that I can’t fight won’t change.

Even if I have the strongest magic, I’ll always lose to an enemy.

Having lived for three decades and then some, I know myself well.

I can’t fight like the protagonist of a story.

If I could, I’d like to live quietly, so I want to hide the fact that I’m a Savior.

Now, I have to figure out what country in that world I’m going to.

If I end up in a strange country, then far from running a café, I could get caught up in war turmoil, or threatened by monsters.

If there’s a peaceful country that can protect itself, that would be best.

“As of right now, is there a country that’s very peaceful and has a solid defense?”

“Yeah, it’s big but there is one. The royal family aren’t strict about their status, and are advocates for peace. And their knights are very skilled, so the country is rarely damaged even by violent monster attacks.”

“I want a small café I can live in within that country’s territory, somewhere sort of secluded from any towns. Like in a forest that doesn’t stand out too much.”

“There’s a thick forest somewhat away from the towns, so I’ll put it there. Briefly imagine your ideal café in your head. I’ll make one based on that. But since the forest is dense, I don’t think you’ll get many customers.”

“It’s not like I really want to work that much. I just want to be able to enjoy my cooking and reading.”

As I said that, I realized that this lifestyle isn’t guaranteed to work.

It’s not complete, I still need to do something about living expenses and all.

That is to say, even if I got my café moved to the center of the city, if customers didn’t come in, the café would go out of business.

And I want an environment where I can collect and read all kinds of books.

“I’ll want to be able to get books from all around the world, ingredients and other daily necessities every so often, so is there anything you can do about that? Oh, and money.”

“You have a lot of requests...well, alright. How about this?”

As soon as God said that, a sparkling antique-style locket appeared in front of me.

The pendant is entirely silver, a flower design atop a diamond-shaped locket, threaded onto a thin chain.

In the center of the flower sits a small, translucent blue stone.

As I reach out to the gently floating pendant, it drops into my hand.

It’s lighter than I expect, and simple but a nice design that I like.

The metal of the pendant, the perfect size to fit in my hand, is cool against my skin.

I open up the locket, but there’s nothing inside.

I look over at the sphere, not knowing what to do with this pendant.

“When you squeeze that, a search screen like on a computer will appear in your mind. You can type letters just by thinking of them, so you’ll be able to summon things using that search bar. Because it’s god-made, it won’t break, and to anyone but you it’ll be a normal necklace. Money included, you’ll be able to summon most anything.”

This is a pretty useful necklace, even if I end up in an unsettling place, worst comes to worst I can just hide away in the café.

From now on, this pendant is my lifeline.

I squeeze it tightly in my hand.

As long as I have this, I’ll be okay, but what if I lose it, or if it’s stolen?

“Is there any option for having it automatically return to me if I lose it, or it’s stolen, and ensuring that no one doubts the things I summon with it?”

“...I’ll add them.”

It feels like the sphere floating in front of me is getting a little tired from my thoroughness, but this isn’t any time to hold back.

This is a matter of life or death.

It’s clear that if I don’t confirm everything I can think of, then whatever happens next will be bad.

“There aren’t any family registries there, right? Even if it’s not on paper, I want to have a story for where I came from.”

“Then, let’s say your village burned down during the war, and you were the only survivor. The war orphans there get a fixed status, so you won’t be discriminated against.”

“You said the languages are the same as my world until now, but does each country have its own language, like English and Japanese? If so, then I want to be able to read and understand all of them.”

“You can already understand the languages, so you can speak them, but anything else I’ll make sure you can automatically understand.”

Since I can get anything I can think to ask for, that in itself actually makes me uneasy.

But even if this seems greedy, I have to take what I can get and ask what I need to know.

Despite living in a world that only knows peace until now, I’m being suddenly taken into a world with fighting every day.

I don’t plan to hold back here only to die in another world.

“You said that I’ll have lots of magic, right? What kind of people can use magic?”

“Hoh....”

The sphere that had been quickly answering all my questions until now let out an interested sound, and began moving around me.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I was just thinking that out of all the people I’ve sent to that world, I’ve never gotten that question before. I will give anyone what they request, and answer anything they ask. But I don’t give things people haven’t requested, or provide detailed answers to questions that haven’t been asked.”

“In other words, none of the people you’ve sent know anything about magic?”

“That would be the case. As for your question, you Saviors have magic, but don’t know any spells. To put it in the words of your world so it’s easier to understand, you have unlimited magic points, and you have magic commands. But you haven’t learned a single spell.”

“In that case, how do you learn magic?”

“You have to be taught by the people living there, or teach yourself with books.”

“Great Magic too?”

“You’d have to find fairly old books and learn from them. The theory of it is difficult, so you probably won’t be able to use it just from reading about it. Even if you are a Savior, you’d need a considerable amount of studying. And I said this before, but to me, the Great Magic that only Saviors can learn is like a bonus. The humans there seem to want you to become the kind of Savior who develops or protects the country and brings peace to the world, but if I had to say, I think of you all as the type of Savior who balances the world just by being there.”

Then there’s no need to learn Great Magic, I thought, but then I wondered what would happen if a Savior who’s learned Great Magic is in a country that attacks the country I go to, and got a bad feeling.

“By the way, will I be able to use some amount of magic just by reading the magic textbooks over there?”

“Hmm.... Each Savior’s magic sense differs, so it’s hard to say for certain. But for general spells, if you practice a few times then you should be able to get them. The more you use them, the more powerful your spells will become, and the more the amount of magic you have will increase.”

“You said that you’ll give anyone the things they request, right? Then if I say I want to be able to use Great Magic from the start, what would happen?”

“Of course, I would give it to you. You will also gain more magic to match those spells.”

It really feels that the one who asks is the one who wins.

Receiving these spells without any practice seems like something I’d be criticized for, but when it comes down to that or my life, my life is obviously more important.

By making sure I have Great Magic here, I should have more magic than the other Saviors, and I can enjoy the benefit of having that Great Magic.

“What kind of things does Great Magic include?”

“There is no good way to explain it aside from saying that there are various types.... There are types like offensive magic with the strongest offensive power, defensive magic that can put up the strongest barriers, or recovery magic that can heal any wound or ailment.”

“Offensive magic and defensive magic can exist at the same time? Doesn’t that mean one of them isn’t the strongest...?”

“That’s where it’s up to the user’s magic and sense, and how much experience they have.”

“I see.”

I bring my hand to my mouth and think for a moment.

Absolutely not offensive magic, since I won’t be able to use it fully, and I wouldn’t be able to attack someone in time.

Recovery magic sounds good, but the chances of me dying before I get to use it seem high.

“Can I learn multiple types of Great Magic?”

“That’s hard for any Savior to do. Just using one spell will have you bedridden for days from magic deficiency. It’s a fine thing that’ll make your head explode the moment you learn a second type.”

“Then please make me able to use defensive Great Magic from the start.”

Magic I can use to protect myself in an instant, this feels like the best thing to raise my chances of survival.

Even if I’m attacked, if I can dodge the first attack and gain some distance, then I can use that defensive magic to escape.

Although if I die from the first attack, or can’t gain any distance and panic, it won’t help me.

If I’m able to learn other types of magic from textbooks, then I want to try learning it myself.

“By the way, do you personally think that I’ll be able to use ordinary magic without a problem?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll be able to use it just fine.”

“I see. Then...what will happen to my existence in my world up until now?”

“You’ll have died when you were young. There’s no better way to explain it, but as for your environment, there won’t be anything unnatural.”

“...yeah.”

Well, that’s alright. If I went missing, then my coworkers and friends would be worried.

In that case, it’s better that they’d never met me in the first place.

“If your mind or situation changes and I can go back to where I came from, then you’d put everything back to how it was, right?”

“I don’t think that day will come, but, well, if it does, then I promise.”

As I looked at the sphere, my mind turned, thinking, is there anything else, is there really nothing else?

That is to say, I can’t say that my head was calm at this point.

I can see that I’ll be thinking, I should have asked for this too.

"When I go there, will I be able to contact you?”

“Normally this would be the end. At most, I might go check up on you occasionally.”

“Then, can you make it so I can contact you? And so you’ll grant my wishes at that time?”

“Alright. But this time you only get three. You can’t wish for more, and I’ll only answer your call and grant your wishes three times.”

“Thank you very much.”

“However, I will not get involved with the life or death of humans. I cannot bring any human back to life nor take the life of any human.”

“Understood. Oh, there’s one more thing....”

“There’s more?!”

It feels like there is fatigue and grief in God’s voice, but I ask for everything I can think of without holding back.

Ultimately, God’s form crumpled twice more, and its previously perfectly round form had now turned into a sort of bean-like shape.

Its light had dimmed, and it feels like it’s flickering a little bit.

Despite being sent by this terribly depressed God, I don’t have any regrets.

If I need anything else, I’ll call this God without any hesitation.

And thus begins my life in an alternate world, filled with extremely real dreams.

With no exhilarating adventures, no fighting, where I’ll do all I can to avoid interacting with the outside world -- that kind of life in an alternate world.

To the young people who are also travelling here, I’ll tell you now that I will leave saving the world to you, so I’m sorry, and thank you in advance.

Translation Notes:

“the selection is completely random”: in the manga this got very mixed up (partially due to my unclear translation) so I’ll just clear it up here -- God didn’t choose who is going, he is simply the (unfortunate) messenger of this whole thing

“the other kids went happily”: the word in Japanese here is 子 ko can be used to refer to someone younger or lower in status, so God uses this to refer to all of the Saviors, no matter their age. however it can also be used to refer to what the English word “kid” refers to -- someone in their teens or younger (depending on the context), which is where the initial misunderstanding of “the other kids” comes from in Japanese

"family registry": this is essentially a government record of you and your family members that you would have a copy of, and you update it when you have kids or when someone dies (it’s a little similar to a birth certificate or something)

#savior's book cafe #savior's book cafe translation #bookcafenovel #chapter 1 #forced to another world #translation notes

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

You & Me : chapter 40

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34|| CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: i hope this isnt too much and that youre still enjoying this story! its almost over tho, so if you have any request please send them asap! I have a few more chapters planned but I could always add a few filler chapters if you guys send me ideas. so yea, thank you!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : here are the requests i used. im sorry about the Julia one, they couldnt have a very big and deep talk because it was Liv’s chapter but I still wanted to add her in because i really like her :) hope its okay!

