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javistg · 3 years

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A Second Chance CH 3.

It’s been almost two years since I posted Chapter 2 but Chapter 3 is finally ready!

I want to dedicate this chapter to @mega-aulover, @567inpanem, @katnissdoesnotfollowback, @hutchhitched, @justajjfan, @thegirlfromoverthepond, @booksrockmyface, @albinokittens300, @animekpopxx, @alliswell21, @alwayseverlark, @nightlock-1989, @katnissmeowverdeen, @mandelion82, @norbertsmom, @rosegardeninwinter, @everybirdfellsilent, @thelettersfromnoone, @mrspeetamellark, @taylerwrites, @ameliaodair, @everlark-always, @emilia206 and everyone else who joined this year’s @everlarkficexchange.

Thank you all for bringing inspiration back into my inbox, for reminding me of how fun it is to create something and to share it with this wonderful fandom.

Also, @theeverlarkingmoose this chapter is for you. Your words of encouragement made me want to go back and re-read what I had written. Everything started falling in place after that ❤️

Based on prompt 110: A time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay, (any part of the book, it's up to you), winds up back the day before her sister's first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what's coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again? [submitted by @wingletblackbird For EFE 2019]

To read from the beginning, you can go to AO3 or FF.net

CHAPTER 3.

The tribute train speeds along, silently hovering over the tracks on its way to the Capitol.

Alone in her compartment, Katniss cries. The hope and joy from the previous day are gone. Sorrow and defeat fill her heart as she sits on the bed.

Clutching a bag full of frosted cookies against her chest, she tries to come to terms with the fact that the unthinkable has happened again.

Covering her eyes from the glaring summer sun, an effervescent Effie Trinket walked onto the stage and pulled Prim's name out of a giant glass bowl.

For the second time in her life, Katniss stepped forward and volunteered to take her sister's place.

The crowd parted to let her through. Prim cried. Gale carried her away.

A silent District 12 saluted their tribute. Haymitch interrupted the proceedings with his drunken antics, and a rattled Effie called out Peeta's name.

After finishing the Treaty of Treason, the mayor prompted the tributes to shake hands.

Sorrow, pain, and an unexpected dash of hope danced in Peeta's eyes as he looked straight at her and gently squeezed her hand. Comforted by the gesture she no longer confused with a nervous spasm, Katniss squeezed back.

The goodbyes at the Justice Building were just as bad as she remembered them.

Katniss had thought it would be easier. She had imagined that knowing she had a real shot at coming back would help her be more convincing, more generous.

She wanted to be kinder to her mother --who had already proven she was strong enough to keep on going while Katniss was away-- and to leave her sister with a sense of certainty, with a bit of hope to cling to.

But, as soon as Prim started crying, Katniss's fears took over, and her resolutions melted as quickly as a blanket of snow.

In the end, history repeated itself, and Katniss used up most of her time going over all the practical stuff Prim and her mother needed to know. Right before the Peacekeepers barged in, the three Everdeen women hugged and promised, once again, that they would try their best.

Once her family left, Mr. Mellark delivered his cookies. The baker was just as quiet this time around, but Katniss didn't mind. Instead of fretting over his intentions, she was grateful for his generosity and kindness.

The door opened again, and Madge came in like a whirlwind, holding out the mockingjay pin and talking about district tokens.

"I'll bring it back," Katniss promised as her friend leaned in to fix the bird to her dress.

Madge kissed her friend's cheek. "I'm counting on that."

Madge had barely left the room when Gale walked in.

His eyes were dark and stormy, but when he opened his arms, she walked straight into them.

Their breakfast that morning hadn't been as pleasant as the one she remembered. Instead of joking around and talking about escaping into the woods, Gale had been surly and quiet.

To Katniss's relief, he hadn't mentioned Peeta or her stroll around the Meadow the previous afternoon. It didn't matter. His contribution to the meal, a day-old tesserae grain roll that could have only come from the Hob, spoke louder than any words ever could.

Gale Hawthorne hadn't been in the mood to stop by the bakery that morning.

"Listen," he said, stepping away from their embrace to look at her face. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

Katniss smiled. There he was, her friend, her partner, the man who was willing to put his own feelings aside, like he'd done in Thirteen, to help and support her.

No matter what, Gale had her back. Even if he wasn't thrilled with her right now, he would keep her family safe.

"You know how to kill," Gale insisted as they discussed strategies.

"Not people," she muttered.

"How different can it be, really?" A grim remark uttered in a moment of despair. She had never liked it but, after surviving two arenas, it made her furious.

"It's incredibly different!" Katniss yelled. Anger and dread danced in her veins as she remembered where she was headed to. "I'd be killing a person, Gale! A person! I'd be erasing their thoughts, their dreams, their—,"

"Listen," Gale grabbed her by the shoulders, "Catnip, you can't think that way. Not in the arena. You need to remember, only one comes out, right?"

Only one. The words were oddly familiar. Numb, Katniss nodded.

"Say it,” he pressed.

"They have to have a victor," Katniss whispered. Looking up into Gale's silver eyes, she repeated, "Only one comes out."

"That's it, and you can be the one. You can be the one who comes home, back to Prim, back to your mother. Because that's all that matters, right? They are all that matters."

"Right."

Pulling her back into his arms, Gale lowered his head to her ear and whispered, "You can do this, Katniss. Just… promise me, you won't let anyone distract you."

Anyone. He meant Peeta, of course. But Peeta wasn’t a distraction, he was her mission.

Clinging to his embrace to soak up his warmth, she promised, “I won’t.”

A Peacekeeper walked in.

Always the nonconformist, Gale asked for more time. He was granted none.

"Don't let them starve!" Katniss cried out, panicked, as her friend was escorted out of the room.

"I won't!" Gale vowed. "You know I won't!"

XXXXX

By the time Effie comes to collect her for supper, Katniss's tears have dried up.

Resigned to her fate, Katniss follows her escort through the narrow, rocking corridor into the dining room where Peeta sits, waiting for them.

At the sight of him, Katniss's breath hitches. This is the Peeta she knows best. Capitol clothes, winning smile, and a touch of… heartbreak in his eyes.

That wasn't there earlier, Katniss thinks. What happened? As Peeta's eyes flit away, she suddenly remembers. His mother.

Yes, Mrs. Mellark just told her youngest son that he's not good enough to come back from the arena.

She wants to run to his side, to wrap her arms around him, press a kiss on his forehead, and soothe his pain away.

She wishes with all her heart that she could tell him that the Witch and her bitterness don't matter, but she can't. Instead, she bites her lip, takes the empty chair by his side, and waits for Effie to start giving instructions.

The supper comes in courses. The starter, a thick carrot soup, is followed by a green salad.

Katniss is reaching for the platter with the lamb chops and mashed potatoes when Peeta leans into her side and casually says, "So… when you said you'd be at the back…"

Surprised, Katniss glances back at him. The teasing glint in his eyes brings a smile to her lips. "I guess I meant the front," she says, stabbing a lamb chop with her fork and dropping it on her plate. With a coy shrug, she adds, "I confuse them sometimes."

Peeta's retort is interrupted by Effie's shrill voice. "Oh! Are you two friends?"

Katniss freezes, but Peeta quickly comes to her rescue. "Not really," he says, ladling a dollop of mashed potatoes on his plate, "we go to school together, that's all."

Effie takes this news with a polite nod. Just as they're about to finish the main course, she speaks again. "At least, you two have decent manners," she says. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

Katniss narrows her eyes. Over the last couple of years, she's come to appreciate Effie, but her comment still disgusts her. So, once again, she makes a point of eating the rest of her meal with her fingers and wiping her hands on the tablecloth when she's done.

Bewildered, Effie straightens up in her chair, pursing her pink lips in shocked disapproval.

Good, Katniss thinks with a satisfied smirk. Things are just as they should be.

XXXXX

Katniss's first day in the Capitol is almost an exact replica of her previous one.

Her prep team scrubs and strips every inch of her body, removing all her hair and leaving her like a plucked bird, ready for roasting.

Later, when Cinna walks into the room, Katniss rolls her hands into tight fists and, somehow, manages to stop herself from lunging into his arms.

XXXXX

The carriage ride around the City Circle is a huge success.

While Portia is busy extinguishing the last of the artificial flames, Katniss reluctantly lets go of Peeta's hand.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me," says Peeta massaging his hand, "I was getting a little shaky there."

"It didn't show," Katniss tells him. "I'm sure no one noticed."

"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you," he replies, looking boldly into her eyes, "You should wear flames more often. They suit you."

Then, he does it again. He flashes her that smile, the one she knows he saves just for her, genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness.

Warmth rushes through her, and she bites her lip to keep from smiling too widely. She used to feel so vulnerable whenever this happened --like Peeta was in control, and she couldn't trust herself around him-- but she knows better now. Peeta's not trying to manipulate her, he's just paying her a compliment, and he's damned good at it!

No warning bells go off. No thoughts of hidden agendas, or strategies, or games cross Katniss's mind. Only joy and affection propel her as she stands on tiptoe and kisses his cheek, right on his bruise.

XXXXX

When Katniss notices the red-headed Avox at the dinner table later that night, she doesn't even flinch.

With watchful eyes, she follows the girl's movements and tries not to think about Darius —or the way he looked at her the last time they saw each other in that same room.

Taking a bite of her cake, Katniss glances back at Peeta and wonders —just for an instant— if he ever saw what Effie called the "matching set" while Snow kept him captive.

The thought is too painful to even consider, so she stops poking at it and goes back to the conversation around the table.

Later, as she lies in bed looking at images of a slow trickling stream projected on her wall, she silently berates herself for her silence. Her original reaction hadn't really hurt anyone, but it had led to Peeta covering for her and showing her the rooftop garden.

She longs to go there now. It's the only place where she can breathe, and she's sure Peeta's there already, looking down unto the Capitol skyline. But how can she join him when no one in this timeline has shown her the way?

The answer is so simple it makes her laugh. The terrace isn't exactly hidden, and Peeta knows she's an illegal hunter who sneaks under an electrified fence every day. He won't question her if she says she just stumbled upon it while exploring the apartment.

Katniss steps into the cool, windy evening air. Twelve floors down, the Capitol twinkles like a vast field of fireflies. It's a familiar sight by now, but it still fills her with wonder.

Peeta's already there, standing by the railing at the edge of the roof. His eyes widen when he sees her approach.

"How did you find this place?" Katniss asks, trying her best to sound surprised.

"Cinna showed me," Peeta says. "You?"

"I did some exploring."

Katniss reaches his side, and they both turn to look out onto the skyline.

"You can practically see the whole city," Peeta says.

They stand there for a few minutes, enjoying the show of flickering lights, listening to the wind chimes behind them and the noises from the city below.

They're standing so close together that she can feel the warmth radiating off of him. A little closer and I would smell his scent, she thinks, hoping she could wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his shirt.

"A penny for your thoughts," Peeta asks.

Startled out of her reverie, Katniss laughs, "A penny? Is that the going rate in town?"

Peeta shrugs. "I guess. It's just something my grandmother used to say."

She's heard this before, back on their victory tour, but she still asks, "Which grandmother?"

"Grandma Mellark. She had tons of sayings, one for every occasion. She died when I was ten, but I still remember some of them." After a short pause, he asks, "How about you? Do you remember your grandparents?"

"No. I never met them."

Peeta turns towards her. The earnest curiosity dancing in his eyes tugs at her heart. "Never?"

Katniss shakes her head. "I know my mother's parents ran the apothecary up until a few years ago, but we never went there. I might have seen them on the street, but…"

"And on your father's side?"

"They both died before I was born. I don't know much about them, just that they knew a lot about plants and that my grandmother loved music. My dad used to say that she could remember any song after only hearing it once and that she had a beautiful voice."

Peeta's hushed words are almost lost in the din of the wind chimes, but they reach her all the same. "Just like yours."

She's about to contradict him but, when she looks up, her mind goes blank. Peeta's looking back at her with a tenderness and warmth that still haunts her dreams.

“I don’t sing,” she hears herself say.

"But you used to,” Peeta says, “back when we were little.”

It's almost like being back in the cave. Her skin tingles, her heart soars.

Flustered, Katniss asks, "You remember that?"

Peeta looks away. His cheeks turn beet red as he softly admits, "I do."

Her heart's hammering madly against her rib cage now.

For an instant, she thinks he's going to tell her the story again, the one about their first day of school and the teacher asking her to sing; but he does no such thing.

Keeping his eyes on the horizon, Peeta straightens up and pushes himself away from her and the railing.

Disappointed, Katniss turns away.

Deep down, she's also relieved. As much as she wants to regain the closeness she once shared with Peeta, she knows they're not ready yet.

Unlike her, Peeta doesn't know what their future holds. He likes her well enough, but they're training for the Games. He still needs to keep his distance from his district partner.

Satisfied that she's done plenty for one night, Katniss stretches her arms over her head and fakes a yawn. "We should get some rest," she says.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's going to be a big, big, big day!"

Katniss laughs. Peeta's impersonation of their escort has always been pitch-perfect.

They climb the stairs together. When they reach the corridor that leads up to their rooms, Peeta whispers, "Good night, Katniss."

The words wrap around her heart, soothing her like no morphling ever did. She's still savoring them when she whispers back, "Good night, Peeta."

XXXXX

It's a little before ten when Katniss and Peeta step out of the elevator and into the Training Center. The other tributes are already there gathered in a circle around Atala, the head trainer.

As soon as the tall woman starts to talk, Katniss tunes her out. She's heard the little speech twice already. She doesn't need to listen to it again.

Beside her, Peeta lets out a small sigh.

He's frustrated, Katniss thinks. She considers reaching out to squeeze his hand but stops herself, knowing that Peeta probably won’t welcome the gesture right now.

She can’t blame him, not after the morning they've had.

The discussion over their individual skills at breakfast had been slightly less contentious this time around, but not by much.

After mentioning Katniss’s abilities, Peeta had still brought up his mother's hurtful parting words.

Katniss had been less cagey. She had managed to keep the bread incident out of the conversation, but Peeta's comment about the effect she had on people had —once again— raised her hackles. Not because she had felt insulted, lile the first time, but because she’d been reminded of everything she’d lost.

As she saw the old Peeta willing to give his life for her, she couldn’t help but think of the other version of him; the version she had left behind in District 13. That Peeta hated her. He had gone through hell and back to be with her and now he wanted her dead.

Who knows? She bitterly told herself after Haymitch dismissed them. Maybe this magical effect of mine doesn't last very long. Maybe, one day, the whole country will wake up and hate me too.

XXXXX

While Atala reads down the list of the skill stations, Katniss can't keep her eyes from flitting around the room.

Marvel. Clove. Cato. Fox-face. Thresh. Rue.

Her chest tightens. These are the faces that haunt her dreams. The voices that echo in her nightmares.

Katniss bites her lip to keep from screaming. Her palms are clammy, her heart is racing, but she doesn't move an inch.

This is the hardest thing she's had to do so far, and she needs to get it right. She can't let the others see her distress.