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 40 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

May 7th, 2018

It was quite late but we were both packing our things in silence. I had waited last minute to do it while Niall had to wait until he was back from his concert, which resulted in us doing it together. I missed going to see him play and sing and the thought made something stir in my stomach. I couldn't believe I stopped myself from going to see him do what he loved the most to do in the entire universe just because I was scared of what some losers could write in an online article. The more I thought about it, the more I found that completely ridiculous. I was about to mention something about it when I heard Niall talk, breaking the silence.

"Oh, I totally forgot to give you that." He leaned closer to me and handed me a small box that was wrapped in pretty pink paper. I frowned but took it in my hand anyway as he shrugged. "A fan told me to give it to you. Apparently, she was really sad when we broke up."

I stared at the small box on y hand and licked my lips. I knew most of it were just rumors, but I also knew that some people believe everything they'd read online. Still, this time, I couldn't blame them since it was the truth. I quickly unwrapped it and grabbed the note first, reading it out loud.

"We thought Niall was the biggest One Direction fan in the world, but we've seen you multiple times with random One Direction merch and we thought you may enjoy this."

I frowned more but when I saw the necklace, I let out a louder laughter. It made Niall frown too and I looked up at him with a smirk, bringing my hand closer to him. Around my fingers was hanging a necklace with his face on it. It seemed to be very old merch, probably from 2011, and I saw him grimace.

"No, Liv!" he whined as I put it around my neck and I chuckled again.

"Hey, it's a gift!" I argued. "Besides, I didn't have this one. I love it."

"You're such a pain." he joked, making me laugh this time.

I didn't see it coming but he literally jumped on me and I fell on the bed with a high scream. He pinned me down and started tickling me, holding both my wrists with one hands as the fingers of the other squeezed my waist, making my body jerk.

"Noooo! Niall stop!"

I squirmed, kicking him and hitting him without really knowing or controlling what I was doing. It took him a few seconds to stop and he stared down at me with a smirk as my lips were parted. I was panting low, not even able to enjoy his body on top of mine.

"Please, let me wear the necklace." I almost begged in a low voice.

His eyes roamed on me for about a minute and finally, the left corner of his lips raised up and he nodded once before moving closer to kiss me.

I had decided to follow him in Spain even if I had no idea when I'd have to fly back to California. We still had a few episodes to film but I was hoping Niall could come with me. He only had a few concerts left before he'd be off for a few weeks and even if he had to fly to the UK at the end of the month, I was thinking he could spend almost two weeks with me. I knew all we did was live in our luggage, going from airports to airports but at the same time, we were together and it's really all that mattered to me.

His lips moving slowly against mine made my heart twist in my chest. I loved him so much, I always would and I knew it. I was starting to trust him again, so much that the tiny ball of fear that seemed to live permanently in my stomach was now gone. I had decided that I wanted to live this plenty, to not hold grudges of fears that came from our past. I wanted to move forward and I knew that we had both changed for the better.

May 8th, 2018

We woke up early to catch our flight and I put my sunglasses on because I knew I looked exhausted. They were heart shaped but were black instead of my usual pink or purple ones for the simple reason I thought it would be less obvious to the people around that I had puffy and tired eyes. I didn't mean travelling if it meant being with Niall, but that didn't mean it was it wasn't sucking up all my juice.

I didn't expect the airport to be crowded but it was, and I moved my head down, trying not to catch anyone's attention. The fans started screaming, the paps started yelling at Niall to look their way, and when one of them moved too close to us, I felt my heart jump in my chest and without thinking, I grabbed Niall's hand. I realized my mistake and quickly let go of it only to feel his fingers tighten around mine. I could swear the flashes became even more intense right after and I glanced at Niall, licking my lips as I heard similar questions being yelled around us.

"Are you two back together?"

"Did you cheat on Dylan and Heidi together?"

"Are all the rumors true?"

We both held each other's hand tighter at the sound of all these questions being thrown at us and we kept walking as they followed us. I could feel my heart beat so hard in my chest that I felt like it was about to escape. I swallowed hard trying to relax a bit as I kept glancing at my boyfriend.

"Does that mean we're official?" Niall asked me, squeezing my fingers even more after he stopped walking, and moved closer to make sure I was the only one who heard.

I turned his way and licked my lips, trying to ignore the flashes and the sounds of the cameras. I was not used to that much attention, or at least, not as intense as it was being at that moment, but even if it was a bit intimidating, I was not scared.

"Do you want us to be?"

His gaze moved on my face as he studied me before sending me a fond smile. "Yes, I do."

I sent him a gentle smile that turned into a very big one. "We're official then."

"Fuck yes." he whispered, making me chuckle.

He pulled on my hand and we started walking again but as we were about to pass the gate, he quickly and roughly moved our hands up to show our intertwined fingers and it surprised me so much I felt my heart skip a few beats.

"FUCK YES!" he repeated in a yell, making me burst into laughter this time.

If I wasn't sure Niall loved me, I definitely was now. The fact that he literally told the world we were together proved much more than anyone could believe. I knew he was private, and so was I. I also knew he didn't like his private life to be in the spotlight, or talked about, or known, and him showing everyone, fans and paps included, that we were an item by throwing our hands up just showed me how committed he was. People would talk about us and the wrong things we did to Dylan and Heidi, people would definitely criticize us as individuals but also as a couple and I knew that for a while, people would stop talking about his music and my tv show only to blab shit about our love, but he thought it was still worth it and even if I was a bit surprised, it touched me more than I thought it would. And just like that, the blinded trust I had for Niall until he broke up with me was back, and I knew that this time, it would be different.

---

We took a nap when we arrived at the hotel and when I woke up, it was the middle of the afternoon and Niall's arm was wrapped around me as he was laying on his stomach. I ran my fingertips on his arm and reached his back, making him groan slightly. He looked so good, his eyes closed, his bottom lip a bit over his upper one in a cute pout and his hair a bit messy. It made something come alive inside me and I realized that we went through so many things to get back pretty much where we used to be. The difference was us and the way we had grown, and I knew that what we lived when we were away from each other was needed to have the relationship we had at that very moment.

I tried not to wake him up and sat up slowly and gently in bed, rubbing my eyes and yawning before grabbing my phone. I knew he didn't want me to but I searched for his name and mine in google and a bunch of pictures from the airport appeared. My lips curled more at the picture of us walking away while Niall held our hands up together. I stared at it for a few minutes and pressed my lips together, feeling suddenly ecstatic and a bit dizzy. It was really happening. I was back with Niall and we were happy together. In all the months we were apart, I had wished for it, but I never thought it would really happen at some point.

"What are you looking at?" he mumbled low, taking me out of my thoughts. "You're smiling."

I turned to him and my excited smile turned into a fond one. His eyes were half-closed and his face was still pressed on the pillow. In fact, I was pretty sure he hadn't moved at all and looking at him made something stir in my stomach. There was nothing I loved more than waking up with him, except maybe falling asleep in his arms.

I tilted my head and let the left corner of my lips raise up before turning the screen his way. It took him a few seconds to let what he was seeing sink in and he smiled too.

"Oh look, that's us telling the world we're back together." he pointed out slowly and in a low tone, an amused smile curling his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm never that impulsive normally. But I've been waiting for that for a while." He paused and I felt his arm hold my waist tighter before he squirmed a bit and put his head on my lap. "It's okay though, because this is meant to last, so everyone may as well know now. What do ya say?"

I brought my hand to his head and ran my fingers in his hair gently, making his eyes flutter. "I agree." I whispered, making him smile more.

"We're gonna get married and have a few kids. And dogs, too. I love dogs."

This time, I chuckled and licked my lips. He had mentioned marriage a few times in the past weeks and I loved it. He used to be so scared of commitment and the future and now he was literally planning it for us.

"You know what we should do now?" he asked, making me shake my head. "Stay in bed all day. Order food, watch tv, and make out. Champagne and you. That sounds perfect."

I smiled widely. "Gotta celebrate the fact that we're official, now."

"Damn right."

After a few hours, we were done eating and the bottle of champagne was empty. We were still laying in bed but I had stopped following the movie and kept staring at the ceiling. What took me out of my thoughts, once again, was Niall's voice. I blinked a few times, trying to get back to my senses, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Mm?" I asked, making him laugh.

He stopped the movie quickly before grabbing the sheets of the bed, pulling them over our heads and once again locking us together in our safe place. I smiled at him and turned my body his way as he did the same. It was always a bit stifling to stay under the covers for a while but at the same time, it made me feel secure like nothing else did.

"How hard did that champagne hit?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Mm, i'm tipsy." I admitted, laughing too.

"Me too." he let out, his eyes roaming on my face. "You know I want to marry you for real, right? I want to promise to be yours forever. I want to literally show everyone that no one else will ever mean to me as much as you mean to me."

"I want it too. I want to be your wife. Niall I want it more than anything."

I felt my heart jump in my chest at my confession and we kept looking at each other for a few minutes in silence. He found my left hand and brought it up to his eyes level before running his thumb gently on my ring finger. I bit my bottom lip, trying to imagine what it would feel like to be his wife, and I swallowed hard, almost ashamed that I let my mind wonder so far.

"One day..." he just murmured before looking up in my eyes. "How many kids?"

"Five." I let out, making his eyebrows raise.

"Jesus Christ, do you want to kill me, woman?"

This time, I started laughing and he pulled me closer with a groan, letting his lips press against mine before pulling slightly away. I waited until he spoke again, my lips curling more and more with every passing seconds.

"You're not serious?" he just asked, making me laugh, this time.

"How many do you want?"

"Two, maybe three." he admitted before I kissed him again, sucking gently on his upper lip.

"Then two or three we'll have." I breathed out against his mouth as he held me closer.

"And we'll live in London, and keep a house in Cali, how's that?" he proposed in a murmur. "I'll bring you to Las Vegas to get married. We'll have the best honeymoon because I'll make you cum twenty times a day for a whole week."

I started laughing against his mouth and he smirked. "Where are we going for that?"

"Bali?" he suggested.