Slowly averting her eyes, she reminds herself, My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me, but I came back.

Katniss breathes. In. Out. In. Out.

Her heart rate is almost back to normal when she finishes. I came back to make Snow pay.

She's still lost in her thoughts when Peeta nudges her arm and makes her jump.

His expression is sober. "Where would you like to start?"

Katniss looks around at the Career Tributes who are already showing off, clearly trying to intimidate the field. Then at the others, the underfed, the incompetent, shakily having their first lessons with a knife or an ax.

"Suppose we tie some knots," she says.

"Right you are," says Peeta.

XXXXX

They spend their morning trying out different skills.

Now that she knows what type of arena awaits her, Katniss realizes that the stations are full of clues. The kinds of ropes they use at the knot-tying class. The mud, clay, and berry juices available in the camouflage section. They all seem so obvious now that she knows they'll be going to a forest.

When they reach the medicinal plants' section, Katniss stops short. The last time she was here, she practically skipped it, but she's on a different mission now, so she walks in and makes sure Peeta follows.

A big screen shows pictures of plants with a brief description underneath.

Katniss flips through the crisp images until she finds what she's looking for: the leaves Rue used to treat her.

"These are great!" she enthusiastically tells Peeta. "They fight off infection, bring down swelling, and numb the pain. They're handy when you've been stung by insects or bees. You have to chew them up into a pulp and spit them on top of your wound."

Peeta wrinkles his nose. "Spit them?"

"Yeah," Katniss confirms, "Otherwise, you won't release their properties. My mother would use other methods, but…" Lowering her voice, she adds, "Sometimes you don't have a lot of options when you're out in the woods."

Apparently satisfied with her answer, Peeta nods. After glancing around to make sure no one is listening, he whispers, "Have you been stung many times?"

"Only twice," Katniss admits, "I immediately pulled the stingers out and put the leaves on top. It wasn't so bad."

Peeta's eyes are locked on the screen as he says, "Maybe I should stuff my pockets with these if I ever find any in the arena. You know? Just in case."

"It won't hurt," Katniss agrees, holding on to the hope that he will do just that.

XXXXX

On the second night of her training, Katniss decides to go back to the rooftop.

Peeta is already there. He's sitting on a bench by the flower beds with a sketchpad propped up against his bent knee. The little bundle of pencils she gave him back in District Twelve rests by his side.

She can tell he's distracted, so she clears her throat to make her presence known.

"Hey!" Peeta calls out. He looks tired, but his smile is sweet and welcoming.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks.

Peeta pats the empty seat next to him, and Katniss walks over.

A small sigh escapes her as she sits down. Her daytime routine hasn't been as tiring this time around, but she's still beat.

"Nice pad," she says.

"It's Portia's," Peeta runs his fingers along the edge of the paper in a reverent caress. "She said I could borrow it."

Anticipating her next question, Peeta tilts the pad in her direction.

Katniss gasps. The angle of the image is one she cannot place, but there's no doubt in her mind, Peeta has painted her woods.

Reaching for the corner of the pad so as not to smudge his drawing, she asks, "Where is this?"

"It's the view from my house."

Katniss narrows her eyes, the bakery is in the center of town, but Peeta hasn't included any buildings in his picture. "Your house?"

"There's an attic that we use for storage. I like to go up there sometimes. It's higher than most buildings in the district, so you get to see all the way out into the woods."

Katniss stares at the drawing and tells herself not to cry, but it's not easy. Not when Prim and District Twelve are so far away, not when Peeta is opening up to her in ways he never did before.

"Do you like it?" Peeta asks.

The nervous tremor in his voice tugs at her heart; she reaches for his arm and gives him a reassuring squeeze. "Of course I do! Peeta, it's extraordinary! Prim's right. You're very talented."

Peeta shakes his head and accepts the compliment with a quiet, "Thank you."

Letting go of him, Katniss settles in her seat, resting her back against the wall and stretching her legs. Nodding to his pad, she says, "Go on. Don't let me interrupt."

Peeta starts drawing again.

Katniss watches, mesmerized, as his hand dances over the paper, making the blank page bloom with delicate strokes of color.

They stay like that for a while, side by side on the bench, wrapped in peaceful silence, enjoying each other's presence and silently wishing for more time.

XXXXX

As soon as the anthem is over, Katniss makes a beeline out of the Training Center lobby and onto the elevator bank. Moving swiftly, she veers into a car that does not contain Peeta.

The crowd slows the entourages of stylists and mentors and chaperones. Soon, Katniss finds herself alone with only other tributes for company. No one speaks.

The elevator stops to deposit four tributes before she's alone. One quick breath is all she has time for before the doors open on the twelfth floor.

Peeta has only just stepped from his car when she slams her palms into his chest and pushes him towards the wall.

Peeta loses his balance, but the wall breaks his fall. A few inches away from him, an ugly urn filled with fake flowers stands on its pedestal, untouched.

With Peeta safely out of harm's way, Katniss grabs the urn and smashes it on the floor, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces.

Good, she thinks as she takes a step back, I've always hated the damned thing.

"What was that for?" Peeta says, aghast.

"You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" Katniss yells at him.

Before Peeta can say anything, the elevators open, and the whole crew is there, Effie, Haymitch, Cinna, and Portia.

"What's going on?" says Effie, a note of hysteria in her voice as she notices the broken urn and Peeta slumped form against the wall. "Did you trip?”

"No," says Peeta pushing himself off the wall to straighten up, "Katniss broke it after she shoved me."

Haymitch turns on Katniss. "Shoved him?"

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Katniss answers, "Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?"

"It was my idea," Peeta cuts in. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

The hurt in his eyes guts her, but she can't back down now. This is how she reacted the first time around, and as hard as it is, she knows she has to stick with it.

"Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!" she yells.

"You are a fool," Haymitch says in disgust. "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

"He made me look weak!" Katniss says.

"He made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!" says Haymitch.

"But we're not star-crossed lovers!" she says.

Haymitch grabs her shoulders and pins her against the wall. "Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived…"

As Haymitch prattles on about sponsors, Katniss tunes out. She doesn't need to be convinced of anything. She already knows their strategy is the right one.

As soon as Cinna steps into the conversation, Katniss softens. "I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid," she grumbles.

"No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real," says Portia.

"She's just worried about her boyfriend," says Peeta gruffly, eyes locked on the shattered urn.

Katniss fixes him with a deadly glare. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Whatever," says Peeta. "But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides, you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?"

As the words sink in, an old familiar darkness envelops her. This, right here, is what has caused so much pain between them.

Even after all this time and everything they've been through, she has never been able to tell Peeta how she feels about him. Just as she's never told Gale that he's nothing more than a dear friend.

This silence, this reticence, has hurt Peeta over and over again. It's the reason why he pushed her away after their first Game and why President Snow was able to twist his mind and convince him that she was a mutt programmed to kill him.

I need to do better, she thinks. This time around, I need to do more.

Feeling all eyes on her, Katniss turns to Cinna and asks, "After he said he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?"

"I did," says Portia. "The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush."

The others chime in, agreeing.

"You're golden, sweetheart," Haymitch adds. "You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block."

Worried that she's going to burst out in tears, she forces herself to acknowledge Peeta. "I'm sorry I shoved you."

"Doesn't matter," he shrugs. "The urn got it worse."

Portia and Cinna's goodnatured laughter diffuses the remaining tension.

"Come on, let's eat," says Haymitch directing everyone towards the delicious smells wafting in from the dining room.

XXXXX

The roof is not lit at night, but as soon as her bare feet reach its tiled surface, she sees his silhouette, black against the lights that shine endlessly in the Capitol.

There's quite a commotion going on down in the streets, music and singing and car horns. Katniss knows she could slip away now without Peeta noticing her; he wouldn't hear her over the din, but that's not what she wants.

Her feet move soundlessly across the tiles. She's only a yard behind him when she says, "You should be getting some sleep."

Peeta starts but doesn't turn, just gives his head a slight shake. "I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all."

She comes up beside him and leans over the edge of the rail. The wide streets are full of dancing people. Squinting to get a better look at them, she asks, "Are they in costumes?"

"Who could tell? With all the crazy clothes they wear here." Turning to her, he asks, "Couldn't sleep, either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she says.

"Thinking about your family?"

"Not exactly," she admits a bit guiltily. After going through two arenas, she's not as worried about Prim and her mother as she once was. She knows they can cope without her. "All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course."

Facing him, she says, "I really am sorry about before."

"It doesn't matter, Katniss," Peeta says.

"I was just upset that you would share something private like that…"

Peeta nods. "I know."

"And, also… I just don't get it. I mean, why would you give me an advantage like that? You're going to need sponsors too, you know?"

Peeta shakes his head. "It won't make a difference. I've never been a contender in these Games. Not really."

Katniss reaches for his hand. "Peeta, that's no way to be thinking."

"Why not? It's true." With the gentlest of touches, Peeta runs his fingers over the back of Katniss's hand. "My best hope is to not disgrace myself and . . ." he hesitates.

With a small squeeze, she silently encourages him to continue.

"I don't know how to say it exactly," Peeta finally says. "Only . . . I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?"

Katniss swallows thickly.

Once upon a time, she stood there and told him that she didn't understand and —most importantly— that she didn't care. But she's a different person now. She knows exactly what he means and why it matters.

Although she knows what he's getting at, she still needs him to complete his thought. Shyly, she asks, "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.

Her chest tightens at his words. Being back in that moment with him reminds her of everything that’s gone wrong in her life.

Before her mind can wander back into the dark recesses of her pain, she says, "The thing is, Peeta, you're not. None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"OK, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me," he insists. "Don't you see?"

Katniss nods. She sees, she knows, she understands. What's more, she still can't believe she was ever so blind.

She inches closer to him so he can hear her over the ruckus of the city and the wind chimes.

In her mind, she repeats the little speech she's prepared for this moment. Every year they throw us in an arena and tell us to kill each other, and we do it. But there's a part, deep inside of us, that they don't own, a part that refuses to be pushed around and that will stand up and say, "enough, this is a line I won't cross."

But, once she opens her mouth, the words that slip from her lips are quite different, "I don't have a boyfriend."

Peeta blinks. Once. Twice. "What?"

Katniss bursts out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just…" Bewildered, she covers her face to hide her embarrassment and silently reprimand herself for losing her focus.

With a shake of her head, she straightens up. Her earnest eyes meet Peeta's. "I get what you're saying. They are forcing us to fight for our lives, but they don't get to decide how we go about it, right? We do. At the end of the day, it's up to us. We choose who to attack and who to help, when to face danger and when to hide. "

Peeta nods. "Right." Looking out into the sprawling city, he adds, "I just hope I can make the right choices, you know?"

Katniss sighs. “Yeah, me too.”

Leaning against the railing, Peeta tilts his head to look at her. The playful glint in his eyes is something she hasn't seen in a very long time. "So, you don't have a boyfriend."

Katniss shakes her head, chuckling at the absurdity of the topic.

"What about the guy who took your sister away at the reaping?"

"That's Gale."

"Uh-huh," Peeta's head bobs up and down as he nods. "And Gale is…"

Katniss looks up at him. He's so open, so pure, right now that all her thoughts about plans and strategies melt away. "He's just a friend," she says.

Peeta's smile forms slowly, warm and genuine, a little flirty even. It makes her whole body tingle. "Just a friend, huh? Does he know that?"

Katniss's jaw goes slack. Back in the day, she would have answered with a resounding "yes, of course, he does" but, that answer doesn't really fit the situation. She knows that now. So, instead of throwing her righteous indignation at him, she asks, "What do you mean?"

Peeta shrugs. "I don't know. It's just… I thought you had something with him."

Genuinely intrigued, she asks, "Why?"

"Um," Peeta fills his lungs with crisp Capitol air. As he pushes it out, he says, "You seem to spend a lot of time together. Whenever I see you around town, you're either with him or with Prim. I used to think he was your cousin or something. You favor each other. But then... there was the look."

Katniss frowns. "The look?"

"Yeah." Peeta's shy smile makes another appearance. "He kept glaring at me the other day when we met up by the Meadow." The shocked expression on her face makes him chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"Well," Katniss reaches for the end of her messy braid and begins twisting it around her finger. "I wasn't focusing on him."

Peeta's lips part, but no words come out.

Blushing, Katniss turns to face the city again. "Gale and I hunt together. Our families are close. That's it."

Peeta's gentle touch on her elbow gets her attention. Kind, soft eyes gaze straight into hers when he says, "You know, Katniss, what I said earlier—,"

Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses him, stopping his words.

It takes Peeta half a second to react. In one fluid move, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him.

His lips meld with hers in a slow, sweet dance.

After months of pain and sorrow, Katniss finally feels joy. Closing her eyes, she forgets the world and kisses him with abandon.

Peeta's free hand makes its way to the back of her head, where he buries his fingers in her hair to keep her there, rooted in his arms, anchored to him.

Elated, Katniss hums her approval.

This kiss is like the cave and the beach all rolled into one. It's like every happy moment they've ever shared together, every smile, every touch. It's like coming home after a long day, like finding her soul.

That familiar stirring inside her chest, warm and curious, comes back to life. It fills her entire being with want and need, pushing her to explore more. Blindly, she follows.

Holding on to his broad shoulders, Katniss pulls him even closer, pressing herself against his chest until she can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, beating against her own.

Smiling, Peeta begins raining kisses over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

Her skin tingles. Her pulse races. Her heart soars.

I'll keep you safe, she promises, holding on to him like she did back at the beach, back when they were surrounded by mutts and enemies and lies.

With one long sigh, Peeta finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to hers while they both catch their breaths.

In that brief moment of glorious harmony only one thought goes through her mind. Peeta. Every heartbeat is like a reminder. He's back, he's here, he's mine.

Glancing up, she finds his eyes, dark and dazed, and she knows. Whatever this is, Peeta feels it too. He always has.

"Katniss—,"

"No," she interrupts again, placing her fingers on his lips to quiet him. She hates what she's about to do, but she doesn't have a choice.

She takes a step away from him and immediately feels lost. "You have a plan for tomorrow, right?"

Peeta's face falls at the sudden reminder of why they're there. He nods.

Reaching forward, Katniss brushes the hair back from his forehead in one last tender caress. "That's what you need to focus on, OK? Just think about—,"

"Staying alive?" Peeta finishes, a crooked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Katniss cups his cheek. "Exactly." Her heart skips a beat when he leans into her touch, but she still insists, "This doesn't change anything that happens tomorrow, Peeta. It can't."

"I know," he says, covering her hand with his and pressing a kiss to her palm. "It just changes everything that's happened until today."

Katniss bites her lip and nods. Peeta's right. Even for her, things are dramatically different now. There's so much more at stake. She knows where they stand, and she's no longer running away from him and the things he makes her feel.

Rising to the tips of her toes, she kisses him one last time. "See you tomorrow," she says.

Then, she walks away.