"Mm, don't tempt me." I joked as he laughed again, deepening the kiss and making me close my eyes. "What's on your mind, Horan?" I asked lower and more seriously.

"Well, how about we practice making those two-three kids now?" he offered, making me chuckle. "I really want to make love to my official girlfriend and future wife."

"Hey, I didn't say yes just yet." I joked as his lips traveled on my jaw and neck.

"But you will yea? You just accepted to be my official girlfriend so it's a good start. You'll be my wife and marry me?"

"If you want to spend your life with me, how can I say no to that?"

"That's what I thought." he just said, giving himself a swing and making me laugh even more as he got on top of me.

I spread my legs a bit as he nibbled on the skin of my neck and I groaned when I felt his hard dick press on my inner thighs. I was tired and still a bit tipsy but the way he whispered, the sound of his voice, the feeling of his body on top of mine... all of this was too good and I felt like I never had enough of him. Even after all this time, I wanted him as much as I used to, even more, probably, and the way he was all over me made me think he felt the same.

"I want to bury my cock so deep inside you right now." he whispered, bringing his mouth back on mine. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you so much, Olivia. You made me so happy today."

I reached for his boxers and pulled them down as much as I could, his words making my heart twist and jump in my chest. I didn't think Niall could love me as much as he seemed to, I didn't know he could want to be with me to the point where he would literally hold my hand and show everyone that we were together in a crowded airport. I had no idea he was waiting for this, I didn't know that it would make him react like that to be my official boyfriend. All of this made sense, of course, but it was just hitting me that Niall really loved me as much as I loved him and that he didn't want to lose me again.

"Please Niall, just do it." I begged him in a murmur, reaching between my legs and pulling my panties aside before grabbing his cock and lining it up.

His hip movement was slow and as he pushed himself inside me, I felt my eyes roll back and a moan escaped my lips. I moved my knees up as he lied on top of me, holding himself on his elbows as he started thrusting in and out of me slowly. It felt like torture but at the same time it was so good I moved my chin up, feeling his lips leave kisses on it.

"I love you, can't believe you're my girlfriend again." he whispered, his lips brushing against my skin.

"I was always yours, Niall. I've always been yours. Since I was 6 years old. I knew I belonged to you." I replied just as low and without thinking. "I was just scared you didn't belong to me"

He pushed himself deeper inside me and it felt so good I let out an other whimper. He remained still, waiting for my eyes to open again and meet his, and I felt one of his hands slip in my hair while the other moved a lock out of my eyes.

"I belong to you." he confessed, making a shiver run across my back. "All this soulmate shit? I believe in it now. I have to."

I bit my bottom lip, making him glance at my mouth before looking back in my eyes.

"I love you. I fucking love you." I had barely finished my sentence that he was pressing his mouth against mine again, this time fucking me harder and faster.

My back arched after a few minutes and I moaned in his mouth this time, right before his thrusts became unsteady and a bit sloppy. The orgasm felt amazing and I gripped his arms as I felt his muscles tighten. I pressed my thighs on each sides of him, pushing myself against him in motion with him as he came. Nothing felt better than that post orgasm feeling with Niall on top of me. His lips found mine and he kissed me slowly but deeply for a while until we both got down of our highs and even a little bit after.

"I'm so happy you followed me here." he admitted with a smile as I tilted my head on the pillow.

"Me too." I licked my lips and raised my eyebrows. "Are you gonna follow me back to Cali in a few days?"

"Nothing will stop me from going with you. Nothing."

He rolled off of me and I pushed the covers to breathe fresh air, just realizing that I needed it. Niall grabbed my hand and I focused back on him as he stared at my fingers, making me try to suppress the smile stuck on my lips.

"Please come to my show tomorrow." he just let out, his fingers brushing gently against mine, exactly where a wedding ring would be. "We're officially together now, so we don't care who sees you or what they see."

My heart skipped a beat and I licked my lips nervously. It would be a good start but it stressed me to think that people would start judging us even more, now that we were official. I knew Niall was not going to start kissing me or anything in public but I still felt nervous.

"Okay." I let out low feeling myself tear up. I swallowed my tears but I could see my boyfriend getting emotional too and I sniffed. "I love you Niall. I don't ever want to be away from you anymore."

He brought one of his hands to my cheek and I felt the warmth of his skin against mine as he moved closer to lean his forehead against mine.

"I'm never leaving again. I promise on my life. I'm here to stay. What we have will never die, okay?"

I nodded quickly and bit my bottom lip as I felt a tear run down my cheek. I could swear he was tearing up too and I pressed my parted lips against his. "Okay."

May 9th, 2018

I hadn't realize how much I had missed watching Niall sing and play. He was always the kid who was singing, dancing, or playing guitar when we were younger, and it always brought a bunch of people around him. He seemed so untouchable, even for me, who was his best friend. Now, with the literal crowds and album selling, it was even more obvious, but a lot less scary. The fact that I knew he loved me definitely helped but watching him do what he's always loved but this time, as a living, was just breathtaking. He was breathtaking.

I chuckled when he winked at me subtly and I rolled my eyes with a smile until I felt a hand on my arm. I jumped slightly and turned again to look at Julia who was smiling widely at me. I thought I knew what she was going to say but instead, she pulled me close into a tight hug. It took me a few seconds to answer it but when I did, she jumped a few times, bringing me with her, and finally pulled away.

"I saw the video!" she said happily, her lips curled into a bit grin.

"The video?"

"Of you two at the airport!"

I felt my cheeks turn a soft shade of red as they burned a bit and cleared my throat, looking away. I knew there were pictures but I was not aware someone was filming. Come to think about it, it was not surprising, after all. I felt two strong arms wrap around my neck from behind and I smiled immediately, recognizing the touch and the perfume. It was crazy how he still affected my moods but I could also see that I influenced his, and that made our relationship so much better.

"Niall!" he let go of me to hug Julia and I smiled, taking a step away. "I'm so happy for you! I knew it would happen! I told you you had to keep hope!"

Niall's eyes found mine and his smile faltered as his embrace around his friend loosened.

"I sort of... confided in Julia." he admitted, licking his lips as mine parted. "I know you wanted me to keep the secret, but I didn't know what to do, and I felt like shit... I needed to talk to someone."

He looked at me with fear in his eyes, as if I was going to turn on my heels and leave, but I just tilted my head on the side while staring at him.

"Hey, I understand. She's one of your closest friends." I pointed out with a shrug before sending him a smile. "I talk to Louis about almost everything." I shrugged again. "Besides, I like her."

Julia smiled more and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to them to hug both of us at the same time. I laughed and after a few seconds, she pulled away and smiled again.

"I'll wait for you guys backstage. We're going to celebrate right?" she asked as Niall and I glanced at each other, a bit unsure. "It's one of my last shows! We have to go grab a drink together!"

"Sure, we'll do that."

She left with a big grin and I turned to Niall who was smiling fondly at me. I frowned, my lips still curled, but I had to admit that the way he was looking at me made something twitch in my stomach.

"Thank you." he whispered, bending down to kiss the top of my head.

"For?"

"For wanting to get to know my friends. I know you get along great with all our childhood friends, and my cousins and all, but I've made great friends while doing this job, and you never really seemed to be interested in befriending them too, well, except for Harry, Louis and Liam.”

I shrugged a shoulder and looked away before looking back at him and raising my nose in a small grimace. "You used to hang out with many celebrities, especially when you were dating Heidi. I don't know, Niall, to me, it's a bit intimidating." I admitted. "I never felt like I fitted with them, or belonged with those famous faces. It's just weird to me."

"I'd love to present them to you. I promise they're great."

I stared at him and after a while, my lips curled again. "Sure, I'd love to meet them." I just gave in and by seeing the smile on his face, I knew it made him happy. "Let's start with Julia. I already know I love her."

Niall laughed and cupped my face, tilting my chin up before reaching for my mouth with his. "And I know I love you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #my fanfics #yam

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longinglook · 4 years

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I’m going to be gone for most of the day so I thought that the best way to use up my last 10 minutes before leaving would be to write a multi paragraph post on what I think about Fighter’s behavior so here we go

(under a read more because this could get very very long)

so. fighter. our confused messy boy we are just starting to understand

i’ve read a lot of tweets/posts/comments of people that don’t understand his behavior or think that his storyline doesn’t make sense which has always left me a bit perplexed because to me everything he does seems justified and coherent to where his mind is at the moment so i’ll try to explain

but first, something about me kfmslkcls

i identify as lesbian but i have struggled with compulsive heterosexuality all my life, i’ve spent years identifying as bi because the scary part for me was not admitting that i liked girls but admitting that i did not like boys past the occasional crushes on fictional boys and let me tell you: a lot of what fighter does/the way he thinks reminds me so much of how i was and here’s a list of things:

1) he seems a lot more at ease with same sex friends, the only times we see him with hwa you can tell that he’s forcing himself to act a certain way, he knows he’s supposed to do boyfriend things like taking her on dates and kissing but he is not comfortable with it, he tries and fails at it. of course part of the reason is because of his father but not only does he seem uniterested in her, there’s always a sense of uneasiness when he’s with her, like he’s scared of actually having to kiss her. he’s fine with the relationship as long as it’s just texting and hanging out (like a friendship would be) but he seems not to want it to become phisical. since he’s a very confused boy he’s probably blaming all of this on his father forcing him into the relationship, instead of knowing right away that he’s not interested in her

2) thinking whatever he has with tutor is just friendship and teasing: i feel like this is such a common experience for most lgbt+ folks, thinking you just have a deep friendship with someone of the same sex, only to later realize it was actually a crush and you had no idea. ex. liking the casual cuddling and touches and looking for more, paying close attention to all the displays of affection, wanting to always be close and being a little jealous of everyone else that they interact with. I feel like a lot of people go through this thinking it’s just a friendship, especially if it’s with someone of the same sex because they are not even considering the option of it being a crush. that’s why fighter keeps saying that they’re only friends and he’s behaving like a close friend would, he just doesn’t let himself consider the option because it would be way too scary and that leads us to point #3

3) being too scared to say what he wants: he does this A LOT. instead of asking for something, which would mean saying it out loud and admitting it, he just acts. words can be so scary (again making this about me, i have id’d as lesbian for over 2 years now and ive come out to a lot of friends but ive never said the word lesbian out loud because it’s just terrifying to me), and fighter seems to only use them after he has acted to justify whatever dumb shit he has done with an excuse. saying something like “i kissed you because i wanted to” would mean admitting he wants to kiss another man (meaning he’s not straight) and that man is fighter (meaning he has feelings for him). it’s much easier for him to go with the flow and do first, explain later. and by explaining i mean lying, even to himself because deep down he knows, of couse he knows what’s going on but acknowledging it would have serious implications on his life.

also the way he reacts to tutor asking him if he likes boys is a big indicator of what's going on with him, it's his way of answering, not his way of avoiding the question. he can't say it out loud so he shows it but then he's scared of the consequences and no homos it. and the choice of replaying the question scene while they're making out shows us that fight is tormented by it, he's scared of other people asking him that as well, now that tutor has noticed it more people could as well and that's why he pulls away.

4) on a similar note, teasing until tutor does something/not wanting to be the one to start it: this is pure fighter behavior, hoping tutor will be the one to start it so he doesn’t have to. i called this gay chicken last week, it’s fighter making everything into a challenge so he can blame it on tutor and say that he was just reacting. we can see how desperate he is for tutor’s attention, how happy he is when he has it and how frustrated he is when he doesn’t. he’s like a child who wants people to pay attention to him but doesn’t know how to ask for it, so they start annoying people. fight knows very well that he could just say hey tutor i’m here, please talk to me but how could he give a realistic reason for it other than because i have a massive crush on you meaning i’m not straight. he knows tutor doesn’t back down from a challenge and he riles him up because he has learned what that will lead them to. it’s like he knows there’s an easier way to get to that, but it’s scary so he just keeps going with his soundproof tesing tacting which so far has worked every time. also in general reacting is a lot easier than acting, again a personal example: if someone asks me if i like girls I’ll say yes right away, but if i have to start the conversation i won’t. (one thing i do a lot is to be like “hey i have something to tell you about myself but you have to guess it”)

5) backtracking/giving mixed signals: again he’s terrified, he knows what he wants but he knows what /wanting it/ implies. sometimes he follows his heart, but then his brain comes back to tell him that, hey, you’re kissing another dude and you’re enjoying it and of course he freaks out and leaves. i would be way more annoyed with him if the show had been portraying tutor as pining and in love, meaning that fighter has been giving him false-ish hopes, but after ep.6 we see that tutor himself still hasn’t admitted to himself that he likes fighter (in bold because i feel like this part is very important and often overlooked) so they are both confused about their feelings.

i don’t think they are actually confused, they know but they are scared which in my opinion is very realistic of how someone behaves when they thought they were straight and they are not. It’s not about being dumb or being slow, it’s about realizing that once you take that step and acknowledge you’re not straight your life changes. idk how many of you are actually not straight (i assume most just because tumblr) but like…… coming out is so stressful being straight is just so much easier you dont have to do shit i wish that were me

6) his father: i feel like we only grazed the surface of fighter’s daddy issues, but he seems to be a very controlling and inflexible man, meaning that he probably wouldn’t be thrilled at the idea of his son dating another man. we don’t know about fight’s past, and maybe he has already had crushes on men and had to repress them. fighter seems to be used to a pretty luxurious lifestyle, he can’t just fuck off and go against his father because he would lose his support.

so it’s not just admitting things to himself, which can be insanely hard on its own especially if you were brought up in a traditional family, it’s also having to deal with the reactions from everyone around you

I KEEP THINKING ABOUT NEW THINGS TO ADD TO THIS POST SORRY anyway i think fighter has already shown multiple times that he does care for tor, it's just in a very shy and lowkey way because he's scared of giving himself away but he does indeed worry about tor (ex. he notices tor is stressed about his test, he tries to help outat his part time job). it also seems that in times of urgency he's more explicit about ex. offering to pay off his debt when tor was being threatened or saying he's his boyfriend when the gross cafe dude was hitting on him

also can we talk about how heartbreaking and soft fighter can be when he lets down his guard and shows his emotional side ex. telling tor nobody has ever taken care of him like that or the way he looks every time tutor pulls away first... this poor boy is touch starved and he craves affection but he can't ask for it yet. he's going to be a real gem once he can be honest with his feelings

for future episodes i think that tutor and fighter are well on their way to realizing their feelings for each other and there's going to be some development soon, but i dont expect fighter to come out to anyone else in the next few episodes because there's a lot of work to be done still. i just hope they dont pull the /i dont like boys i just like you/ trope because i WILL drop this show. so. fast. please don't ruin this character please let him accept his attraction to men fully

in conclusion. i dont blame fighter for anything he has done so far, he’s scared shitless but knows what’s going on, i trust he will soon be brave enough to start being honest with himself and with tutor

man this did NOT take 10 minutes to write and i dont have time to proofread

#fightertutor #zee pruk #why r u #why r u the series #why r u?#why ru the series #why ru #fighter #text #meta

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snowdice · 3 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 58]

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

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Wow I am tired and have a headache, but also I have to get my grading in by tomorrow so...

If I get too miserable, I may stop abruptly and get up early to finish it in the morning.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

#not writing #proofread stories

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damonsbitchx · 4 years

Text

Florida Burn (P1)

Summary: This is kind of written like the beginning of New Moon, but Bella leaves Forks instead of staying and falling in love with Jacob. I don’t know how many parts I’ll make of this! My prompt image was pulled off of Pinterest. I also want you all to know I wrote this listening to “Possibility” by Lykke Li the absolute entire time. It made me cry while I proofread it because I read it out loud.

Characters: Bella, Charlie, Renee briefly on the phone

Word count: 3,385 (oops)

If you would like to be on a tag list send me an ask with the @ you want me to use!!

Prompt(s): The prompt is bolded but slightly altered in the fic.

Charlie helped me lift my damp, aching body up from the couch after everyone left. He weaved his arm around my waist and began to help guide me to the stairs. I glanced at the digital clock on the stove as we trudged past the kitchen, the green numbers read 12:38. I wonder how long I’d been out in the woods.

“You should change your clothes Bell,” Charlie suggested gently once we’d reached my room.

I nodded once, my blank face unchanging, my eyes focusing on nothing in particular around my dark room. I had no idea when I had finally stopped shaking but I was reminded by the shiver that rolled up my spine that forced me to notice how cold I was. I hugged my torso, dragging my feet a few paces forward to stand by the edge of my bed where I’d left my comfy old sweats. I could still feel Charlie’s eyes on me so I turned slowly and forced myself to look up at his face. His expression was furrowed with concern as he stood in my doorway without a sign of moving yet. I pushed my facial features into what I hoped was a smile good enough to convince him I was fine now and he could go to bed.

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” he asked, his voice cracking subtly at the end.

He better not cry. I shook my head once, redirecting my gaze to my sweats so I could grab them. I held them up to him with another one of what I hoped was a smile and began making my way back to the door frame. I walked past him heading to the bathroom and he didn’t say anything else. Once I was past him my face dropped blank again as I slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, flipping on the light so I wouldn’t fall or knock anything over. I heard Charlie’s socked feet pad across the hall to his room and then it was silent. I sighed heavily, glancing up at my reflection in the mirror, grimacing at what a mess I was.

I made haste in turning on the shower so it would warm up faster and also to give my brain less of a chance to process the events from the past 24 hours. I quickly began peeling my damp clothes off my body, shuddering each time more damp skin would hit the cool air raising goosebumps all over. As soon as I’d finished I launched myself into the shower, shocking my cold skin with the boiling hot stream of water. Then, I stood there. I didn’t move for a long time. I just stood under the warm spray of the shower, letting my skin soak it up like it was the Arizona rays of sun I once missed so much. My mind was vacant, my chest felt empty, my body felt heavy. At some point, I decided to sit down before I fell.

I’m not sure how long I was there, but the only thing bringing me back to a conscious level of existence was the feeling of the water beginning to get colder and sting my back. So, I shut it off and shoved myself up into a standing position again. I swiped a towel from under the sink, wrapped myself in it and turned to the cupboard to grab my bag of toiletries. I took extra care in brushing and braiding my hair, applying lotion, washing my face, brushing my teeth. Anything I could do to keep my mind occupied was necessary. Once I’d used nearly every item in that bag, even items I’ve never actually used except maybe once in my life, I dropped my towel and pulled on my sweatpants and T-shirt. Desperate to keep my mind occupied and put off whatever world of hurt was waiting for me, I wadded up my wet towel and clothes from earlier to take downstairs and put in the wash. The clock in the kitchen read 1:32 now. I was almost completely sure it had been longer than that and the disappointment made me frown. I sighed and shoved the clothes into the washer, turned it on, then trudged back up the stairs. I hesitated in my doorway for a moment, looking around my room as if I was searching for something, but I couldn’t think of what it was. Then, I climbed under my covers and positioned myself onto my back to see if I could sleep.

I was afraid that if I laid down everything would come flooding back to me, but it didn’t. I just laid there in the silence, in the dark, and I stared at the ceiling. My mind was more blank than ever, my body felt hollow inside, like just the weight of my skin made it cave in on itself. I felt numb and empty, tired but not enough to sleep. So I simply laid there waiting for the memories to catch up.

They didn’t have a chance before the dim light of the early morning sun began to shine through the wall of trees into my bedroom window that I hadn’t bothered to close. I faintly heard Charlie rustling around, probably getting ready to go fishing like he does every Saturday with Harry Clearwater. I shut my eyes when I heard him coming to peek in at me, pretending to be asleep until I heard the door click shut again. I pulled my eyes open and I half expected to see something new this time, but everything was still the same. It was dark and gloomy outside with a thick covering of clouds stretching over as far as I could see. I continued to lay this way for another indistinguishable amount of time. I listened to the sounds of Charlie moving things around downstairs, open and shut the front door, lock it, and then I heard Harry’s truck roar to life and drive away. I was alone.

I immediately felt a searing pain in my chest as if I’d just used hand sanitizer with a bunch of paper cuts on my hand. The burn worked its way up and stung my eyes. I only remember being so confused as to why I was about to cry. Nothing had changed, my mind was still blank, I hadn’t moved from the same spot, nothing had happened. My arms shot across my torso and squeezed tight as I turned over onto my side and scrunched up, thick sobs now ripping from my body. My body shook with tremors like earthquakes that forced the memories into my mind as I gasped and coughed for air. There was no one to save me now.