#things i write #A second Chance #Everlark fan fiction #time travel AU

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Green Light

Pairing: Harry Styles X Ex Reader, Harry Styles X New Girlfriend

Genre: Angst

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol use, Mentions of Drug use, Past Infidelity

Listen: Green Light by Lorde

For the #playlistficchallenge by @harrystylescherry

The lights flicker against her skin, dancing pinks and purples and blues giving way to green as the bass thumps through the speakers. The light up floor is causing an illusion against her body as she hastily searches for her peers. Eyes darting across the club, trying to find the couple of the hour, but getting lost in the sea of drunk people dancing to a b-rate Whitney Houston cover, she’s becoming frustrated. Why play Whitney if you’re not going to play the original? She wonders, moving through the perimeter towards what she assumes is the VIP area. Being correct, she waits patiently for one of the guests to notice her, waving her into the exclusive space.

He notices her first, beaten converse and magenta tulle, she dressed to kill. Standing, he moves towards the bodyguard, pointing to her as the guard gave her a once-over. Nodding, pulling the rope back, she smiles at the stranger before deftly moving into the space.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Harry says, hand on the small of her back, flush against the exposed skin, lips low to her ear, guiding her towards their friends.

“You’re such a liar,” She replies, rolling her eyes. The neon eyeliner, drifting over her eyelids and near her brows is striking against the dim lights. The single rhinestones applied carefully to the inner corners of her eyes bounce the light off, shrouding her in a conflicting color story.

“You made it!” Daisy yells, arms reaching to pull her into a hug. It’s tight and sweaty, a sign she’s either been dancing or snorting.

“I told you I’d be here,” Her smile widens at her friend, “Congrats again on your engagement.”

“Thank you!!! Now please, drink. We have bottle service until midnight,” Daisy hands her a champagne flute, which she happily tosses back before reaching for the vodka. “If you’re good, you can have a little of what I’m having.”

“I better behave,” She responds, eyes clocking Harry talking to Daisy’s fiancé, Jack.

“I thought he wasn’t coming,” Daisy’s gaze follows hers, eying the man. His wide trousers and cropped jacket give way to the tattoos covering his chest, swallows in constant conversation. Hair recently cut, he’s scruffy and wanting, his eyes not hesitating to check her out for the second time in two minutes.

“Lies,” She scoffs, eyes rolling again at the sentiment.

“I swear! Jack said he was out of town,” Daisy counters.

“Clearly he’s not,” She looks at their other friends, nodding and smiling to the familiar faces. Their friends from uni, from work, a few from their neighborhood in Holmes Chapel have all gathered to raise a glass at Daisy and Jack’s inevitable engagement. It feels like the kind of New Year’s party Harry would’ve dragged her to, on the pretense that it would be fun to catch up. Knowing he would be right, she would’ve gone and enjoyed the company of the people who knew her before she was on his arm, the people who knew him when he worked all hours at the bakery. Tonight, their friendly smiles weren’t hitting the same, welcoming her into their embrace, no, they were darting between her and Harry, unsure where their allegiance should lie.

“Rumor has it, he’s got a new girlfriend,” Daisy says.

“Super,” She purses her lips, eyes moving to search for whoever his latest trophy was.

“Don’t be like that,” Daisy shakes her head, disappointment oozing from every syllable.

“Like what?” She snaps.

“You’re so mad he’s with someone else, when -

“I thought we were done talking about what happened between us?” She interrupts, frustration and anger coursing through her veins.

“If you were over it, you’d stop looking at him like that,” Daisy holds her own, tone unwavering.

“Fuck off.”

Handing her a drink, Daisy levels with her, “Drink.”

Tossing back whatever was in the glass, she waits impatiently for the liquor to take over, coursing through her veins and reducing her heat to a dull simmer.

In the months after the breakup, she hadn’t seen or interacted with Harry. No cursory texts, no awkward pleasantries exchanged at a birthday party, or running into him at the grocery. She didn’t speak to him, and yet he was everywhere. His voice, his favorite sayings, his touch, his music, all of it spread across the city, taunting her. She had let him go, literally, but figuratively, metaphorically, he was everywhere. Seeping into her thoughts, burrowing into her mind, never able to escape him even in sleep. Tonight, he looked at her like he didn’t know her at all, like she was the villain in his story, not the other way around. Like he didn’t let his work get the best of them, ruining what they had in its wake.

Somewhere between drinks four and five, Harry’s latest lover arrives. Scarily tall and equally skinny, silky brown locks and pouty lips, it’s clear she’s a model. Whether she was with anyone or not, the bouncer lets her into the VIP section without a second thought. She floats towards Harry, sinking gently onto his lap before whispering in his ear. He smiles at her as she places a hand on his scruff covered cheek and lowers her lips to his.

From the dance floor, she stares, unable to stop watching him move on from her. How could it be so easy?

Pulling her attention back to the floor, Daisy spins her, moving them out of sight from Harry. The lights beneath their feet give way to a soft glow about her, the colors bending against Daisy’s white jumpsuit. She’s grateful for her friend, her best friend, grateful for the distraction of alcohol and blow, grateful to be dancing and screaming the lyrics instead of sitting in the tub at home, crying into her room temperature bath water. But grateful and grieving often go together, and as her level of intoxication ebbs, the hurt of seeing Harry with someone knew, she retreats to the VIP section to gather herself.

“You must be Y/N,” The model says, moving from her post next to Harry to her.

“Um, yes?” She responds, eyes traveling up the woman’s legs, slowly making their way to her face.

“I’m Arden, Harry’s girlfriend,” Arden smiles, blinding, and sits down. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Can’t believe everything you hear,” She scoffs, grateful for the bottle of water Jack hands her before going to find Daisy amongst the neon.

“Harry speaks quite highly of you, so does Jack,” Arden continues to smile, blissfully ignoring the contempt she’s displaying.

“You’ve met Jack before?” She asks.

“Just Jack, never Daisy, she’s stunning, right?” Arden asks, laughing.

“Yeah, completely,” She nods, eyes traveling to find Daisy, her beacon in the club. She’s been best friends with Daisy since diapers, their mother’s best friends, hoping and praying they’d each have daughters to carry on the legacy of their familial bond.

“Harry tells me you’re in publishing,” Arden tries again to make conversation.

“Correct,” She nods again.

“That’s amazing, I love reading,” Arden offers.

“Same.”

“I have a lot of downtime at work, I’m a model. I just did the new Rodarte campaign, and Gucci,” Arden is trying her damnest to make this work, but her motives remain a mystery.

“Congrats,” She snorts, unimpressed by the model’s recent credentials.

“Thanks, I just want to say, I know you and Harry are at this weird point in your friendship, but I do hope you’ll work it out.” Arden is serious, glossy blue eyes resolute.

“Did Harry tell you why we broke up?” She asks, eyeing Arden suspiciously.

“A little, but I didn’t ask. It was before me so really, who cares?” Arden forces a giggle, baby blues trying to break through the tension.

“Right,” She nods, a slight eyeroll giving way to her true feelings.

“I just thought maybe you two could, mend your –

“Hey,” Harry says, making his way towards the two of you.

“Hi babe,” Arden seamlessly slips her arm around his waist, pulling him close to her.

“What uh, what are you two talking about?” Harry asks, eyes accusatory as he again takes in your stunning appearance.

“I was just saying that we’re going to Tahiti after I finish my campaign with Gucci. Relax, sit on the beach, drink Mai Tai’s, surf, or really, for me, learn,” Arden rambles on, her hair bouncing in animation, matching her words. Her deft swerve to the topic of vacation surprising, unsure why she needed to lie to Harry.

“The beach?” she asks, looking at Harry. He nods, cursory.

“Yeah,” He sips on his drink.

“Huh,” She responds, eyes narrow. “Will you excuse me? It was nice meeting you Arden.”

Slipping out of the VIP section and into the night air, she feels his presence behind her, chasing after her as she moves through the crowd and into the brisk summer air.

Not bothering to turn around, she asks, “Why are you following me?”

“Why did you just disappear?” Harry demands, coming to stand next to her. His warmth radiating onto her skin.

“You’re here with someone else,” She reminds him.

“You haven’t responded to any of my –

“Harry, you are here with someone else, the very someone else who if I’m not mistaken, is the reason for our demise,” She turns to stare at him, eyes boring into his.

“I, she’s not,” Harry shakes his head.

“Oh right, because I am the sole proprietor of our heartache and failed relationship,” Another eyeroll. Her mother used to tell her that if you roll your eyes too many times, they’ll get stuck up there. A fear she was clearly ignoring.

“You’re not,” Harry scoffs, they’d had this fight before.

“Why are you looking at me like I am?” She’s unwilling to back down, a trait Harry once loved about her.

“I’m, I’m sorry alright?” Harry’s flustered speech gives way to a run of his hand through his curls. Resting his hands on his hips, he stares at her.

“Sorry for what?” She asks again, words clipped.

“Everything,” He shrugs.

“That’s the least specific apology I have ever heard,” She deadpans. He wants to respond with some witty banter, some lighthearted sarcasm, some joke a year ago, five years ago, she would’ve laughed at. But they’re not the same people they were six months ago.

“What do you want me to say?” Harry’s exasperated.

“I want you to tell me how you really feel, because we broke up six months ago, and I still don’t understand why you ran to her, whoever she was, instead of fighting for me. Then tell me why our friends think I’m the viper, I’m the one who broke your heart. Why are you spreading rumors hoping they’ll bite me, when they just show how pathetic you’re behaving?” Her volume increases exponentially as she speaks, until she’s nearly yelling at him.

“That’s not fair,” Harry states, eyes closing as he shakes his head.

“I’m trying to let go, Harry. But you fucking have your tentacles in everything I do! You’re everywhere.”

“It’s so easy for me? You are everywhere. Every new song I write, every role I consider taking, every project. I still fucking talk to you like you’ll hear me, everywhere I go is tainted by some memory of us.” Harry spits back.

“Tell me why, Harry. Why are you going to Tahiti?” She questions, voice cutting through the cold air and going straight to Harry’s heart.

“I like the beach,” He shrugs.

“You are such a fucking liar! No, you don’t!” She yells, arms reaching towards the summer sky as she shakes her head at him.

“Maybe I’m trying out new things,” Harry stares at her, “Maybe I’m trying to be –

“What, different? Better? You cheat on me, after saying that you will always be in love with me, which surprise, you’re not!”

“Not a cheater?” Harry’s momentarily confused, a slight diversion from the rant she’s begun.

“Not in love anymore,” Her eyes are wide, confused by his lapse in memory, “You’re not in love with me anymore. You cheated on me, lied to our friends and now you’re here with little miss long legs.”

“Don’t call her that,” Harry says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Arden,”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Harry runs a hand through his locks again, sighing in frustration.

“No, you’re not. If you were, she wouldn’t be here with you. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fighting with me outside the club. If you were sorry, you’d –

“I need your forgiveness! Alright, that’s why I’m out here.” Harry’s voice raises several decibels. He’s been holding onto this for months, long before she found out, long before he willingly broke her heart.

She lets out a shaky breath, “What?”

“I need you to forgive me, to accept my apology, to, give me the green light that it’s okay to be, not yours anymore,” Harry explains.

“You cheated on me!” She yells, finger pointing directly above Harry’s heart. “I have honored you by not telling our friends for what? You don’t get to have or ask for my forgiveness, I’ve already given you too much. Forgiveness went out the window when you fucked someone else Harry! How dare you ask me to forgive you, absolve you, for a sin you willingly committed. You were in complete control of yourself and you still cheated on me. You want a green light? That was fucking it.”

She pushes past him, stomping back into the club and onto the dance floor, into the arms of someone else, someone who isn’t scared to kiss her above the dazzling lights, someone whose bedroom she’ll wake up in, unsure where she is, not caring to leave a note before slipping out into the city. And hopefully, after a few more escapades, the embrace of the rising sun on her walk home won’t echo his voice anymore. The birds chirping won’t sing his songs, and the sting of telling Daisy the truth won’t ring out over overcooked eggs and overpriced mimosas.

Harry had wanted her to give him the green light, but in refusing to do so, she watched the light change for herself.

Next: Talia

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #green light #lorde #lyric challenge #happy birthday harry #exes #new girlfriend #engagement party #harrystylescherry

104 notes · View notes

onepiecereactions · 3 years

Text

Vice-Admiral Smoker and the joys of administration, OS

Smoker, Tashigi, Garp, Kizaru OS.

Humour.

Warning vulgarity.

2100 words.

English Version

Vice-Admiral Smoker and the joys of administration

Smoker hated coming backfrom a mission. Don't get me wrong, he loves his job! But two things annoyed him the most about these moments.

On the one hand, that meant not going on the sea for at least a few weeks. Indeed, Marineford had established a complex system of turnover of vice-admirals so, with some exceptions, at least 3 vice admirals are always present on the base in case of necessity.

The feeling of freedom, feeling the air on his face, not being locked, that was what made Smoker happy deep inside him. That and the feeling of having helped the citizens and brought some justice back to this damn world, obviously.

On the other hand, returning to base meant a horrible administrative mountain. And just thinking about it, headaches were already migrating through the vice-admiral's head. Luckily, Tashigi was always ready to help him and do some of his duties to let him rest.

So it was with a heavy heart that Smoker set foot on the base for the first time after months of mission. While Tashigi was already rushing into his office with the firm intention of working all night to do her report on time, Smoker was walking mechanically to his private apartments. He threw his dirty jacket on the floor, took a long, hot shower, and get into his bed, already cursing tomorrow's hellish day.

The next morning the vice-admiral woke up in a bad mood. He grabbed his jacket that he had left on the soaked bathroom floor and sighed: it was ruined. As resistant as the clothes made by Marineford are, staying intact when you get cannonballs in your back is complicated. And Smoker, unlike many of the women on the base, hated walking around topless.

So his first resolution of the day was to go find a new jacket. And of course, he was going to ask Tashigi to do it for him. At first, as a man of integrity, Smoker was remorseful about leaving so many of his tasks to his colleague, even if the latter was doing wonderfully. But after several years in Marineford, honestly, now he didn't care.

So he grabbed his den den mushis and called the brunette. After several seconds of waiting, Tashigi did not pick up. Smoker worried, it was very unusual for the young woman who had a reputation for answering even when she was asleep.

He then quickly took two cigars from his desk, threw his dead jacket over his back, and walked quickly to his office.

Misfortune never happening alone, of course, on the way he passed Admiral Kizaru. The latter joined him in his race to his office and took the opportunity to discuss. The Yellow Admiral had the reputation of loving to talk, much to the misfortune of Smoker who loved calm above all else.

"Oh, tell me dear friend, are the holes in the jacket a new fashion? I know that I am no longer very young but still, I don’t understant. Is it to provide a ventilation system? Don't tell me you have a fever my dear friend? Do you want me to call the dear caregivers of the "

Kizaru didn't even have time to finish his monologue when he got the door of Smoker's office in the face. The latter had already crushed his cigars to refrain from hitting the high-ranking officer in the face.

Once he was sure he heard the yellow monkey leave, he got into the chair across from his desk and reached into the second drawer to extract two new cigars.