My life went on similar to this for a couple months. I was fine when I was around people, but when I was left alone the pool of magma would devour me. Although I eventually got better at managing the pain, some days were just worse than others. Some days my body would burn with anger. Anger at him for leaving me instead of staying and trying to make it work. Anger at myself for being so stupid and clumsy. Anger at Alice for not foreseeing me cutting my finger and preventing it, anger at Charlie for being so calm and accepting of my wallowing. Just red hot anger was all I could feel some days. Other days it was just deep blue and grey with sadness and shame, perhaps even depression. Some days the burn would come from shame for letting this affect me so deeply, despair for myself, despair for hurting him. I blamed myself the most, there were no questions about it. As time went on I could let myself think about more details before the right ones finally knocked me off-kilter again. I would think about my birthday, rake over every tiny little detail and imagine what I could have done, what I should have done, to prevent what happened that night. If I wasn’t so clumsy and stupid maybe they wouldn’t have left me. Maybe he would still want me.

That was the part that burned the wildest in the beginning whenever the thought crossed my mind, that he no longer wanted me. Those words he spoke that night paralyzed me for weeks after. I didn’t go back to school until midway through October when Charlie finally decided he’d had enough of my moping. Even going back to school burned my chest. He was everywhere I looked but I also couldn’t find him anywhere anymore. I would shove his biology chair deep under the table and sit right in the middle, but I could still feel the ghost of his gaze on me. During lunch, I’d sit at our lunch table by myself, but I never ate. Some part of me wanted to stay close to his memory, but the other parts of me wanted to get as far away as possible. I parked in their spot every time I’d come to school and after a while, my friends stopped trying to coax me back out of the hole I’d dug for myself because I brushed them off every time they tried. I knew they talked about me, sometimes I would hear them during lunch when they thought I couldn’t. Angela was always sympathetic and tried to defend my bubble I locked myself in when Jessica and Lauren would spit out snarky remarks about my moping. I missed her the most, but I was no good for her, she deserved a better friend than me. I wished I could tell her thank you for sticking up for me even after I’ve been such a bad friend to her.

Although I was pretty much useless at school, I still had to convince Charlie that I was okay. So, after a while when my thoughts didn’t hurt as much I found that I could at least go through the motions. I started hanging out downstairs with Charlie more and actually doing my homework. On weekends when he was gone during the day I would spend my time in my bed or sitting by my window and sometimes I’d read. On weekdays I would go to school like normal and I always made sure dinner was on the table when Charlie got home. My homework was always finished before I went to bed every night and I did it downstairs in the living room while Charlie watched whatever game was on TV. Those were the only things I found that I could use to occupy my mind with and, even then, small fragments of memories still found a way in through the cracks. I tried my best not to let myself fall asleep most nights because every time I did I would wake up screaming from my nightmare, but it wasn’t just a nightmare- not anymore.

It always started out the same. It was me laying in my bed at night like usual and he’d be there again, holding me. For a while, I would feel okay. He would press his cold lips to mine and smile, reassuring me everything was going to be better now, that he couldn’t stay away from me anymore. He’d tell me he really did want me, in fact, he couldn’t live without me any longer much like I seemed to fail at living my life without him. I dreamed that my life went back to normal because it was all I wanted. Only then, I’d be back in that forest again and he would look at me and scream that he doesn't want me, that he never wanted me. Then, he would retreat deep into the forest and I would sprint after him screaming his name.

“Edward!” I shrieked.

I’d be sprinting and gasping for the cold night air that would burn my lungs. The forest would be moving by me at an agonizingly slow pace, so I’d push harder and try to run faster to catch up to him.

“Please! Don’t leave me again,” I would sob.

And then just like that night, in my dream I would trip and plant myself into the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Once I hit the ground my body would get heavy, like someone tied an anchor to each of my limbs and my waist, I couldn’t get up. The forest would be spinning and I would sob and sob, screaming his name and begging for him to not leave me until my eyes snapped open to the sensation of Charlie’s warm hand on my cheek. When I was yanked back into consciousness the screaming didn’t stop until I would realize the screaming in my dream was being unintentionally mirrored by my own voice. Charlie’s face was riddled with agony and concern for me every time, I could see that although I could barely make out his features as my eyes adjusted to my dark surroundings. He’d cradle my face in his hand as I tried to catch my breath through my gasping sobs.

“It’s okay Bella, you’re safe,” he’d say softly, wiping tears from my cheeks with his thumb.

This nightmare, this pain, was the only evidence I had left of his existence. I could tell Charlie didn’t understand why I couldn’t get past this. I didn’t even understand it myself. I didn’t understand how I’d come this far from the person I used to be. I liked who I used to be, I missed the sun on my skin. I missed my mom and Phil. I missed dry sandy beaches and wearing shorts and tank tops. Above all, I missed not being in pain and I missed myself.

So, one Saturday morning I caught my dad before he went out fishing, down in the kitchen.

“Hey, dad?” I began, lifting my eyes from the ground to meet his.

“What’s up, honey?” he asked as he spun around to face me from across the kitchen.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” I breathed, playing with my own fingers but watching his expression warily. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched back.

I knew this would crush him a little. He gazed at me skeptically but sunk into his chair at the dining table.

“Okay,” he spoke finally, peering up at me evidently intrigued.

“Well…” I began quietly, moving towards my chair at the table. “I was thinking about, um, moving back to Florida with mom and Phil.”

He looked slightly shocked, although he took a minute to process my words. Then, his features softened. “I think that’s a great idea, Bells,” he spoke finally, smiling at me in relief.

He swiftly closed the gap between us and threw his arms around me, hugging me firmly to his chest with a deep sigh of contentment and relief. It took me by surprise at first, but then I wound my arms around his waist and hugged him back. I felt a twinge of guilt in my stomach, but he seemed happy enough. When he finally let go after Harry cleared his throat loudly he looked at me and smiled again.

“I love you, Bells,” he gushed.

“I love you too, Dad,” I responded with a small smile. Smiling started to hurt less after a while too. He squeezed both my shoulders with his hands and spun around to pick up all his fishing gear. “I’ll help you book a plane ticket when I get home tonight!” he called as they ran out the door.

Then, just like that, I was all alone again. I started heading back up to my room to start packing my stuff before I felt too much of the loneliness seep back into the hole in my chest. Packing would be a perfect thing to keep me distracted for the weekend. I decided to start cleaning my desk first, although it was not very cluttered. I can’t remember the last time I’d sat there and done anything. I tried to do my homework downstairs around Charlie so that he could see I was okay, but also to avoid what happened to me when I was left alone. I worked on putting everything neatly in a box I’d kept from when I moved in here and decided to call Renee while I was cleaning to tell her the good news. I knew she’d been worried about me, sometimes I would hear Charlie on the phone with her while I was doing the dishes or my homework and I could only imagine what kind of state she thought I was in. Charlie thought he was being quiet enough but I’d had practice listening for talking that you wouldn’t normally have to listen for.

“Hi Bella, honey,” she greeted me in her bright Renee voice.

“Hey mom, what are you doing?” I tried keeping my tone casual and upbeat to show her I was okay.

“Oh, I’m just painting, honey, what’s up? How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, mom, I just wanted to call because I miss you and I have something to tell you.”

“Okay…” she sounded worried, her full attention turned to me. “What is it?”

“Um, well, I talked to dad this morning and... I decided I’m coming home.”

I heard a loud gasp and high pitched squeal come from the phone that was sitting on my desk a few feet away from me. I was glad I didn’t have it by my ear or I’d be half deaf by now. I huffed a small laugh at her reaction, carefully arranging more objects into the box from off my dresser now.

“Awww Bella, Phil and I are so happy you’re coming home!” she wailed, probably now crying.

“Yeah, mom, I am too,” I reassured her. “Charl- er, Dad said he’d help me buy a plane ticket when he gets home from fishing tonight.”

“We’ll go get your room set up right now! This is going to be so much fun, we’ll be a family again!” she squealed, definitely crying this time. I chuckled softly to myself.

“I love you, mom.”

I heard ruffling from the phone and then a crash and she was gone. Must’ve dropped her phone and hung up trying to grab it. That was okay, I told myself. Suddenly the whole left side of my body began to feel hot and the sun was in my eye, peeking out from the clouds and that was okay. I moved my desk chair in front of my window and sat in it, closing my eyes and soaking up the hot rays of my friend, the sun, whom I had missed so much since moving to Forks. I was comforted by the heat laying over my skin like a blanket. Then, I opened my eyes when a glare flashed over my eyelids that caught my attention. I looked around to see what it was, only to realize that if I moved a certain way the screen on my cell phone would reflect light into my eyes. “It reminds me of-” I began to think, but I stopped myself short to hug my torso at the return of the searing burn around the edges of the hole in my chest before I could even finish the thought. This burn was not comforting, this burn pulsed through my veins like venom, biting each cell it touched up and down my arms and legs, then it started stinging my eyes. I tried to focus on deep breaths but my lungs constricted each time I tried, forcing the air back out faster each time. I sat frozen in that chair, swallowed up by the intense burning pain shooting through my veins while the sun began disappearing behind the clouds.

What if moving to Florida was a mistake? What if I leave and he comes back someday looking for me? What if Florida isn’t what I thought it would be? What if the nightmares don’t stop? My head was spinning with doubt, but I wasn’t going to let myself be talked out of leaving. I needed to get out of Forks if I had any hope of getting myself back.

Taglist: No one because this is my first real Twilight fic lol

#New moon #my fic #twilight saga #twilight series #twilight #twilight imagine #bella swan #bella #charlie swan #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #writing #I cried proof reading this

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Kismet {12}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: How are you guys liking the pacing of this story? I think this might be my slowest burn of all. 😬😬

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

When one thinks of a vacation, you think of beaches, sand, salty ocean water that you can see right through, a blazing sun that is a joy to be burned by, tropical drinks, lounging by the pool in a hammock with an endless supply of bathing suits. When one thinks of the quintessential French vacation, you could think of waking up the smell of flowers from the countryside and the ocean salt, the warm caress of the sun as you sip your French coffee, lounging on the beaches, touring the countryside by day, feasting on the best authentic French cuisine, sipping the best of wine country offered all the while soaking up culture and relaxation. In other words, live like the French.