After a few seconds of enjoying the smoke reaching his lungs, Smoker grabbed the stationary den den mushi of his desk and, as he went to call Tashigi, a note stuck to the back of his device intrigued him.

"Even though I warned you last night, that I sent you an official mail 48 hours before and that I slipped a note under the door of your apartment, I want to remind you, just in case, that I am absent that day until 7:30 p.m. All the captains have a meeting. I wish you a very nice day. Captain TASHIGI. "

Oh shit. For a little Smoker could have cried. It was certainly one of the worst announcements he could receive. No Tashigi. No Tashigi for a whole day! One more day after a mission! All the calls and assignments she receives today will go straight back to him, her boss! In addition to her work he was going to have to do his own! With holes in his jacket.

Smoker decided to go on strike. The schedule for that day was already far too scary to be able to live it. A thousand times he would have preferred to fight against Monkey D Luffy rather than going through it.

He then decided he would do what was necessary. He got up quickly from his seat, crashed out of his office and almost ran towards Building C. It was barely nine in the morning but the Vice Admiral thought he was fainting when he saw the huge queue in front of the door. . Obviously, it was Monday, and those morons in the administrative sector never worked weekends.

He then did like everyone else, walked over to the door to grab a numbered ticket, sat down on one of the few free seats and waited.

To his left was an ordinary soldier, without a shirt and pants, just his underwear. Smoker could smell a familiar scent of magma. Akainu had made his own again during the training of his subordinates.

Smoker looked at his ticket, number 38 and sighed. As he was about to improvise a nap while waiting his turn, his portable den den mushis rang.

"Vice-Admiral Smoker, I'm listening. » He said wearily.

The soldier at the other end of the line looked surprised to find the Vice Admiral and not the Captain. “Captain Tashigi is in a meeting, her calls are being redirected to me. If it's not urgent hang up ". Without further ado, the soldier hung up to the vice-admiral's delight.

1 hour later.

"I swear in front of Gol D Roger that if that damn den den mushi rings one more time I will blow his head against the wall." Grumbled the marine for the third time in a minute.

After an hour of waiting and 15 calls, the Vice Admiral was finally called into the room.

He almost tore his jacket from his back, put it violently on the desk while trying to keep his nerves and glared at the woman in front of him who remained unmoved.

"Vice Admiral Smoker, registration number XXXX, I need a new model 3 series AB size 98 jacket with option 13". Smoker had been clear, to the point, and hardly angry.

The woman, who was well into her fiftieth, looked at him indifferently.

“It doesn't work like that, vice-admiral. She said in a weary voice, as if she was talking to the first moron in the area.

Smoker struggled not to crush his cigars again but revised himself to think it would be difficult to face this without cigars.

"So how do you do in this case?" He asked sharply.

The woman didn't even bother to answer him, she just gave him a form. Smoker thought it was a big joke when he found himself with a five-page double-sided document in his hands.

" Are you kinding me ? Five fucking pages for a fucking jacket? Can't you just write 22 fucking words on a fucking post it note and talk about it? Bellowed the Vice Admiral who was already starting to turn to smoke in annoyance.

"Blblblbl, blblblbl, blbllb" The den den mushi began to ring, straining Smoker's last strength to stay calm.

" It's not my fault ". The woman began in a slow, boring voice.

Blblblbl, blbllblb, blbllb

"If you are too stupid"

Blblblb, blblbl, blbllb

"To complete a simple form"

Blblbllbbl, blblbl

"That even Kizaru gets to"

Blblbl, SCRATCH.

The vice-admiral's den den mushi flew across the room, finishing its course into the wall.

To the slow voice of the woman was added the tears of the den den mushi.

"FUCK OF," Smoker yelled as he stormed out of the room to make sure his fist didn't end up in the woman's face. He went out like a madman and locked himself in his office to try to find calm and serenity.

He grabbed a third cigar and after about ten minutes of relaxation began to fill out the damn form. He was only halfway through when the door to his office slammed open, knocking out the lustrous wood that had already received quite a few knocks.

"Ah my dear friend, I went to the infirmary and got you some medicine to lower your temperature. But beware, this is a suppository! ".

Smoker felt his heart stop beating when he saw the yellow admiral's face in front of his nose.

Blblblb, blbllb

"Oh my dear friend I think someone is trying to reach you on your stationary den den mushi. "

Blblblb, blbllb

"Maybe you should answer, maybe it's urgent, don't you think? "

Blblblbl, blbllb

Smoker had a vision. The den den mushi stuck, smeared with haki, right in the middle of the admiral's face, his nose bleeding.

It took phenomenal self-control for the vice-admiral not to reproduce his impulses. For the second time, he chooses to escape.

He took a pen with him to finish filling out the damn file that had become completely unreadable so much he had massacred it.

He found himself in front of the lingerie door, walked past all the soldiers and walked into the office. He barely had time to put a foot inside when he felt a stapler cross his face with its smoke.

"I DON'T THINK I CALLED YOUR NUMBER!" Yelled the woman who had "briefed" him earlier.

Smoker crushed the doorknob but stayed calm. He turned around, took a ticket from the machine, and sat down in the only seat available: the one next to Vice-Admiral Garp. "

Smoker sighed and prayed to all the gods that this old fool would leave him in peace.

So he settled down next to him and inspected him discreetly. He then realized that the old man's uniform was impeccably worn if the traces of grease were omitted from his shirt from all the donuts he had. But the Marineford hero wasn’t wearing socks.

"Don't ask questions kid." The grandfather simply told him when he met Smoker's gaze.

"Hey Smoker, I heard you're after my grandson. Did you know that when he was young he used to have fun sticking his finger up his nose to eat his boogers? Except that this stupid pirate, as he is elastic, he always ended up bleeding from the nose. Suddenly he would start screaming and running in all directions. Most of the time he would smash into a tree or a wall and fall apart, by the time the bleeding ended. Did you also know he got clean very late? I had to buy him pyjamas with an opening pocket on the buttocks because he never managed to undo his buttons and ended up pooping on himself? Ah and also the time when ”.

Smoker wanted to: die.

Blblblb, blbllbl

A mirage ? a hallucination?

"Vice-Admiral Garp, I'm listening. Ah hi Sengoku, how are you? A fishing trip? Now ? Ah I'm coming. By the way, don't you have pairs of socks to lend me? »And so the Vice Admiral disappeared through the maze of hallways, much to Smoker's delight.

It took no less than forty-five additional minutes of waiting for Smoker to finally put the damn file in the damn good drawer which, by chance again, was in building A and, as it happened, no administrative soldier was available to take the paper which he therefore had to deposit himself.

The same day, at 10 p.m.

"A call for you Vice Admiral Smoker." The bartender handed the den den mushi to the vice-admiral, who took a last sip of sake before answering.

"Good evening Vice-Admiral, I hope you had a good day! » Tashigi began. "I was wondering why you weren't answering den den mushi... I received an official document for you. It involves a fine for "disrespecting an administrative colleague" as well as a two-week ban from returning to the lingerie office. Is everything okay ”.

"I STILL PREFER TO WALK NAKED THAN TO RETURN TO THIS OFFICE".

#one piece #vice admiral smoker #monkey d garp #tashigi #Kizaru

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samanthadalton · 3 years

Text

Slowly falling (part 2)

part 2 is finally here!!! I hope y’all haven’t forgotten about this fic yet 😭

tw: there’s a bit of swearing

taglist: @cloud9in @alleycat97 @thedaft1 @mrs-avamontjoy @itszdavenport @iamsimpforpoppy @otakufangirl-12 @orisasay @justavampirefan @waterinathermostat @bloodkueen @sparklesoverlooked @alexlabhont @thepotatobleh added people who liked the post about me wanting to write this fic, if you wanna be added or taken off let me know 😊)

wordcount: 4.1k (i did not expect to write so much but i hope you guys enjoy)

part 1 is available here if you want a recap

“What the hell do you mean he dies?” Lily replies, dumbfounded.

“They find him guilty and execute him, what’s difficult to understand about that?” Kamilah snaps, the small cuts in her hand slowly healing as she shakes off the remaining fragments of glass onto the floor.

“But he’s innocent so he won’t die.”

“We can’t be too sure of that,” Kamilah mumbles. Her gaze flits over to Amy who has been silently absorbing all the information, a pensive look on her face. “It seems….” Kamilah sighs tiredly, “there may be some evidence against Adrian which affiliates him with tonight's events.”

“What evidence?” Amy counters, a hint of anger in her tone as she finally speaks out.

“I’m not sure, but Vega was… adamant about Adrian being a guilty party. He said all would be revealed at the trial.”

“Bullshit!” Amy cries out. “Kamilah you know Adrian, you know he would never do anything like this.”

“I agree, Adrian’s a stickler for the rules, there’s no way he orchestrated a massacre of vampires and humans,” Lily chimes in.

“Kamilah,” Amy ambles forward until she’s standing directly in front of the older vampire, “I know it’s not Adrian,” she says, her tone subtly indirecting the words of Nicole. The two stare at each other with such intensity until Kamilah breaks the eye contact, awkwardly glancing away.

“It doesn’t make sense to me either, it is rather peculiar as to how Vega already has evidence that incriminates Adrian.” Kamilah deliberates for a few moments, her brows slightly furrowed in thought until she nods with resolution, “I have a plan to extract the evidence Vega has in his possession but we only have one chance.”

“Anything,” Amy says with determination. Kamilah apprehends the conviction in Amy’s tone, feeling a slight pang in her chest as she revives the memory of her and Amy just a couple of hours prior, reminiscing about the sheer intimacy of the moment. But as she looks over at Amy now, she sees a fire burning in her eyes, one that is for her beloved brother, Adrian and not her. Kamilah builds back her icy exterior, reprimanding herself for letting it melt for a moment, especially for a mortal.

“Right. Well if Vega does have any incriminating evidence against Adrian our best bet is that he’s hiding it in his home office.”

“So we just need to hack into his computer?” Lily says condescendingly.

Kamilah raises an eyebrow at the young vampire, her expression impassive, “don’t be so presumptuous, it might cost us this plan,” she says reprimanding. Lily raises her hands up in a comical defenselessness manner, evoking a unimpressed look from the older vampire. “Right, let’s get down to business.” Kamilah takes a seat at her desk, and gestures towards the chairs in front of her, signalling for the two girls to sit. “Adam is holding a gala in three days which means that is our window of opportunity to extract the evidence he has against Adrian.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Vega is tagretting Adrian to begin with?” Amy asks, her tone perplexed, Kamilah in retort dismissively waves her hand at the girl, brushing away her concerns.

“Adam was always the more cautious one out of us all, I mean he’s a politician, it’s simply in his blood to want to clean up this mess as quickly and cleanly as possible.”

“So you’re saying that he’s only blaming Adrian because he’s an easy target?”

“Precisely, whatever evidence he claims to have we can easily challenge the allegations and prove Adrian is innocent.”

“So what does this have to do with the gala?” Lily chimes in.

“Adam is known to store his information in one place, which coincidentally is where the gala is being hosted.”

“His house,” Lily interrupts. Kamilah nods, her expression less irritated and more impressed.

“So what do we have to do?” Amy inquires.

“Lily, we will sneak into Adam’s office and use a hard drive to download the evidence. It will most likely be encrypted so you’ll have to use your,” Kamilah waves her hand, “technical skills to access whatever he has on it.”

“What about me?”

“Amy,” Kamilah gives the girl a long hard stare before speaking again, “you’ll be in the hall, our second eyes and ears on Vega, it’s imperative we act like everything is normal, we don’t want to raise any suspicion. Or give the council any reason to believe there’s foul play involved.”

Amy dejectedly nods at the older vampire, dismayed that Kamilah has only offered her a trivial task, but she remains silent knowing that this is all for Adrian.

……

The day of the gala arrives and Amy and Lily are in their apartment getting ready. When Amy enters the bathroom, she’s overwhelmed by the memory of Nicole and the recollection of the blood all over her hands and body. Amy begins trembling, her breaths becoming panicked and heavy as she clutches her hand over her chest, her body throbbing in torment. Within seconds, Lily speeds into the bathroom, her hands already on Amy’s waist steadying her, concern written all over her face.

“Hey, it’s okay, just breathe,” Lily rubs comforting circles across Amy’s back, her own voice becoming shaky as she watches her best friend break down into tears.

“Lily..I...can’t,” Amy says, her tone strangled as her breaths only quicken. Amy feels she’s about to pass out, until she’s thrown back into the memory of the night of the attack, her remembers the softness of Kamilah’s voice, the usual icy timbre of her voice completely gone as she gazes at the human, the soft tones calming her as she regains control. Amy recalls Kamilah’s breathing exercise, mimicking it many times until she’s able to string a sentence without palpitating.

“You okay?” Lily asks as she leads Amy to the edge of the bathtub, guiding her down to sit. Amy nods, her lips still trembling slightly. “You wanna talk about it?”

Amy shakes her head, “it’s just jitters I guess.”

“Okay,” Lily says, unconvinced as her vampire hearing hears the blip in Amy’s heartbeat but she doesn’t press on the issue. “Are you sure you wanna go tonight? If you want we can stay home and play call of duty or something.”

“No,” Amy sniffles, “we have to do this, for Adrian, Kamilah, they’re depending on us.”

“In that case, you wanna see the dresses Kamilah sent us?” Amy chuckles and nods and takes Lily’s hand and the vampire guides her into the living room to show her the long evening gowns that are for them.

“Wow,” Amy says entranced, her fingers graze the dress that is meant for her, the dress being the perfect mix of sophisticated but sexy. The elegant black with a plunging v-neckline, with a slit in the leg showing off the perfect amount of leg, “Kamilah did a good job.”

“Well girl knows how to dress so I’m not surprised.” The girls spend the next couple of hours getting ready and when they leave their apartment they see a limo waiting for them.

“Wow, remind me to thank Kamilah Ames,” Lily jumps in the backstreet and pops open a bottle of champagne that is sitting in the mini fridge and begins drinking from the bottle. “You want some?” Amy politely shakes her head declining.

“Sadly my tolerance for alcohol isn’t as high as yours Lil.”

“Perks of being a vampire I guess,” Lily takes another huge swig from the bottle.

……

Once they arrive at Senator Vega’s mansion, the girls notice Kamilah waiting at the entrance, a restless expression on her face. The older vampire senses the girls’ arrival and turns her head around to see Amy and Lily leaving the limo, her gaze drifts down to the human’s figure, a faint smile on her lips. ‘The dress fits her perfectly’ Kamilah thinks as she assesses her curves, her legs, she hears the faint beating of Amy’s heart, how it’s beating faster than usual, most likely to do with nerves.

As she steps out of the limo, Amy is in awe, she gawks at the front gates of Senator Vega’s home, dazzled by the mansion. Her eyes wander over to the front where she sees Kamilah wearing a very red and pretty revealing dress. Her eyes helplessly roams the vampire’s body, taken by how breathtakingly beautiful she is.

“Ames I see Kamilah,” Lily gives her friend a slight nudge pushing her out of her daze.