Your vacation, though it started awkwardly, didn’t remain that way for too long. You and Henry had made it a mission to take relaxation and freedom to the max and, by doing so, you had created somewhat of a routine. Usually, either you or Henry would make breakfast and coffee then have it outside. After breakfast, you’d both lounge by the pool for an hour or two. That was before you found out he liked to work out first thing in the morning. Though you weren’t much for working out, you vowed to do it with him. which led to you having your coffee and then out for a run through the fields. He often went four miles out then four miles back, but when he realized you were not a runner, he cut it down to two and two. Even that was torture for you.

Then once you’d returned and showered, whoever came out first would make a simple breakfast that you’d have out back and then to the pool. After you’d take a drive, often going miles and miles checking out neighboring towns seeing sights. On each day, Henry always had something planned. One day it was a tour of a vineyard where you learned all about the winemaking process, helped harvest grapes, and even did the traditional squishing grapes with your feet. That was the day Henry had the brilliant idea to play up your ticklishness, which led to you falling in the barrel staining your white shorts ensemble red. He laughed his ass off to that. By the time you left the vineyard, both of your outfits were ruined, but you had plenty of pictures and a crate of the wine you’d made.

Another day it was sailing around the Mediterranean in a boat that Henry manned himself. You couldn’t help but watch in awe as he steered it like a pro and taught you the proper terms for things on the boat. When he’d found a good spot to drop anchor close to some rocks, you lounged on the hull soaking up the sun, then taking a dunk in the ocean when the heat became too much where you snorkeled around the reef. On a particular day, he took out a speedboat to St. Tropez for shopping and spa treatments that really had your entire body feeling like jello.

While he liked to spoil you with luxurious options, he also liked the rugged things too. He taught you how to fish and took you on multiple nature walks. While you enjoyed nature, you realized you didn’t like it as much as he did. According to him, he would choose to be out in nature as often as he possibly could. You were slowly beginning to enjoy it as much as he did. A few times, you took him to a club where you saw firsthand that he was a real party boy in another life. You liked the club nights because it showed you a whole other side of him. The side that was carefree, able to cut loose and not take himself seriously. It was a side you made a silent vow to bring out as often as you could.

To round out the experience, he did as the French and took advantage of France’s natural romance. There were plenty of romantic dinners at romantic restaurants that overlooked the ocean or the cliffs or the city lights and even a few at romantic vineyards with the view of the rolling hills and a sunset. The romance was not something hard to find, and it wasn’t always in going out. You spent plenty of nights in the villa lounging together with candlelight in the room and a gentle breeze wafting through the opened doors while watching something on tv together. While it was awkward before, you were becoming more and more comfortable around him.

This comfort also helped you feel closer to him and though you teased each other often, said sly things to one another, and even flirted shamelessly, nothing else of significance had happened. Henry didn’t make any moves to kiss you or cuddle or even hug you, really. The most he’d done was hold your hand at the most sporadic moments, for the shortest amount of time. It made no sense, and it drove you crazy because you could feel the attraction between you in everything you did. You could sense the desire in the air was strong, but everything remained lukewarm.

Though your comfort level rose, your insomnia never subsided. When Henry had gone to bed, you often remained up just writing music, journaling, or making things with the pictures you’d taken throughout the day. Your sleepless or low sleep nights gave you the chance to either reformulate your plan or think about your progress. A lot of times, thinking about the progress had you thinking about him, and if you did that, it was only a matter of time before your mind drifted to your want for him.

It was funny to you that before him, you could push affection, intimacy, and sex to the side and act like they were not even actual things, and it never bothered you or had any effect. Since Henry, it was damn near impossible. You thought about his touch at every turn, about his lips more times than you could count, and imagined him between your thighs at least once every other day.