“Uh yeah,” Amy nods and links her arm with Lily’s and walks up the pathway towards the older vampire. Lily lets out a low whistle when she’s face to face with Kamilah.

“Damn, you look hot Kamilah.” A faint smile tugs at the corner of Kamilah’s lips as her eyes meet Amy’s.

“I see the dresses were in good taste,” her gaze deftly lowers to Amy’s chest before meeting her eyes again.

“They’re beautiful Kamilah, thank you,” Amy responds, her hands ghosting to the front of her dress, soothing out the creases. A few other guests begin making their way into the house, and Kamilah’s expression sobers, seriousness washing all over her as she leans in to whisper to the girls.

“It is imperative that we integrate ourselves into this party and draw no attention to ourselves,” her gaze flits to Lily, a stern look on her face. In retort, Lily gulps and gives Kamilah a nervous smile, “when it’s time I will signal to you and Lily and I will obtain the evidence. Now come on, it looks suspicious with us loitering in the front.” Kamilah begins walking into the house, leaving Amy and Lily to follow behind.

“Game face girl,” Lily nods to Amy before walking through the front door. As they make their way in, the faint playing of a string quartet comes from the grand hall, as waiters greet the girls and lead them into the hall where it is filled with people dancing, laughing, eating.

“Oooh there’s a bar, Ames do you want a drink?”

Amy shakes her head, “I’m good Lil, I’ll grab us a table.” Amy takes her way through the hall, she recognises some of the faces, ‘there are a lot of vampires’ she thinks to herself. Her eyes roam the space, no sign of Vega yet. Just as she finds an empty table, a hand grips her shoulder tightly, forcing her to turn to face to figure.

“Mmm, you look.. delicious,” Priya seductively licks her lips, a devilish glint in her eyes.

“Ow, you’re hurting me,” Amy grunts, which only spurs Priya to dig her fingers into Amy’s shoulder more.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little pain darling,” she leans in close to Amy, her lips ghosting hers. Intimidated by the smell of blood that lingers from Priya, Amy takes a half step back. “You’re afraid,” Priya states with a hint of playfulness, in her voice, “now that Adrian is locked up, I guess you’re in need of a new boss.” She leans in again once more, “the ways I could just break you-”

“That’s enough Priya.” The voice comes booming from behind the vampire, Amy’s gaze moves to see Kamilah frowning behind Priya.

“Come on grandma, we’re just having some fun.”

Kamilah hums in response, “so are you having fun?”

“Huh?” Amy says, a hint of worriness in her tone.

“Are you having fun?” Kamilah asks. Amy shakes her head no, “the girl gave you her answer, now let her go.” Priya sighs, retracting her hand from Amy’s shoulder, leaving a series of small bruises.

“Always killing my vibe,” the vampire sighs as she stalks off to harass more patrons.

“Are you okay?” Kamilah asks, her brow slightly furrowed as she looks at the state of Amy’s shoulder, Amy’s hand subconsciously moves to grasp her shoulder, rubbing at the wound.

“I’m okay.”

Kamilah nods hesitantly. “Lily told me about what happened in the bathroom,” for a second, Amy looks at the vampire quizzically until it hits her, when she realises she scrunches her face up in anger.

“She had no right.”

“She’s worried, she has no idea that you’re spiralling.”

“I’m not spiralling!” Amy raises her voice causing a few guests around them to look over at the exchange.

Kamilah on the other hand keeps a straight face, her tone ever wavering, “well I’m not going to force you to talk about anything but just keep in mind that it’s never easy dealing with it alone.” She turns to walk away but looks over her shoulder, “trust me I know.” She walks away leaving the human alone to let her words settle in.

As the night goes on, Vega finally makes an appearance but Kamilah keeps the girls on standby, not being able to find her window of opportunity. Amy and Lily dance with each other for a while to let the time go by as Kamilah consorts with the other guests, not paying any attention to Amy or Lily other than the occasional glance at Amy to see her enjoying herself with Lily. The tapping of glass, silences the guests focusing their attention on Vega who stands at the front of the room with a wide grin on his face.

“Esteemed guests, I thank you for being here tonight, to celebrate...well me.” The guests all share a small chuckle as Vega drones on with his speech. Kmailah shares a conspiratorial look with Lily and Amy and subtly nods her head towards the doors of the halls. The girls slip out with discretion and meet with Kamilah who’s glancing down impatiently at her watch.

“Quickly we don’t have enough time, Amy remember you are our eyes and ears, Lily you are with me.” Lily gives the older vampire a nod in response.

“About that, there’s a problem.” Lily raises a hand gingerly.

“And you’re telling me about this now?” Kamilah grits her teeth.

Lily raises her hands defensively, “I didn’t raise any attention.” Kamilah raises an eyebrow at the girl, “it’s nothing major, it’s just Vega has this security protocol put into place near his office.”

“What is it?”

“Motion sensors.”

Kamilah rubs her fingers on her temples, “so what do we do?”

“I can probably disable them but i have to do it from outside the office, which means I can’t come with you.”

“I can go,” Amy squeaks out.

“No,” Kamilah bluntly responds.

“Why not?

“If I listed all the reasons, we would lose our window.”

“Kamilah I’m going with you, I don’t care what you have to say about it. The more time you waste trying to pointlessly argue with me, the more time we waste trying to get the evidence,” Amy stubbornly begins walking down the hall and Kamilah sighs before following her.

“I’ll be close by but here,” Lily hands Kamilah the hard drive before giving her a salute, “let’s go save our boy.”

Once Kamilah and Amy get into the office, Kamilah stalks up to Vega’s computer, plugging in the hard drive, “crap, his files are encrypted.”

“Didn’t we expect that?”

Without looking up from the computer Kamilah replies, “yes but it’s more than I thought so Lily will have her work cut out for her. Now watch the door.”

Amy obediently moves towards the door, keeping it slightly ajar to look through. “Kamilah?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you want me to come with you?”

Kamilah doesn’t answer, keeping her focus on uploading the files, Amy frowns before asking more loudly, as if her volume was the issue, “why didn’t you want me here Kamilah?”

Kamilah sighs, her eyes look up from the screen to look up at Amy, “because you’re a distraction.”

“I’m a distraction?”

“That is what I said isn’t it?”

“Why?”

Kamilah shrugs her shoulders, visibly getting more frustrated, “you’re not in your right mind Amy, with all this Nicole business, I can tell you’re distracted.”

Amy balls up her fists before stalking up to the desk, “I’m sorry if ki-, if taking someone’s life is messing me up. But I keep reliving the moment over and over again, and I can’t seem to forget it. So fuck it, I’m not really sorry.”

“Are you done?” Amy sighs heavily, nodding her head. “I get it Amy, I understand how hard it can be taking someone’s life.”

“But you told me it gets easier.”

“Yes, I’m also 2000 years old, of course it gets easier.”

“Well I don’t have 2000 years, Kamilah. I’m having panic attacks almost every day, I can’t sleep, I can barely eat. Everytime I close my eyes I can just see her body.”

Kamilah stands up from the chair and walks over to Amy, she looks down to see Amy’s balled up fist and contemplates taking it in her hands, but she pushes the thought of her mind and looks directly into the girl’s eyes, “I know it’s hard to believe, but you did a good thing. Nicole was a bad person. I mean I’ve personally always despised her. She was always too uptight for me.” Amy’s lips quirk up into a small smile, “what?”

“You calling Nicole upright is just ironic.”

“Oh hush.” The girls share a smile but the moment is quickly interrupted by the computer making a beeping sound and Kamilah twists her head to look down on the screen. “It’s almost finished downloading, Amy, watch the door.”

“Oh right,” Amy moves back to the door, keeping an eye out. “Crap, Kamilah!”

“What?”

“Vega! He’s walking up.”

“Damn, we still have a minute left until the files are downloaded.”

Amy runs up to the desk next to Kamilah, “we have like 10 seconds.” Amy freezes for a second for throwing her arms around Kamilah, “please don’t kill me.” She presses her lips against the vampire, pulling her in for a kiss just as the door of the office swings open. Amy feels forlorn when Kamilah doesn’t reciprocate the kiss, but just as she’s about to pull away, Kamilah places her hands around Amy’s waist, eliminating the space between them. The kiss builds up very quickly as Kamilah takes the lead, slightly pushing Amy against the desk, as her tongue tangles up with the human’s but when Vega lets out a loud cough, the two girls quickly break apart.

“Senator Vega!”

“Adam.” Vega offers the two women a small smile, “I apologize for the intrusion in your office but Amy and I wanted a place where we could,” she awkwardly glances at the girl, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, “fraternize together.”

Amy stealthily glances at the screen and sees there’s still 30 seconds until the file is finished downloading so she swings her arms and ‘accidentally’ knocks over a few of the papers on Vega’s desk. “Senator Vega I’m so sorry, let me pick them up for you.”

“That’s okay Miss Parker.”

“No, no I insist.” Amy sits on the floor and begins to gather up the papers, she subtly nods her head to Kamilah, who begins moving towards Adam who stands near the door.”

“Adam, I again apologise.”

Vega raises his hand, “no, no I understand. Sometimes we all have...feelings we have to express. I just didn’t think you would go for Adrian’s girl so fast,” he speaks casually, his usual politician grin plastered on his face, but as his eyes bore into Kamilah, the older vampire can see the animosity inside of them.

In response Kamilah keeps her poker face, and retorts, “hmm, well Amy is a grown woman, she can consort with whoever she pleases.”

Adam places his hand over his heart, “ah of course, I meant no offence.”

“Got it!” Amy stands giving the two vampires a wide smile, “I may have messed up the order of those papers, I hope they weren’t in chronological order Senator.”

“No need to worry, I’m sure I can sort it out.”

“Right well we should be getting back to the party, Amy?” Kamilah glances over her shoulder to the human, “shall we?” Amy nods and begins walking out of the door, just as Kamilah is about to follow, Vega lightly grabs her arm.

“I’m glad to see you opening yourself up to someone, I feel like it’s been a long time.” Vega gives the older vampire a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and Kamilah politely nods her head before leaving the office.

Just as her and Amy turn the corner, in a flash, she pushes the human against the wall, her eyes red, “I said don’t kill me!” Amy cries out.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m sorry! I panicked. Vega was so close and I didn’t want him to suspect us so I did the thing they do in movies.” Kamilah stares intensely into Amy’s eyes, her gaze setting Amy alight. After a few moments, she blinks and her eyes return back to its normal color and she removes her hand from Amy.

“Right. Well did you get the hard drive?”

Amy pulls it out of her bra, “yup.”

“Good. Give that to Lily as soon as you can. We’ll need to stay at this party for a while to not raise any suspicion.” Kamilah stalks off and enters the hall without a second glance. Amy exhales heavily, her back still pressed up against the wall, she raises her fingers and begins tracing the outline of her lips, reminiscing about the kiss.

When she enters the hall, she looks around and spots Lily near the buffet and sidles up to her, “hey girl, where were you?”

“Just needed a moment to myself.”

“So how did it go?”

“Oh yeah,” Amy pulls out the hard drive, placing it in Lily’s hand, “this is for you.”

“Oooh it’s warm.” Lily places it into her bag before turning her attention to the food. “You hungry?”

“Very.”

The girls scope out the buffer, collecting mountains of food before sitting down on a table.

“Why is Kamilah staring at you like that?”

“Huh?” Just as Amy turns her head to look at the vampire, Kamilah sneakily turns her head to focus on the people in front of her. “She’s not staring.”

“Uhh yes she is or was. Did something happen?”

Amy shifts in her seat until she’s facing Lily, “yes but don’t freak out. We kissed.”

“WHAT!”

“Lily, I said don’t freak out!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Lily squeals louder. Lily leans in whispering, “so what happened?” Amy gives Lily the details of the kiss but then recollects the hostility Kamilah had in regards to the kiss.

“So was it good?”

Amy shrugs her shoulders, “it was different. I don’t know how to describe it but it felt good.”

“Oh my god, you’re totally crushing on her.”

“I’m not! And even if I was I doubt she feels the same.”

“I doubt that.”

Amy huffs, “Lil, she hasn’t been with anyone in a hundred years and she barely ever gets close to anyone to begin with. What makes you think she’s going to fall for a human?”

Lily answers with a smile, internally knowing that Kamilah has been listening to the entire conversation from across the room as she feels the older vampire's gaze burning into them.

After a few more songs by the quartet is played, the announce they’re about to play their one last song, Kamilah appears out of thin air and raises her hand towards Amy, “indulge me?”

“I thought you don’t dance.”

“Well Vega has been watching us like a hawk, if we are to sell the idea that we are….”

“I think the word you used was fraternizing.”

“Yes, well we should at least have one dance.” Amy slides her hand into Kamilah’s and lets her guide her onto the dancefloor. Kamilah places one hand on Amy’s hip while her other interlocks with Amy’s and the girls glide smoothly on the floor. As they dance, Amy and Kamilah’s eyes bore into each other’s, the atmosphere almost becomes dense with anticipation as they find themselves moving closer to each other, as the seconds pass. Just as Kamilah’s lips are hovering over Amy's, the song finishes and the crowd begins applauding, the sudden sound jerking them apart.

“Thank you for the dance Kamilah.’

“Of course,” Kamilah nods and Amy and steps back a little, putting a little distance between them.

Lily saunters to the two girls, “so can we go now?”

“Yes, I believe the night is over.” Just as the women begin to exit, a vampire from Kamilah’s clan approaches her, whispering in her ear. “Excuse me, Adam requests an audience.”

“Is everything okay?” Amy asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“I hope so.”

After a few moments, Kamilah returns, her face etched into a scowl.

“So what happened?” Lily inquires.

“It seems the rest of the council had a meeting without me and they’ve changed the date of Adrian’s trial.”

“So when is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

#playchoices #bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound kamilah

87 notes · View notes

league-of-thots · 4 years

Text

The Bee’s Knees

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

A/N: pretty happy with how this turned out! pretty nasty though so please read the warnings carefully. thanks @lady-bakuhoe for checking it over!

(sorry for double post it got fucked up on mobile :/)

Warnings: Smut, gun play, violence, dub-con, oral

taglist: @ikinabi, @redbeanteax, @marilla-eldriana, @kittykatkrissa

You’d always had a bit of a boring life. While your friends had been out at speakeasies and dancing with men and woman through the night, you’d had to take care of your little sewing shop. Repairing and making fine clothing you couldn’t afford wasn’t what you’d choose to do if you could, but it was what you had to do to keep yourself fed and safe.

You lived in a decent part of town, although that didn’t stop you from hearing gunshots every few nights between the law and the mafia. But then again, nowhere was completely safe from the mafia, especially with the bosses at the helm now. All of them were young, violent and eager to expand their territory and prove their worth, and the state of the city and surrounding areas were proof of that. But, nothing bad ever really happened to you, so you often ignored it and did what you wanted on your own time.

However, one day your entire life changed just from simply meeting Katsuki Bakugou, one of the new mafia bosses who’d come to power recently.

It had been a normal Tuesday night, except for the fact that you’d ran out of bread. Something so simple and you- albeit annoyed- went to the store despite it already being night. Getting there and getting your bread had been simple, it was getting home that had changed your life.

On a shortcut to get back to your little shop and home as quick as possible, you passed into an alleyway. Where you happened to run into three people, a blonde with his suit all messed up, someone with bright red hair and a lanky black haired man with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Oh my god- they were all standing around a bloody and beaten body. You drop your purse in surprise and they all turn around sharply to face you. Not caring that you’d be leaving behind money and belongings, you run as fast as you can the opposite way, trying to get to a main street.

You hear them yelling behind you, telling you to stop but all you can think of is that they’re criminals, worst case they’re mafia, and you need to get away.

But they’re bigger, faster and stronger than you are. The red haired one catches up to you first, and he grabs your arm before you can get more than a block away. You try to scream, but as soon as your mouth opens up, his large hand prevents you from screaming and breathing too. You can hear them muttering about what they should do with you as your air supply is completely depleted and you start to black out.

You return to consciousness in perhaps the worst way possible, your headache from being choked out being exaggerated by the really loud yelling coming from a new man in front of the three you’d seen in the alleyway. You shake your head a little as you get your bearings and realize there's duct tape covering your mouth, and ropes tying your limbs to the chair you’re sat on. You begin screaming but the sound is muffled as because of the restraint covering your lips.

Two of the three glance back in your direction which seems to anger the leader who snaps in their faces and starts to yell at them.

“So you accidentally killed the mark instead of subduing them, and on top of that brought back some fucking worthless extra that now I have to find out what to do with. YOU’RE ALL MORONS. GET OUT!”

The three scurry out of the office and he kicks over a stray chair, cursing loudly and sitting behind his desk. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of him. Despite your fear and the obvious lack of self restraint and loud anger he exhibits, you notice he’s gorgeous and has a way of speaking that seems to draw people and energy towards him.

“What are you looking at extra? Hah?” He snaps at you. You just look at him wide eyed and shake your head, showing that you don’t mean anything by it. He snorts and rolls his eyes, and goes back to his paperwork.

You feel incredulous and can’t believe that, after all the fuss he just pulled he straight up ignores the fact that he has a live human captive in his office. You shook your head. How the hell were you supposed to get out of here? Your fear was starting to disappear and in its place annoyance was quickly surging up. You were tired, needed to sleep and had to wake up early tomorrow to get your shop in order. Yet you couldn’t even speak to the man because of the tape across your mouth. So you decide to grab his attention, and the first step of that was making as much noise as you could through the gag. Which unfortunately, wasn’t much. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

So you decided to make a larger uproar, and start shaking on your chair - which was great for making noise, however for staying upright, not so much. You clatter to the floor with a loud crash and let out a grunt of pain as your head hits the floor, your vision a bit blurry.

“What the fuck are you doing? Seriously?” The man in charge yells and starts stomping towards you and you wince in fear as he approaches. He pulls you and the chair upright by a firm grip on your hair, close to your scalp. At this point you’re crying from pain and a little bit of fear and embarrassment. “What do you want?” he asks, even though you can’t answer. You just look up to him with watery eyes, fucking helpless in the current situation..

He curses a bit looking at you, “You know I should just get this over and done with and kill you.” he says, almost conversationally. “You saw something you shouldn’t have and I need to tie up the loose ends of my business. Can’t be on top if we’ve gotten ratted out by a little lady y’know.” His grin is sharp, it reminds you of a wolf. Despite the situation and how close you are to death, you can’t help but be aroused by both his determined attitude and gorgeous features.

Suddenly he rips off the tape gagging you, and you let out a sob in response to the quick pain that burns around your mouth. “If you’re going to kill me, why are you playing around with me so much?” you ask, a little confused.

He just lets out a laugh. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve even been around an upstanding lady such as yourself? Your reactions to things are so refreshing, everything's new and terrifying for you.”

You can hear your heart hammering in your throat as he pulls a pistol out of his pocket and holds it up to your forehead. Your eyes cross as you desperately try to keep the muzzle in sight, even if you know that it won’t make a difference.

“I promise I won’t say anything to anyone! I just don’t want to die, I have friends, I have a job, please, please don’t kill me!” You start pleading with him and straining against the restraints on your arms and wrists, crying because these could be the last few moments of your life.

He cocks his head to the side, emotionless, staring down at you from above - the light from a lamp hits his face as it turns, lighting up his blood-red eyes. When he smiles you feel as if you’ve already signed off on your death sentence, until he starts laughing so hard he has to bend over. It’s an ugly cackle but you’re too shocked at the rapid switch in behaviour to do or say anything about it.

“Oh my god- this is actually a great opportunity, I didn’t even think about it really, but - yeah alright. I’ll give you a choice, what’s your name?” he doesn’t wait for a response. “You let me use you how I please right now or die.”

What kind of choice did you have really? This was your only chance to see another sunrise, to see another normal day.

“Alright.” you get out, the word sounding sad and broken as it leaves your lips. At your agreeance, he backs off to his desk, placing the pistol down and opening a few drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. Out he pulls a wooden case. Inside another pistol, but this one is clean, more delicate looking and has a longer muzzle. He pulls some bullets from the case that it was in and loads the gun, one at a time, making eye contact with you.

What could he be doing with that? You think as he slowly walks towards the chair where you’re tied up, eyes stuck on his. He shoves the muzzle into your face.

“Open up sweetheart, this will go easy or fucking hard depending on your actions.” he smirks poking your lips with the barrel. You feel your teeth cutting against your lips as you resolutely close them. You aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of making this easy for him.

At least that’s what you think until you feel a blooming pain on the side of your cheekbone, the bastard had pistol whipped you and your mouth fell open in a scream. You feel something cold and metal shoved deep into your throat and you gagged harshly.

“I said, fucking OPEN bitch.” he seethes, shoving the gun deeper and you feel your air supply drastically restricted. “Now be a good girl and suck the gun off, my trigger finger is a bit itchy today.”

Sobbing in embarrassment, you begin to bob your head up and down the gun, shaking in fear. You close your eyes rather than have to look at the sick fascination on the man’s face as he sees you work the gun. You know he’s getting hard because of this and as much as you hate the situation you can feel your arousal growing knowing that he’s likely going to fuck you well.

A few minutes pass, the only sounds being wet noises as you blow the gun, the metallic taste of steel taking over your mouth and combined with your fear, making you want to vomit.

“Enough.” he says suddenly, and you drop your mouth open and take deep breaths trying to steady yourself as he takes it out. You open your eyes and feel your heartbeat race as he pulls out a knife in his left hand. You flinch as he brings it to your lower half, but instead of cutting into you, he instead uses it to rip through all your clothing and tears it off. He smirks as he looks at your cunt quivering as the cool air hits it.

“What’s this? Have you been hiding your enjoyment through your tears?” he leans down putting his face near yours and the gun beside up to your head as his fingers ghost across your lower lips. You bite your lip, you’re not allowing yourself to feel pleasured by this. He sees the determination in your eyes and smiles, always excited for any challenge that crosses his path.

He knows he always wins of course.

You feel him enter a calloused finger into your pussy, the slight stretch making you take a sharp breath as he moves it in and out, occasionally curling the digit. Against your will, your body responds to him, hips moving as much as they can while you’re restrained. When he deems you ready, he adds a second in, scissoring them to open you up. His thumb plays with your clit and you let out small whimpers as you feel your core heat up and start to tighten.

“You like me playing with your pretty pussy, don’t you? No matter how much you try to deny it, I can feel you tightening around my fingers, and I can see your eyes start to dilate.” as much as you want to shout that he’s wrong, you know he’s write. You’re not sure if you hate him or yourself more in that moment.

He suddenly pulls his fingers out and looks at you as you whine needily. “Wanna be full again? I have the perfect idea.” he puts the gun on a hook as he takes out the knife again and cuts the restraints on your arms. Immediately you reach to claw at any bit of him you can reach, but he grabs your hands and lets out a tsk in disappointment.

“I thought you were smarter than that. Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” he manages to hold your wrists together in one hand as he gives you a strong backhand across your face with the other, dazing you. Blearily, you realize he’s tied your two wrists together and cut off your leg restraints. He puts your tied arms behind his head and lifts you with one arm, as he picks up the gun once again and brings you to sit on his lap in his large leather desk chair.

He leans back with a self satisfied sigh as he moves his legs to spread yours further apart, watching as some of your juices drip out of your cunt.

“I want you to listen very carefully,” he says lowly, his voice a growl in your ear that makes you shiver. “What’s going to happen is that I’m going to put this pretty loaded gun up your pussy, and you’re going to get yourself off. If you can’t do that within a couple minutes, I might get impatient and pull the trigger. Got it, sweetheart?”

What else can you do but nod? You have no idea if you can even get yourself off only on penetration with the fear holding you stiff, but if you want to live you’re going to have to do it somehow. You clench in surprise as the cool metal is ruthlessly shoved into you without warning, letting out a moan.

His eyes are on you as you gradually start moving your hips into the gun, feeling it reach deep. His wrist moves in time with your movements, helping you out a bit. You try and force out the entire situation and the fear from your mind, focusing on the sensations. The cool metal providing you some sharp pleasure as you pump yourself up and down the muzzle.

You whimper as you start grinding down faster feeling one of the ridges on the weapon hit your clit every time you bring yourself down on it. You lose track of everything as you shut your eyes and lean your head into the man’s neck. He smells almost as good as he looks and you just let yourself go, losing track of time. You enjoy the sensations and soon enough you bring yourself to the edge.

You can hear yourself whimpering and cum with a shout, your juices flowing down the metal and onto his hand. You open your eyes after feeling spent, as he takes the gun out and sends it clattering onto the table. Making eye contact with you, he lewdly slurps the juices from his hand into his mouth.

“Sweeter than I thought. What a good girl you are for doing it right.” He says stroking your face rather condescending. “Now it’s my turn.”

He unbuckles his belt and shimmies them down as he stands up holding you in his arms. He then drops you onto his cock without warning, as you scream from pain and pleasure as he fills your needy cunt.

He chuckles, the sound much deeper than before. “That’s right I want to fucking hear you scream, better yet I’ll give you a name to scream out. Katsuki Bakugou.”

He lifts you almost off his cock and slams you down again, thrusting as you come down making you see stars. Soon you’re only crying his name out as you card your fingers through his hair and tug as you lose sense of everything else but the feeling of his cock in you.

“You take my cock so fucking well sweetheart, I haven’t even found a whore this good.” He practically cackles, speeding up his pace as he chases his own release. He slams your back onto the desk and you howl as your back arches, the pleasure he’s giving you covering up the pain of your body being banged up.

You cum shouting out his name, clamping down on his cock as he releases his load deep into you and takes heaving breaths.

He pulls out and lifts your arms over his head as he gets his clothing back on and straightens out his shirt. You want to move, run, get away, but you can’t bring yourself to even move. The most you can do is blink the tears out of your eyes and blearily look up to him.

“So now I can go right?” You ask, your voice shaking. “You said I could live if you fucked me.”

He just laughs. “I said you could live, I didn’t say your were leaving sweetheart.”

You wail as your heart drops and you realize just how utterly fucked you are.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #tw: dubious consent #tw: violence #tw: gun play #smut #jays writes

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staticevent · 3 years

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a... recap, kinda

so I’ve never made an end-of-the-year text post like this until now, while it’s still 2020 where I am (it’ll be 2021 in like, 5 minutes), I’d like to make one. (under read more bc. this is long)

to start off simply and to get the ugly stuff over with; I haven’t drawn a lot this year. In fact, 2020 is my least productive year on this blog in my almost-8 years of having it and is the first year I’ve actually taken an extended hiatus, and to put it even more simply, this has been an Extremely difficult year for me, (even disregarding everything that made 2020 generally terrible for literally everyone else). the most major blow in my life this year is the loss of my grandfather, someone very close and dear to me this year (as some of you might remember) and who’s the entire reason I began drawing; I’d not only lost him, I was with him, all by myself, and I watched him die. on top of that, my financial situation at home has struggled the entirety of this year, and plus there’s been a Deluge of family issues (which I would. really rather not get into here), and in general 2020 has been... one struggle after another.

needless to say, my mental health was affected, which in turn affected my productivity. the burnout was so heavy that, as I’d stated in my hiatus post, I couldn’t even bring myself to draw things for my friends. my self-esteem started to drop, and it turned into a vicious cycle; I drew less because of low self-esteem, but drawing less made my self-esteem dip even lower, because i felt that drawing was the One thing i was good at/for, and that i had to justify my existence through my art, and when I didn’t draw, I felt useless. i started intentionally not taking my medication, depriving myself of sleep until I could feel my body pretty much failing; self-harming as a means of punishing myself. Let me absolutely stress the fact that this was absolute No One’s fault, not my followers, not my friends, no one; this was a battle I was fighting purely against myself, and was losing.

but, now onto the whole point of this post. I’ve received an Overwhelming amount of support and kindness from both followers and strangers, something I Never expected to get when I started this blog; I’ve gotten so many kind comments/tags/etc on my work, tags saying that my work cheered them up, tags thanking me for drawing something. said support is part of what motivates me to continue drawing; when I draw, my primary goal is to make people happy, sad (in a non-malicious way of course), excited; to just have Some kind of impact in someone’s life, to feel like I’m not just taking up space. but, while this is Very important to me, there was something I was losing sight of, and that was making Myself happy.

however, as just one example of this kind of encouragement I got, when I first made the memorial post for my grandfather, I’ll be completely honest, I hadn’t expected to receive any condolences, and I’d felt that I was doing something wrong by showing Human Emotions on my art blog, but I’d received dozens of messages/replies showing understanding, and that, along with the response I got to my hiatus announcement and comfort from my friends, made me realize something; people genuinely care about me as a person, and being productive shouldn’t be at the cost of my mental health, and once I fully understand that, I know that creating art will bring me the joy and comfort that it brought me 7 years ago, and that is my most important New Year’s resolution, and I fully intend to work toward it.

and, to any artist (or content creator in general) who’s reading this and going through a rough time and suffering burnout: it’s ok to take breaks. it’s ok to be honest with yourself, you aren’t a Bad Artist for being human. I promise you, the Right People will understand, will give you space, will support you no matter what, and anyone who’d shame you for needing time and space isn’t worth keeping around.

so, to end this loooong ramble... 2020 has been hard, but I survived, and my will to keep creating has survived, and I thank each and every one of you for your continued support and encouragement, and, most importantly, for reminding me of something I’ve forgotten; that I’m a human being too, that my art is a part of me, part of what makes me happy, and that’s something I should never give up on.

anyway, onward to 2021, and i’ll see you all there!! 🌹

#misc stuffs #tw death #tw self harm #if yall could drop a like or reply etc if you read this if you can i'd appreciate it #this is like all over the place but. Yeah

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septembercfawkes · 3 years

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Crafting Convergence

The concept of convergence is something I wish I was introduced to earlier in my writing journey, which is why I'm writing this post to introduce it to you now. I first ran into the concept a little more than a year ago (why so late in my journey? 🧐), and it's been in the back of my mind a lot lately.