One night it had gotten so bad from remembering him swimming in the pool in slow motion. Everything he did was in slow-mo like he was posing for some men’s porn magazine. That was the night you had to please yourself to thoughts of his wet lips, memories of his voice, and body as it moved through the water and muscles as he hoisted himself up out of the water with it dripping off of every inch of him. that night, it was the quickest you’d ever come. You wondered if he was struggling the way you were, but throughout the days, you saw no evidence he was, and that made you more insecure than you’d ever felt in your life.

~~~~~~~~~

-Nine Days Later-

The night was young—well, young for you. While Henry slept, you found yourself in the back yard with the breeze brushing against your bare skin. The glow of the moon beamed down on you, bathing you in its pearlescent illuminance, making you feel like a goddess of the night. It could have been the moon, the fact you were naked under it, or the 2nd bottle of wine you were on. It didn’t matter what it was; you felt good. The wine made your thoughts flow more freely, and where your thoughts went, your pen in your notebook mapped. You got your best writing done at three in the morning when you were naked and feeling wine-nice.

With your pen hooked on your bottom lip, you looked over the new lyrics you’d written for a song that Henry had inspired. The notebook was filled with at least ten more from the same muse. This song was the night’s second one. The first centered around your anxious thoughts about making the first move and how to do it in a way with little to no risk, and your worries of being in the friend zone the second was drastically different. This one focused on you admitting your attraction, the possibility you were falling for him, and your fear of him making you feel out of control. It was raw and real, the realest you’d been in a long time when it came to your feelings.

The words across the page were sensual and painted a clear picture of arousal and desire. As you hummed to yourself the way you imagined it flowing, you began replacing your hums with words. You quickly got lost in your process and zoomed through putting everything down on paper. Once your brain sparked off, it never stopped until it finished the mission.

“Aliya?”

You turned to the sound of Henry’s voice, forgetting your state of undress. Almost immediately, you gasped and grabbed the blanket holding it to your breasts.

“Shit.”

Henry was already turned away, his back facing you.

“Um--.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. God, I—shit.”

Henry snorted then slowly released a breath in a loud huff.

You rearranged the blanket then spoke, “You can turn around.”

Slowly and cautiously, Henry turned to you again. With your lips pressed together, you gave him your best apologetic face.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were asleep. I didn’t think you’d come out here,” you explained.

Again, Henry snorted then chuckled to himself as he nodded his head. You were so embarrassed that you covered your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time.

“No need for sorries,” Henry began trying not to make eye contact. “It’s um—it’s okay.”

The awkwardness had returned.

“I didn’t see anything. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t believe him one bit but pushed any remaining awkwardness deep down and fought through it.

“Don’t you sleep at all?”

“Not really. Remember, insomniac.”

“I know you said that, but usually insomniacs can manage something,” Henry said.

“Um, well, since I was diagnosed, I can on occasion get three or four hours tops.

“Wow. We’ve been sharing this house for a little over a week, and I didn’t know that much.”

You smiled and took another sip from your glass. “You’re off the hook, you actually sleep, and it’s great.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was maybe eighteen,” you explained.

“So what do you do when you’re not sleeping?”

After finishing your glass, you moaned and leaned back in your chair. “Walk around, find a good spot to sit, write, sometimes go for a drive, online shop, work. Usually, it is mainly work,” you confessed.

Henry gave you a stern daddyish look. “Are you working now?”

You bit your bottom lip and scrunched your face. “Guilty but only sort of. I’m writing music. That’s not work for me. For me, it’s a component for my sanity.”

Henry nodded. “So you sit up all night naked writing music?”

The way he put it had you laughing out loud.

“Wow, pretty much. Fuck, when you sum it up like that, you make me sound like an insomniac exhibitionist.”

You laughed together for a few short moments. “Can’t they prescribe something?”

“They have, quite a few things actually. When I was eighteenish, I was on several sleeping pills. I was the guinea pig, and I must have tested at least twenty brands and formulas, but none of them seemed to work well with me. Of course, they had to monitor my intake to make sure I didn’t become addicted, but after a few years, I said, forget it let’s not try anything anymore. I just stopped taking the pills and sucked it up,” you clarified.

Henry looked impressed. “So you function on three hours of sleep?”

“Pretty much.”

He whistled then bowed his head. “Wow.”

“it’s not bad. Honestly, it might be a blessing in disguise. I get so much work done they wouldn’t believe.”

“You literally make money while others sleep,” Henry joked.

You softly snickered and nodded.

“Do they know why it started?”

He was asking all the right questions, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah, we know.” You really didn’t want to say anything else, and you had a mini internal fight. Groaning, you continued. “Trauma.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you rearranged your things on the table and picked off invisible lint off the blanket, all in an effort to not look at him. Though you were physically naked, you felt emotionally so as well. Taking a risk, you glanced at him and held his gaze. He was unreadable.

“Here,” Henry said, holding out a spoon to you.

“A spoon? What’s this for?”

Henry smiled and took a step toward you. “Close your eyes.”

You scoffed and wrinkled your nose before you closed your eyes and waited. You didn’t hear anything and wondered what he was doing.

“Uh—hello? Henry, are you there?”

The sound of Henry clearing his throat told you he was in a different location that was somewhat closer.

“I’m here. Open.”

When you did, you looked around expecting something but not sure just what. When your eyes landed on the ice cream before you, you smiled.

“For your massive sweet tooth.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. He’d learned a few things about that sweet tooth over the last week. This was him being cute about it.

“This Is my favorite flavor and brand. You don’t play, huh.”

“Of course not. I pay attention.”

“Thank you.”

Henry nodded, then pulled another spoon from behind him. “Cheers?”

You knocked your spoon against his and said the same thing. Henry sat beside you while you opened the ice cream, then both of you dug in. the first spoonful had you moaning so loud it echoed around you.

“That good?”

“Mmmm, so good, better than sex,” you joked.

“Then I am sorry, Ms. Taylor, you are having sex with all the wrong ones.”

The spoon paused at your lips as you quirked your eyebrow at him. Henry wasn’t backing down, though. He held your gaze almost like he was challenging you. Damn, you thought before you looked away first.

“So you write all your own songs?”

Nodding, you put another spoonful of ice-cream in your mouth. “All by myself.”

“Impressive. I know artists try, but not a lot do it alone. There will usually be a few co-writers,” Henry added.

You were a little surprised he knew that. “You’re right. More and more try to get on it for the added profits that being a writer brings in. for me, I do it for far more selfish reasons.”

Henry quirked his brow, silently asking you why.

“I need an outlet, something to get everything in my head out. I’m up for twenty to twenty-one hours a day, and I have a lot going on in there. So, I need to be able to get that out to start fresh the next do, that means---I write.”

The way Henry’s eyes rested on you made you feel like he had so much to say, but he was holding back with doing so.

“It’s good to have an outlet.”

“What’s yours?”

His goofy smile made a return, and you couldn't help but smile back.

“Don’t judge me, okay, but it’s video games.”

You smiled and raised your hands. “No judgment here, ever.”

“I like video games, Warcraft, Witcher, Call Of Duty, HALO. Anything bloody, I’m there for it. I also use exercise a lot. I have to work out, have to.”

“Have to?”

Henry took another spoonful of ice cream and sighed out. He looked like he was thinking about something, and you gave him the time needed.

“Yeah, when I was a kid, I was heavy--,” he began sighing. “I was a fat kid, and it meant I got teased and bullied a lot. My nickname was fat, Cavill.”

“Oh no, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah, plus I was at private school. Let’s just say—it was hard, really hard. I had some dark times, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stick with me some even to this day.”

You bit your bottom lip, reached your hand out, and rested it on his knee. Your heart sank thinking about what he’d gone through. You knew how painful words could be, especially as a child. “I’m sorry. Kids can be such assholes.”

Henry snorted and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “They sure can.”

“Plus, I could tell working out is a joy for you. I’m not blind, and neither is the female population of the world and some of the male.”

Henry’s laugh was unexpected but welcomed all the same. You liked his laugh, and the more you heard it, the more it was becoming one of your favorite sounds.

“Seriously though, I’m sorry you went through that. I know it couldn’t have been easy to work through.”

He looked down at your hand that was still on his knee and nodded before he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned you’re close with your grandmother?”

Taking your hand back, you rearranged the blanket again and nodded. “I did. Yeah. She’s my mother’s mother, and she is—she’s my world.” With a soft smile on your lips, you quickly went through your fondest memories with her.

“I don’t think it’s healthy to depend on her as much as I do, but--.” You shrugged. “She helps me with so much, like being forgiving, being more open, being a better person in general. She gets me and doesn’t judge me or make me feel like something is wrong with me. In her eyes, I’m—Corrin, my middle name, and it’s great. All the pressure I constantly carry around is gone.”

Talking about how much your gramaw meant to you made you emotional, and the sting of tears in your eyes told you just how emotional you’d gotten.

“That’s great to have at least one person in your life that can do that for you. you’re lucky.”

“Yes, ha, she’s—uh, she’s the reason I’m here,” you confessed. Henry looked very interested to know what you meant.

“How so?”

“She uh, she just reminded me of a few things and pointed some other things out to me,” you said, giving him the CliffsNotes version. You could tell it wasn’t going to cut it, though, so you continued. “She pretty much made me think from a different perspective, the one that I was desperately trying to ignore.”

Henry still looked interested, but he nodded. “I have to thank her because I’m glad she changed your mind.”

You studied him for a little while as you put another spoonful into your mouth. “Are you?”

Henry didn’t look away or give way to any emotion on his face. He just nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you’re here.”

You didn’t see any indication that he was lying or stretching the truth. You did notice that the pull between you was still there. Henry was the first to look away this time, and the two of you continued to share the half-gallon container of ice cream while chatting. He told you more about his private school days and painted a clearer image of what he was like as a boy, and the image you got was absolute adorableness and tenacity.

By the time you both walked back inside, two hours had passed, and the beginning of the sunrise was peeking out behind the mountains. You stood in the long hall that separated your room from his clutching the sheet wrapped around you and your notebook.

“So, in the morning—or a few hours we’ll catch a flight out,” Henry confirmed.

“Still won’t tell me where to?”

Henry smiled, rubbed the back of his neck, and shook his head. “You don’t like surprises, do you? This is the fifth time you’re trying to pry it out of me.”

You pinched your lips then groaned. “No, no. It’s not that I don’t like surprises. I love surprises—well, good ones. I just like to know every detail. I like--.”

“Being in control,” Henry finished, hitting the nail right on the head. You knew it was the loss of control that was making you antsy.

You closed your eyes and slowly breathed out.

“Yes. I guess I might have a control problem.”

Henry looked very amused. “Might?”

The two of you laughed together, and you couldn’t believe the call out.

“Shut up.”

“It’s okay. I get it. I like control too, a whole lot, and I don’t usually like when control is taken from me, but I’ve gotten better with it. Now, I won’t die if my control is taken. Then—it felt like it.”

You nodded at yet another thing you had in common. It was becoming more than you could count on your fingers.

“Good for you, but I—I might die.”

Henry laughed again, this time not with you, at you.

“I’m going to make you a promise. By the end of this vacation, you will be better at giving me control,” Henry said, his voice so deep and commanding that your spine tingled. When the tingling traveled around to your gut and moved downward, you clutched the sheet tighter.

“Oh, will I?”

He smirked; it was a cocky one. “Yes, you will. I don’t break promises. Never have.”

Your eyes locked, and that tingling intensified, making your lady parts beg for some attention. He was downright captivating, and it was so hard staying on your side of the hall.

“All you have to know is that I won’t abuse my control. You can trust that. You can trust me.”

You almost made the yikes face hearing the T-word. You knew he remembered you saying that trust was a tricky thing for you, and you also knew this was probably a test. You were in between a rock and a hard place. After sighing out, you spoke.

“Okay.”

“But, you do have to say these five words, though,” Henry said with a smirk.

“What?”

“I—relinquish—control—to—you.”

With every word, his voice got deeper and deeper, his eyes more and more focused on you. It was so easy to get lost in them, and he must have known it.

“Uh—no. I can’t say that.”

“Sure you can. I know it’s not easy, but I promise you will not regret it.”

Your nose flared, heart raced, mouth went dry, all points of your anxiety. You hated feeling backed in a corner, and you hated giving away your control even more.

“Will you relinquish control to me?”

With a grin, he spoke, “I will.”

“When?”

“One day,” Henry said, that grin still on his face.

Of course he’d say that you thought. “How about, I will try,” you appeased.

“Nope. Not good enough. I want it all, Aliya.”

You groaned and ruffled your curls, still clutching the sheet with one hand. He was not going to let up.

“God, Henry.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited. He didn’t even look pressed like he was worried you’d say no. He looked confident, commanding, and in complete control, and it called to you. There had never been any other man who you’d ever thought about giving control to. None of them felt like him. He felt different.

“I,” Henry perked up but kept his eyes firmly on yours. another thing you loved about him. “Relinquish—control,” you paused again, feeling the full weight of the words you were going to release. You weren’t just saying that you were giving him control to make the decisions. You were giving him control, period. That was when the panic picked up. “Control to,” you rolled your eyes then hissed. “You.”

The silence stretched, but the longer it went on, the less anxious you felt. Yeah, there was some residual panic lingering, but the look in his eyes only comforted you.

“Thank you. I know how hard that was for you,” Henry softly said.

You looked down and took a shaky breath. “You have no idea.” When you looked back at him, he was still staring at you. “Okay. Well, good night, Henry.”

“Good night, Aliya.”