Don't get me wrong, I've heard convergent-related ideas--like ticking time bombs and deadlines--before, but they were never connected to the broader concept of "convergence."

"To converge" means to meet at a point, incline toward each other, or to come to a common conclusion.

I also think of it as having a kind of collision.

In crafting our stories, we often want a degree of convergence.

Convergence is about getting the audience to look ahead to a specific moment that promises a (potential) collision. This is very effective on the plot level, as it draws the audience into the story and keeps them around as they anticipate that collision.

So how do we bring convergence into our plot?

In his book, The Structure of Story, Ross Hartmann breaks down different ways we can do just that.

Limited by Time

We can get the audience to anticipate a future event by restricting time.

This might be something like a deadline. (My capstone presentation is due on Monday.)

It might be a countdown. (We gotta defuse the bomb before it reaches zero.)

Or it might be something like having to save Christmas before Christmas morning.

As Hartmann points out, the audience typically needs to be able to envision the potential consequences. If we don't fix X on Christmas Eve, Christmas could be ruined. If we do fix X on Christmas Eve, Christmas could be saved. (This is how I like to think of stakes, with my favorite "If . . . then . . ." approach.)

When the audience can imagine the different significant outcomes, they get invested in the story and are drawn in by anticipation.

Sometimes the potential consequences can be left out to create mystery (but keep in mind that in order for this to work, there needs to be some drive. If the audience is left with little to no context for most of the story, the story isn't usually effective).

As time begins to run out, the situation begins to feel more intense. And having the characters struggle up until the last moment is usually a good idea.

The time may not always be a set time so to speak, but a near-future event. For example, in Star Wars, the Rebellion needs to succeed before the Death Star is fully operational. This is still a concern of time. It's just that it's a countdown to an event, rather than an explicit day, hour, or minute. Each Death Star update draws us closer to the end.

Diminishing Resources

But really, time is just a type of resource. So another way to create essentially the same effect, is to have a diminishing resource.

This might be fuel.

It might be food, water, or oxygen.

It might be money.

It might be blood.

It might be ammunition.

As the resource becomes more and more depleted, the situation becomes more and more intense. As Hartmann says, we are "forcing the stakes." The stakes must draw closer as the resource gets lower.

He also points out we might show the lack of resource explicitly, like with a measuring device (such as a gas gauge), but it can also be dramatized, such as characters stuck on a raft that is heading toward a waterfall (where distance is the resource).

Again, ideally, the resource should be continuing to diminish, which creates a sense of urgency. If it stays the same the whole time or even goes the other direction, that lessens the intensity (though perhaps in some situations at the right time, that might be what you are going for).

The longer you can hold off a resolution, as the resource continues to diminish, the more intense the moment becomes.

(Arguably, being limited by a resource also overlaps with time, in the sense that once you run out of the resource, you run out of time.)

Driven by Destination

Convergence can also be created through a set destination. In The Land Before Time, it's established that Littlefoot and his friends must make it to the Great Valley (aka, paradise), and they must survive a perilous journey to get there. The audience sticks around to see if they succeed. Similarly, In Dante's Inferno, there is a spiraling path into the depths of Hell, with the destination being the ninth circle.

Hartmann explains that we can also create a sense of convergence by showing two characters journeying to the same place. As an audience, we watch as each person draws closer and closer, and we anticipate each character's arrival.

Even something like a map is effective, as it conveys to the audience that there is a place the character is moving toward.

On the flip side, I'd like to add that the arrival of a threat works too. Rather than the protagonist going, it could be an antagonist coming.

Convergence can work well at any structural level--scene, sequence, act, or overall plot.

When the audience has the promise of a future moment, it sets up a sense of direction.

And as writers, we want to give the audience a sense of direction.

Because remember, often what's effective isn't having no idea of what's going to happen, but not knowing which is going to happen. Even if you want to be "surprising," the most effective surprises are ones where different expectations have been set up. (More on that concept here.)

Once we have promised convergence, we want to remind the audience of the impending moment (without going overboard of course). Elsewhere, I have heard this referred to as giving the audience forewarnings--we want to show that we are getting closer to a definitive moment that forces significant stakes. In Back to the Future, people disappearing from a family photograph is used to remind the audience of an impending moment, the instance where Marty no longer exists.

In an early draft of my first novel, I made the mistake of undercutting and diminishing convergence, in part because it felt too formulaic and like a "convention" to me (you know how writers can be about such things in the beginning). What I didn't understand is that it's part of good storytelling--whether it's the journey to pirate treasure, making it to the end of the school year, stopping the permanent affects of a curse, meeting an application deadline, saving Christmas, preparing for the arrival of a dragon, or running out of water.

Beyond that, I also feel that convergence plays a wider role; in a well-structured story, you'll see that multiple elements of the story will come together and "converge" during or near the climax. For example, often the internal conflict, the external conflict, the thematic conflict, and (in some cases) even the relationship conflict or societal conflict or nature conflict, will all come to a point at the climax of a story, for maximum impact. Similarly, the climax often marries the "Ordinary World" with the "Special World." But I don't want to muddy the concept too much today! As that's sort of a different school of thought on the concept.

#writing tips #Writing tips and tricks #Writeblr #writing help #fanfic #nanowrimo #plotting #convergence #writer #editor #author

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iamtaekooked · 4 years

Text

↳Genre: Angst (literally that’s all this is)

↳Prompt: “If you don’t hold me right now, i might just fall apart”

↳Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Manipulation and betrayal

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Synopsis:

Jeongguk lets go of you. But when he comes back into your life for the briefest of moments he’s a little too late.

↳A/N: This is for the wonderful @gguksgalaxy for the prompt game which I was doing like months ago. I wrote this long ago and forgot to post it (big dumb energy) Sorry Gwaen. The ending made me super sad though. But I hope you like it!

{18 years of age}

Your heart thumps in your chest as everyone slowly gets picked into the teams. This is why you hated PE. You were usually the last one to be picked because everyone knew of your thorough incapability to play any kind of sports. It was common knowledge within your high school. So when you were forced to choose physical education as an elective to complete the required credits to graduate, you had no choice but to make yourself resilient to the fact that you would always be picked last.

It was worse because right now Jimin and Jeongguk were the captains of the dodgeball teams. As soon as he was chosen the captain of Team A Jimin had immediately looked to you and a sly smile tugged on his lips. You could see the wheels turning in his mind and you knew he was up to something.

So as you stand in the horrible PE attire you hope Jimin chooses you because the alternative will likely end up with you passing out. You can’t be in the same team as Jeon Jeongguk because you have a massive crush on him and every time you see him you feel like you will die. Some people call it being overdramatic but you call it being a teenager with no control over her emotions. You and Gus Isaacs are the only two people left as Jimin picks one of the guys from grade 12 into his team as his second-last pick. Not you, but someone else.

“Y/n”

You hear your name somewhere far in the distance but ignore the call and continue ruminating and chewing on your lip in the process.

“Y/n” you hear your name again, and this time it’s a bit clearer but you still ignore it and think you are probably hallucinating. Until Gus Isaacs elbows your side to bring you back to reality.

You wince in pain and hold onto the spot, giving Gus the evil eye as he motions towards the front. “Jeongguk chose you to be in his team”

You blink stupidly at him as if you can’t comprehend what he’s saying. You can’t. You hear the words ‘Jeongguk chose you to be in his team’ but they don’t connect right in your head. In fact they don’t connect at all so you miss the memo while the whole class gawks at you as you stare blankly at Gus.

“Y/n, do you wanna join the team?” Jeongguk asks firmly and with the usual confidence he carries.

In your repeated blinking state you turn to look ahead only to be subjected to a questioning look by Jeongguk.

Then your vision starts blurring and the last thing you remember is a heavy feeling taking over your limbs and someone shouting your name.

You awaken about an hour later in the school infirmary. You crack open an eye to find a boringly dull white ceiling gracing your view. You open your other eye and lower your gaze to find-

“Jeongguk?”

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Why the fuck is Jeon Jeongguk here and not Jimin?

“I am fine” you strain as you try to get up. Jeongguk immediately places his hands on your elbows to help you sit up. You’re too wrapped up in your confusion to notice Jeongguk is touching you, otherwise, there would have been a reaction. “Where is Jimin?”

“He had to go to class and well someone needed to be here with you. So, I stayed”

“You don’t even know me” it’s a wonder you’re able to speak at all given that you fainted because of him. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffs in a non-condescending way. “I have had every class with you since grade 8. Of course, I know you. Plus Jimin never shuts up about you and how great you are”

“You know me?” your eyes widen

He rolls his eyes. “Stop treating me like I am some damn celebrity. Contrary to the popular belief I am not a jerk”

“But you are a celebrity” you mumble under your breath, sheepishly casting your gaze at your lap.

“What?” he squints his eyes at you.

“Nothing. You can go by the way. I am fine” you swing your legs over the bed and plant your feet firmly on the ground. You pull yourself up with effort but a light feeling runs through you and you wobble on your feet and fall back down on the tiny bed.

“Yeah. You’re totally fine” Jeongguk muses sarcastically as he steadies you. “The nurse said you should go home. I’ll take you. Come on”

Your muscles feel tight and you feel the tension in every limb. This is probably what your mom means when she says she’s had an arthritis flare-up. It’s definitely not a fun feeling. You can’t move a muscle as Jeongguk quietly waits for you to say something. This is the most surreal situation you have ever been in. The eighteen-year-old you, crazed by hormones and prone to fantasizing doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“I can go home by myself”

“Sure. If you want faint on the way and then get kidnapped by some random creepy dude. Go ahead. Eighteen-year-old girls are like a hot commodity for those psycho’s” Jeongguk says firmly, clearly trying to scare you into submission.

“What makes you think I won’t get kidnapped if you’re with me?” you question with a slight intention of teasing.

He looks scandalized as his nose scrunches and brows knit together so tightly you never thought it was possible for someone to be that offended. “Excuse me. Have you seen me?”

Yes of course, you have seen him. You’ve memorized his whole fucking face and embedded it so deep into your memory you made sure that even retrograde amnesia couldn’t get rid of it. You have been looking at him from afar for so long, you know every little thing about him.

“Just because you are slightly buff doesn’t mean you can help me”

“Wow” his jaw drops. “I have added weights to my routine so I am way stronger than I used to be. I could protect you”

“Spoken like a true teenage guy living on testosterone” you chuckle.

He rolls his eyes yet again. “So now that I have proven my point, can I take you home?”

“I’ll spare your ego” your lips pull into a grin which he echoes.

He wraps an arm around your waist and you stand firmly on the ground, waiting to feel stable before you begin walking. Jeongguk doesn’t let go eyes resting on your face as he watches you inhale slowly before nodding.

Your skin burns, every limb feels with fiery wrath the effect of his touch. Your mouth dries, throat completely parched. Your hands become clammy as you curl your fists into the sticky palm.

“Are you good?” he asks

You nod. “It’s alright. You can let go”

“And have you fall and then I get blamed for it? No way” he shakes his head, resolute.

You sigh. “Fine then. Walk me home” you say and you won’t lie that even just a little part of you is ecstatic.

“Gladly” he greets you with a grin when you look up at him. “Where is your locker?” he asks as you both step out of the infirmary and into the quiet hall.

“It’s okay. I can text Jimin to bring my stuff later”

“You and Jimin that close?” he sounds resigned about it.

“I thought Jimin talked about me” you question as you walk side by side, Jeongguk guiding you with his hand on the small of your back.

“He says you’re friends. But he never mentioned you were close enough for him to go to your house” Jeongguk explains, his previously cheery voice slightly deflated.

“That’s kinda hard to do when he lives just down the street and he loves my mom’s cooking” you press your lips into a thin smile.

“Ah” he nods in acknowledgement. “Is he just a friend or…” Jeongguk trails, not really needing to go any further because it is self-explanatory.

You reach the west side exit and step out into the cool spring afternoon with the sun shining brightly overhead. “Why are you so interested?” you cock a brow at him.

“No reason” he shrugs. “Just wanted to know if Jimin had a girl” he waves it off casually. “Anyway, so tell me something about yourself”

Your eyes narrow in confusion. “We’re making small talk now?”

“I didn’t mention the weather did I?” Jeongguk chuckles.

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

He pouts, eyes squinting as he looks into the distance. He looks cute when pouts and he does that a lot. It’s creepy that you know this but when you’ve spent a better part of your high school life fantasizing over the guy it becomes second nature after a while.

“Tell me something Jimin doesn’t know” his eyes widen with a hint of excitement.

“Oh, that’s hard because I tell Jimin everything” you pause, trying to rack your brain for something you have never told Jimin.

“There has to be one thing” Jeongguk prompts.

Your lips just out as you try really hard to think.

Then it hits you.

“Don’t tell him but one time when we were younger he thought he lost his favourite toy. But really I took it from him and never told him about it”

“Wow. What a thief” Jeongguk teases with a laugh.

“He still talks about it and it’s so awkward” you shake your head, reminiscing about the time when Jimin has mentioned his missing action figurine.

“Why did you take it?” Jeongguk asks.

“The day before I took it, he went off to play with some of the other kids. I was mad that I had to play alone while he was having fun with them on the roundabout, and the swings and they were running around laughing. I felt abandoned so the next day I took it and pretended like he lost it”

“Remind me not to piss you off” he jokes, his hand which was resting on the small of your back, suddenly thrown over your shoulder.

You look down at his hand as it dangles over your shoulder. It’s awfully intimate for two people who have just met. But you shake your head because you can’t let these thoughts limit you and freeze you up. You’re finally talking to him and you’re having a good conversation. So you can’t jeopardize this because your body automatically reacts to his touch. That can’t be why you shoot yourself in the foot, so you maintain your calm by inhaling deeply and forcing your body to relax.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone” you look at him, noticing how he’s chewing on his lips looking into the distance.

He looks down at you with a soft smile. “I’ll tell you. I promise. When the time is right”

“How is that fair?” you pout.

“Wow child” he pinches your nose, wrinkling his own nose in a cute manner. He retracts his hand, letting it fall to his side.

“Fine. It’s not like I’ll die if I don’t know your deepest darkest secret”

It elicits a hearty laugh from him.

{20 years of age}

Jeongguk stands at your door, chewing on his lip as he tries to decide if he’s making the wrong move. But then he remembers he promised he’ll tell you something he hasn’t told anyone. Even if that was two years ago and he’s a little too late in keeping his promise he still needs to tell you. He doesn’t know where it’s going to head, or what exactly he’s going to say because you’re kind of his best friend and he doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t care about you.

So with a deep inhale he knocks on the door and waits. He can hear the footsteps nearing and then the door opens to reveal you.

“Who invited you?” you joke, stepping aside and motioning for him to come in.

“I invited myself. I think I can come to my best friend’s house without an invitation. It’s kinda my right” he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple before ridding himself of his shoes and walking down the hall and falling onto the couch.

You follow him with a shake of the head. After two years of being friends and then eventually best friends with him, you’ve made yourself five percent immune to his actions which border between platonic and romantic. You don’t think he realizes it because he always does things like holding your hand out of nowhere or kissing you on the forehead as a goodbye.

You collapse next to him, and like a reflex, he pulls you into him wrapping an arm around your shoulder, fingers stroking the soft flesh. “I ask again you’re here because…”

“I can’t come and see my best friend? I missed you” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes close momentarily as you cherish his touch because this is all you will get. This is as close you will be to being something more to him.

“You can. But you just saw me five hours ago and we hung out. Now you’re here and you’re…” you look up at him and place your index finger in the middle of his forehead. “Now you’re frowning which means you’re stuck”

“I am stuck?” he looks down at you, a soft crinkle in the corner of his eyes.

“I mean something is bothering you” you pull your finger away and rest your hand in your lap.

“How do you always know?” he smiles softly.

Yeah. How do you know?

Is it because you have loved the guy for so long or because you pay very careful attention to him? It’s not like you can tell him so you settle for-

“I just know. Now tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours” you tap his temple with your finger.

“Okay first, I am not big-headed. Secondly, I have something to tell you”

“Are you finally going to keep your promise from two years ago?” you shuffle your head so you can get a look at him. He’s lost in thought, a vacant expression holding his gaze away from you.

“I am kind of dating Kira” he lets out a shaky breath.

You pull yourself away, suddenly feeling cold all over. Your heart pounds against your chest, the rhythm thrumming so loud in your ears they start ringing. You swallow, looking into the eyes of this majestic man in front of you who has slipped from your fingers like sand. There is no hope now. He’s gone.

But worse than that he’s dating Kira. She’s the epitome of a mean girl. Even worse.

“Since when?” you whisper softly, feeling your heart shatter into pieces as each second passes by.

“Four months” he replies, not meeting your gaze. “I was going to tell you but I thought I’d wait until things get serious enough”

If there was ever any hope of recovering from this, it’s gone now. You can imagine yourself moping, and crying in the near future because you couldn’t tell him first how you felt. Maybe if you had given in to bravery instead of your fears you might have been the one dating him.

“Why?” your heartbreak echoes in your words. You don’t know if he can hear it. You’re not even mad that he kept it from you for months. You are so severely hurt you can’t even begin to feel angry about it. It feels hollow inside, like the place where your heart should be is empty. A cold chill runs down your spine as you stare into Jeongguk’s eyes-- the ones that always feel like home-- but now they feel like a strange abyss.

“Because she’s actually sweet. She’s nice”

You put your feelings aside for a moment because this is bigger than you. Just because you feel like you’re suffocating sitting next to him; just because it feels like the end and just because you feel like you’ll die doesn’t mean you’ll let him ruin himself. She’s wrong for him in ways he can’t see.

“Jeongguk. Listen, I know you think you like her. I know you think she’s nice but she’s not”

“Please y/n” he whispers, reaching for your hand and holding it in his. “Not you. You have to side with me on this”

“I want to. If this was someone else” your throat constricts even thinking about it. You swallow. “I would be completely happy for you. But Kira isn’t what you deserve. You deserve better. You deserve good and she’s not it”

Jeongguk’s hold on your hand slackens. “Just because you can’t see the good in her, doesn’t mean she isn’t”

You stare back at him, the way his jaw sets tightly, the way he’s trying so hard not to be angry at you. “I can’t. I can’t tell you what you want to hear. My job as your best friend is to save you not destroy you”

He pulls his hand away from yours and gets up. “Whatever,” he says. “I don’t need your approval. I just thought I should tell you”

“Jeongguk-”

“Bye y/n” his gaze lingers on you before he walks to the front door and leaves.

You didn’t think your friendship with Jeongguk was so fragile that it would fracture under the weight of his feelings for Kira. But since he’s actually avoiding you, you presumed wrong. He’s not been answering any of your texts or calls. He hasn’t visited you even once in the weeks after he admitted the truth to you.

He’s vanished from your life-- like he never existed.

It leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach to know that he’s just decided not to be a part of your life anymore. You feel hurt, but more than feeling hurt you feel disappointed in yourself. Trust is a fickle thing. It’s earned through effort and broken without lifting a finger. Did Jeongguk not know that? Does he not understand that you want what is best for him? Can he really not see that you have always been on his side?

But how do you bring someone back from the edge when they have decided to take the fall?

“Missing your best friend?” Kira makes an unwanted appearance as your eyes focus back to reality. She’s got a sly smirk on her face.

You roll your eyes. “I am sure you got into his head”

“He’s not a plaything. He knows what’s right and wrong for him” she folds her arms across her chest.

“You got what you wanted. Fuck off now” you bite through clenched teeth as you gather your belongings, ready to leave. You’re almost out of the door when Kira speaks.

“He knows you like him.” she says in a condescending tone.

Your steps halt and so does your heart. You turn around. “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower”

She shrugs. “Your perceptions of me are your problem. Not mine”

“A snake like you doesn’t deserve him”

She laughs with a roll of her eyes. “You think you deserve him?”

Your jaw sets tight as you glare at her. “I do. I deserve him because I’ve been with him through thick and thin. I’ve mended his broken heart, I’ve tended to him when he fell sick, I’ve put my life on hold to help him live his. So fuck yes I deserve him”

She quietly observes smirk still plastered to her lips like she’s incapable of expressing herself in any other way. But then the smirk falters and sets into a frown. “Y/n please don’t” she reaches for your hands, crushing them between hers on purpose.

“What?” your nose scrunches in confusion.

“Jeongguk is your best friend. Don’t leave him because of me” her eyes become glossy, furthering your confusion. “I’ll break up with him” a single tear escapes her eye.

“Wha-”

“Kira. Dont.” a firm voice draws your attention. You turn around to find Jeongguk glaring at you.

With quick strides, he stands between you and Kira and he tugs her hands out of yours.

“I know you don’t like her but I never thought you would try to go behind my back and try to sabotage my relationship” Jeongguk looks at you with such venom laced eyes it pulls at your heartstrings.

“What? I didn’t even-”

“It’s okay kookie” Kira sniffles leaning into his chest.

You gawk at her, blinking repeatedly at the scene in front of you.

“Wow” your brows knit together, jaw agape as you look at her completely mortified. “She’s lying” you turn to Jeongguk. His nostrils flare, chest heaving as he stares at you--clearly not believing you, his best fucking friend of two years. He takes the word a girl he’s known for a few months. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking. His eyes say it all, the hatred with which he’s looking at you says it all.

“You know what Jeongguk, she’s changed you and you can’t even see it” your eyes sting with tears. You have so much to say but you bite your words because Jeongguk can’t see past his feelings.

“You just can’t see me happy because you like me” his voice cracks, and you can see the shine overcoming his eyes before he turns away.

Your heart sinks in your chest. It’s not what he’s saying. It’s the accusatory tone of his voice that hurts. “Well, congratulations Jeongguk. You don’t have to feel burdened by it anymore. Have a great fucking life” you bite.

Kira looks up at you, a smile quivering on her lips. She glances up at Jeongguk who’s looking away to the side and then turns to you as she lets herself smile. She’s won.

You turn on your heels and walk away from them-- from the pain of it all because there is no point anymore. It’s like someone has driven a stake through your heart. It would have been better if that happened because the alternative is losing your best friend which hurts more than any pain that could be inflicted on you.

There is a sharp ache that settles in your chest as you walk away. But even as you do there is a tiny sliver of hope that he’ll call out your name and tell you to stay. Bit by bit it breaks as you step further away from him, until you are out of the door.

But you don’t hear his voice

{23 years of age}

You didn’t think you would ever get over Jeongguk. But Jimin helped you in ways you couldn’t imagine. He never took advantage of your vulnerable state, he never inserted himself in your life when you were at your weakest. He was just there, being your friend when you realized that somehow he had pieced your heart back together without even trying.

He never tried to get you to move on from Jeongguk. He knew you liked him-- loved him rather. He was there for the drunken nights when all you could manage were sobs because your chest felt tight, and memories of Jeongguk would come rushing back in your inebriated state. Jimin’s silence spoke volumes and even through the haze you could see how much he cared as he would silently place your head on his shoulder and hold you close.

Since the day Jeongguk let you walk away from his life, Jimin has been there. He’s with you now, holding your hand, squeezing it tight as Jeongguk stands in front of you, puffy-eyed. Jimin slowly laces his fingers with yours, eyes never wavering from Jeongguk. The breath that has been caught in your throat finally releases and relief floods your chest. A slight ache settles deep somewhere, into far depths of your entire being and it begins to radiate until you feel a sharp stabbing sensation in your chest that has you squeezing Jimin’s hand like its your lifeline.

“Y/n” Jeongguk’s quiet and firm voice reverberates through the air as it reaches you

Pain forgotten, your eyes find purchase on the floor. You can feel your knees beginning to give out, a slight quiver indicating that you won’t be able to stand much longer. You are suddenly steadied on your feet. You look down at your waist to find a hand resting on your side.

“I’ve got you y/n. You just have to be brave” Jimin whispers in your ear.

You don’t know how to be brave. You thought three years was enough time to prepare yourself, to harden your heart to the fact that Jeon Jeongguk would never be a part of your life again. But maybe you never could move on. Maybe you will never be able to forget Jeongguk. Maybe you will never be strong enough to stand on your feet by yourself in front of him, and perhaps he will always be your greatest weakness.

But he looks broken.

As much as you did the day he let go of you without a second of hesitation. You can still remember the look of determination in his eyes, his set jaw, as he had looked away and without even a glance let you walk away from him.

That should be enough to make all the panic go away. That should give way to anger. But all that serves to do is remind you of how much it hurt to let him go.

“How have you been?” Jeongguk speaks but this time his voice shakes.

You shudder.

“I- I wanted to see you earlier but…” he trails off.

You just have to be brave- Jimin’s voice rings in your head.

“Let’s go Jimin” your voice is meek. Your action is anything but.

Jimin nods and leads you, his hand still holding onto yours tightly as you begin to walk past Jeongguk. It feels slightly nostalgic--walking away from him all over again.

“Y/n wait” Jeongguk is quick to catch a hold of your wrist just as you are passing by him.

You’re tugged in both directions as both men hold onto your hands. You’re forced to stop and face Jeongguk.

“You know you have some nerve Jeongguk” Jimin’s voice is firm as he grits his teeth.

“Stay out of it, Jimin. Please” Jeongguk stares intently at Jimin, but his tone isn’t hostile.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “It’s making her uncomfortable” Jimin bites back, hardly able to control his anger. It seeps through his words.

Jeongguk’s eyes shift focus to you and it’s clear as day that you are in fact uncomfortable. He notices the pained look in your face, the cloud of wispy breath fogging his view as you inhale sharply. He can see it in the way you’re avoiding him, the way your eyes are dancing around, restless and refusing to settle.

He lets go and licks his lips. “I am sorry y/n”

That gets your attention. It’s taken him three years to say that to you. “Sorry?” you scoff, anxiety and inhibition are forgotten as you meet his gaze.

“I know I was a dick to you-”

“You broke my heart Jeongguk. You broke--” you stop to gulp the tight knot down your throat. “You broke my heart to pieces and you didn’t even hesitate. Your ‘sorry’ won’t fix it”

“I know. So tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it”

“You can’t. I won’t make you feel guilty and tell you that you could have done it. I know you were in love. But were you so afraid of my feelings for you that you couldn’t even have listened to me? We could have been friends in the very least. I would have been fine with it”

There is a pregnant pause. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter to the ground, and he chews on his lip in silence.

“I wouldn’t have been y/n” his gentle voice cuts through

“What?”

“You’re right. The moment I found out you liked me, I freaked out. I realized something at that moment and it scared me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I thought the best thing would be for me to let you go. Then I saw Kira crying and I thought you guys got into a fight and it gave me a reason to let you go. Otherwise, I never would have”

You feel Jimin looking at you through the periphery. You quickly glance at him. Jeongguk lifts his head to meet your gaze.

“What scared you?”

“The fact that I liked you. The realization that I had--have-- always liked you scared me. It terrified me because it was too real. I could see it in my head y/n-- being with you. It was easy to imagine but I have been a commitment-phobe my entire life. I just couldn’t bring myself to”

You gulp hard. Your mouth is dry and in the cold January morning, your hand starts to sweat. You blink profusely at Jeongguk, unable to fathom his words. Jimin squeezes your hand, reassuring you, and reminding you to stay in the moment and not get swept away in the flood of your feelings. It grounds you and enables you to look a Jeongguk without feeling like you will lose your breath at any moment.

“I am sorry Jeongguk. You’re a little too late” you spare him one moment of a glance before turning on your heels.

“If you don’t hold me right now, I might just fall apart” his voice squeaks.

You halt in your steps. You pivot on your heels and face him. He stands with his head hung low, soft muffled sounds escaping his mouth, and you can see a tear fall down his cheek. You quickly look at Jimin.

“Y/n” he says warningly.

But you nod your head in reassurance and he loosens his grip on your hand.

“I’d never let you fall apart Jeongguk. Never” you say quietly as you stand on your toes and wrap your hands behind his shoulders in an embrace. A moment passes as he stands limply in your arms before you feel his hands squeezing around your waist. “I know what it’s like to fall apart and feel alone. I’d never wish that for you” you hug tighter, resting your chin against his shoulder. You can hear the sound of his tears hitting your jacket, and it breaks your heart too.

A few beats of silence pass while you hold each other. You feel the heaviness that had weighed your heart down for three years melting away. Jeongguk sniffles and steps back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“So does that mean-” you can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“No” you say firmly, holding his hands into yours. “No Jeongguk. I won’t be able to this time” you shake your head and just like that the dull look is back in his eyes. “Look at what not being together did to us. Being together would destroy us. The possibility that it could go sideways at any moment would ruin both of us. I told you, I will not let that happen to you” your voice quivers.

“Y/n…”

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember Jeongguk. I still do and maybe I always will. But we can’t always have what we want, can we?” your lips curl into a faint smile.

Jeongguk sighs heavily. Tears stream down his cheeks as they do yours. “No, we can’t” he replies, his fingers slipping through your hands.

“Bye Jeongguk” you stand on your toes as you kiss his cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

“Bye y/n” he whispers, closing his eyes. He hears your footsteps retreat. He feels the cold breeze of wind caressing his face. He opens his eyes.

You’re gone.

And he is alone.

Let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading this!

#bts #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #bts jungkook #bts angst #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook imagines #jungkook one shot #bts writing #bts fanfiction #sfw

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iamjungkooked · 4 years

Text

Hold Me | JJk

↳Genre: Angst (literally that’s all this is)

↳Prompt: “If you don’t hold me right now, i might just fall apart”

↳Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Manipulation and betrayal

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Synopsis:

Jeongguk lets go of you. But when he comes back into your life for the briefest of moments he’s a little too late.

↳A/N: I am cross-posting this from my other blog! THIS IS NOT PLAGARIZED I’ve been gone for a while from this blog but since I wrote something I thought I should post it here as well. It’s something I wrote weeks ago for a friend. But I hope you guys all like it!