A visible shiver ran through you, but you ignored it and turned around to walk to your bedroom door. After a few steps, you stopped and smiled as an idea formed. Instead of walking forward, you turned around and walked back to him. Once close enough, you tiptoed, threaded your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, then pulled his head down to yours. It was then you pressed your lips to his.

From the second your lips touched, it felt like you’d been standing out in the rain and gotten hit but a lightning bolt. Your moan was loud, and once it slipped out, Henry grabbed you, pulled you flush against him, and held you there. The hand on your hip squeezed while his right hand sneaked around your back to press his palm against your tailbone. That was when you realized you wanted more—a lot more. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, then nibbled, sinking your nails into his curls. You were second away from dropping the sheet, so you pulled back, grasping to the fraying threads of your self-control. Henry’s eyes were still closed, giving you a few extra seconds to admire his beauty. He still had the same effect as the first time he’d kissed you.

“Good night, Henry,” you said again, pecking his lips once more before walking away again.

Though you’d given relinquished control, you just took a little of it back. It felt good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black ofc #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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kookscrescent · 5 years

Text

Aconite (pt.1)┊knj

❖ Pairing: Namjoon x f reader ❖ A bad summary: “Oh great! You will have to spend time with mister sour face over there during your down time as well.” ❖ Genre: angst, fluff, marriage!au ❖ Warnings: none in this chapter ❖ Word count: 2.656 ❖ Parts: 2/??

⇥ Masterlist ⇥ Aconite Masterlist NB! This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

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The silence in the room is almost unbearable. Roughly, thirty minutes have passed since you arrived, and during those Namjoon has managed not speak a single word to you, only greeting you with a short and curt bow when you got here, and you don’t even think he has looked at you for longer than a few seconds.

Seriously, what is up that man’s ass? None of this is your doing! You are both here, meaning that you have both agreed to this arrangement and the terms of the contract, so the least he could do is be somewhat polite and not act like a total asshole. You are minutes away from being fake engaged for god’s sake!

You have been working your way through the stack of legal documents – or contracts, if you will – in front of you, the pen in your hand scribbling your signature on the underlined parts. You have already read every page of it twice before coming here, and you even sent it over to your lawyer for him to proofread everything beforehand.

Moving the pen across the white paper for the last time, you close the contract neatly and place the pen on top.

“All done.” You announce with a sigh of relief, your hand aching slightly from holding it so long.

Looking next to you, Namjoon has already finished and is now occupying himself with his phone, but he looks up briefly when you speak. You look away, you don’t want to waste your energy trying to be nice to him at the moment. There are still a lot of details that needs to be gone over, so if he wants to sulk then by all means he can go ahead, but you are not going to entertain his mood.

Haeun comes over, taking both you and Namjoon’s fully signed contracts before handing them over to Bang Si-Hyuk. He takes them gladly, not looking at them he passes them to one of the HR managers behind him.

“Okay,” Chinhae, the leading director of this whole affair, claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. Even Namjoon puts down his phone for once to pay attention. “You have now both read, understood and signed the contract, correct?” He asks you both.

“Yes,” you answer in unison.

“Perfect! But I would like to just go over the basics one more time so that everyone is clear and on the same page of what is going to happen in the months leading forward.”

The majority of the questions you had leading into to this have already been answered by reading the contract, but you like that everyone is very detailed orientated just like yourself. Not a corner is left untouched in this.

“As of, well right now actually, you, ____ and you, Namjoon, are engaged,” a round of applause goes around the room and you look awkwardly at Namjoon, deciding to shoot him a polite smile, but he still has the same sour mine on as the last time you looked at him. You roll your eyes and focus back on Chinhae. So much for wanting to be civil. “so, let us start with just the basics. You are both clear on why this is happening, so we won’t touch too much on that anymore. As stated in the contract, the duration of the first part of the engagement is six months. During these months we will schedule a few quick meetings when it is possible. These meetings will be spent going over the progress.”

He turns the page of the notebook in front of him, carefully taking his time before he starts talking again. “During the six months we will either call for meetings if we feel like it is needed, but you can also call for a meeting if there is anything you feel like we should go over.” He makes a gesture towards Haeun and Namjoon’s manager Sejin. “Haeun and Sejin have been appointed as your direct managers for this because of your familiarity with them. So any minor problems or issues gets directed towards them like it would in any normal situation. Are you both following so far?”

“Yes,” You say.

And for the first time, Namjoon opens his mouth to say more than a three letter word, his tone sounding almost pleasant. “Yes, but I’m just more curious as to know what is going to happen when the meeting finishes.”

“Of course,” Chinhae says flipping another page. “As you already know from reading the contract, your living situation will change slightly from this day forward. You are both living separately right now, and of course Namjoon you are living with the rest of your members, they have of course already been informed of all this,” he pauses and Namjoon nods in confirmation. “We have already acquired an apartment for you both to stay at, and because you are both busy people, it has been decided that all the days where you are both in Seoul, you will stay together at the apartment. That way you have a chance to get to know each other a little better outside of the official outings and meetings.”

Oh great! You will have to spend time with mister sour face over there during your down time as well. “Are we going to have access to each other’s schedule then?” You ask because that was not mentioned in the contract.

Chinhae looks to Bang Si-hyuk and he nods. “We can make that happen.”

“Okay, because I think that will make it somewhat easier to navigate then.”

“Sure. Namjoon do you have any more questions?”

“One,” He says sitting up straighter in the chair. “I know that the contract stated that we will be in the public eye together, but it didn’t really go into detail. So, what exactly is expected of us regarding to that?”

You have to admit that you are a little amazed right now. In the last few minutes, Namjoon has spoken more than he has in the two weeks you have been acquaintances. And it feels like he is starting to warm up a little bit.

“Later today, at exactly four o’clock, we will release the press statement of your engagement,” someone behind him hands him two files and he hands them over to you and Namjoon. You have each gotten two files. On one its reads ‘Official Press Statement’ and on the other one does not have a title. “Here is a copy of the official statement that will be released. We have fabricated a timeframe of how long you would have been dating secretly had this all been real.”

Huh?

You flip open the statement file. “Kim Namjoon of BTS and ____ _______ are officially engaged. The couple, both being signed under Big Hit Entertainment, have been fond of each other since early February of 2019. They both agreed upon keeping their romance under wraps for the sake of their own privacy and getting to know each other on a deeper level, but they have now decided to take their relationship a step further and is set to marry late next year.”

Wow! This all makes it seems so legit and real, when in reality none of this is real or genuine. It is all a PR stunt, but had you been on the other side of this, reading this as a fan of either of you, you would have thought it was real. But that is also the whole point you guess.

“So we would have been dating for about 10 months.” You confirm.

“Yes,” Chinhae replies. “The other file is just a loose guide of what we need from you guys in the public eye.”

You flip to the other file, seeing Namjoon doing the same thing out of the corner of your eye. Quickly, you scan the first few lines. Public appearances, speaking fondly about the relationship/each other, hand holding, dates, kissing, social media posts.

You gulp as you read the word kissing. You really do not want to put your lips on someone so spiteful as Namjoon, but you already signed the contract and you guess a small chaste peck won’t do you any harm.

Or at least not a lot of harm.

Flipping a page again, a timetable comes into view. At the top is tomorrows date and next to it is a scheduled outing. Yours and Namjoon’s first appearance as an engaged couple in the public eye.

“I have a recording session at the studio tomorrow.” Namjoon comments upon seeing the timetable.

“They know,” you are surprised to hear Sejin speaking for the first time. His voice is much deeper than you would have thought, and he speaks in a very calm and collect way. “Your session is early in the morning at 10 am and your date isn’t scheduled until 4 or 5 pm.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you cut in. “4 or 5 pm?”

“Yes, for now the time is put loosely depending on when Namjoon finishes tomorrow. Could be earlier than 4 but no later than 5.” Sejin explains. “Buy you will be meeting here before the date, and Namjoon, because of his scheduled session, will already be here, so there shouldn’t be too many delays.”

You really want to make a comment about how you don’t want to live your daily life around his schedule and how he should just show up on time, but you know how recording sessions work, how stressful they can be at times and how much work and how many hours that gets put into it. Also, you decide to be the bigger person in this case, smiling and nodding an understanding okay.

From the side, Haeun taps Chinhae and he leans towards her. She whispers something in his ear that no one else is able to hear, but you can see the smile she spots clear as day.

“Oh right!” Chinhae exclaims immediately after. “I almost forgot!” He scoots away from the table, grabbing his briefcase from the floor and begins digging in it. He pulls out a small square box in black velvet and glides it across the table till it stops in front of you.

“Your engagement ring!” He says as if you need any clarification as to what is inside the small box.

Pulling it towards you, you silently open the lid.

Holy shit! You nearly curse out loud seeing the ring inside. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze on you, his eyes watching your reaction closely.

Inside the box sits the most beautiful silver ring you have probably ever seen in your entire life. No exaggeration! What immediately catches your attention is the big cushion cut diamond in the middle of the ring, being surrounded by a halo of smaller round cut diamonds, framing the bigger it in the most beautiful and vintage looking way. Cascading around the entire band of the ring is even more diamonds and when the light catches it in just the right way, it sparkles in the most breathtaking way.

You are overwhelmed with the amount of diamonds that are on this ring and you are almost afraid to take it out of the box and put it on. What if one of the diamonds falls out or gets lost? Now, you are not sure of the price of this thing or the general cost of an engagement ring, but you would bet your left arm on it not being on the cheap side of the scale.

Holy shit! Whoever picked out this ring is a winner at life!

“It’s… It’s beautiful! Wow…” You are speechless.

You didn’t grow up with a lot of money and having nice things – having expensive things – like this wasn’t ever something you thought of or wanted. And granted, the life you have been lucky enough to be blessed with now, could easily provide you with such things, it has just never been of that much importance. But wow!

“Put it on!” Haeun eagerly urges you from the other side of the table. Her eyes are twinkling like Christmas lights, focusing solely on the ring.

“I’m almost afraid to put it on. I’m afraid to break it.” You joke and gently pry it out of its place.

“It can be replaced if so.” Bang Si-hyuk says making you stop and look at him. He only nods towards your hand with a genuine smile urging you to continue.

Sliding the ring down your finger, you admire your hand. You never thought you would be wearing an engagement ring at the mere age of 23, but life works in strange and mysterious ways. The ring fits like a glove, hugging your finger perfectly almost like it was custom made just for you.

It is perfect and your right hand now pales in comparison.

“It’s beautiful,” you repeat your previous words. You don’t feel like there are any words good enough to really describe just how beautiful it is.

Feeling Namjoon move beside you, you turn your eyes to him. To his hands to be specific. Both of them are bare.

You frown. “Doesn’t Namjoon get a ring?” Of course, you know that guys typically don’t wear a ring when they get engaged, but looking at the ring you have gotten, you suddenly feel bad and you don’t want him to feel left out… even if he is being an ass. “I mean, I get to wear this,” you flash the ring. “and… I mean, I just don’t think it would be fair…” Your words fade as you find it hard to explain what you mean.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon assures you, his gaze shifting from the ring to your eyes. “This is how it works in ‘normal’ situations,” he air quotes. “you should get to wear the beautiful ring and feel special... Even if it is fake behind the scenes.”

For the first time, you hear him speak genuinely and it warms at your heart. Why could he not have been like this from the start? That would have made everything so much easier, and it sure as hell would have changed your first impression and opinion on him.

If only he continues to be like this everything will be fine and run smoothly. You just hope you haven’t spoken too soon.

“Alright perfect! Now that this is all in place, I think we can successfully wrap up the meeting, unless you have any last remarks sir?” Chinhae directs his last question towards Bang Si-Hyuk.

“I have no further remarks at the moment.” He says and stands from his chair.

Everyone else does the same, telling him goodbye as he leaves the room with the managers, leaving only you, Namjoon, Haeun, Sejin and Chinhae in the room.

You begin packing your stuff in your purse. Your copy of the contract, the statement and the ‘loose schedule’, and the black velvet box, but you halt with it in your hand, a thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Oh, should I wear this now?” You frown, referring to your ring.

“Uh…” Haeun hums, waiting for Chinhae to give you an answer.

“I mean, what if someone photographs me today wearing it?”

Chinhae checks his watch quickly. “No it’s okay, you can keep it on. It’s almost 4 o’clock anyways, so there should be no issues even if you are photographed wearing it.”

Silently, you nod, putting the velvet box in your purse carefully even though it is empty.

“I will see the both of you tomorrow between 4 and 5.” He chirps and leaves the room.

Now, only four people are left, but it seems that Namjoon is also in a hurry to leave, because as soon as Chinhae has disappeared though the door, he also makes a hasty retreat though it, Sejin right behind him.

So much for him starting to be nice and change his attitude…

“Happy engagement to me!” You jokingly scowl.

NEXT CHAPTER ⇨

This took me longer to get up than i initially wanted! But it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy!

If you do, please remember to like and reblog!

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