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negasonicteenagemess · 4 years

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Slippery Slope || peter parker imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Request: hey :) so could you write something where read and peter are dating and it’s either summer break or christmas break or something and reader goes on a family vacation where brad is (he doesn’t know her and brad are cousins) and he gets super sad and jealous and when he sees snaps of them together so when she gets back he’s like ignoring her until she snaps and is like peter wtf and he accuses her of cheating w her cousin and it’s like a funny wtf moment

hi... sorry for not posting in like five months. I haven’t really been in a peter vibe and i think i accidentally turned into a theater kid because I listen to musicals now

masterlist

Peter sat on his bed, bored out of his mind as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. YouTube, Instagram, Twitter, you name it, Peter was on it. He bit his lip going back to his messages again to see whether or not Y/N had sent a text that he missed. When he opened their messages, he wasn’t surprised when he noticed the lack of a response from her as she is on vacation after all. She went all the way to New Jersey for some family thing. If Peter was being honest, he wasn’t really listening.

He groaned in annoyance, closing the app and tapping on Snapchat. Sighing, he swiped over to where his friends’ stories were, Y/N’s being the first in his line of site. He quirked his eyebrow, curious as to why his girlfriend can’t text him but has time to post on her story.

He tapped on the small icon above her name to see a picture of Y/N…and Brad together at the beach. “What!” He yelped sitting up, looking at his phone as if he saw some unearthly entity, again.

Why the hell was she with Brad at the beach? He wondered what was going on as he got a notification. His phone dinged, finally receiving a text from Y/N that read, “I’ve been at the beach all dayyy what’ve you been up to? :)”

Peter scoffed, locking his phone and hopping out of his bed to practically throw his suit on. He shook his head as he pulled the infamous red mask over his head, flattening his curls in the process. He glanced over at the backpack on his desk chair already prepped for school starting in almost a week. Shaking his head and dreading the thought of having to see Brad with Y/N again, Peter jumped out his window ready to help the citizens of New York once again.

Y/N returned home the Sunday before her first day of school. Like every high school student, she was cramming all of her summer homework into that afternoon with the thought of her boyfriend not speaking to her for a week. Six months of talking to each other nearly every day halted last week, and Y/N had no idea why.

She just wanted everything to go back to normal as she had no idea why Peter was ignoring her. She went to her messages, immediately tapping on Peter’s name. All of the messages she had sent in the past week had no replies other than the small ‘read’ under her words. She bit her lip, nervously typing a response yet again.

‘hey peter. I hate not talking to you. I’m sorry if I upset you or something. please call me, I miss you’

Y/N read over the message recognizing how pathetic it must have sounded but disregarded that as she knew that feeling didn’t compare to losing her boyfriend while she pressed the send button. Anxiously waiting for a response, all she could do was look at the message and wait for a response. Minutes passed and Y/N saw the small word that made her heart ache slightly. A bubble with three dots appeared making her heart flutter, but that flutter quickly diminished.

Read 5:37pm.

She closed her eyes, letting a small breath escape her lips as she locked her phone and proceeded to do her assignments.

Peter bit his lip when he slipped his phone into his pocket. “I just don’t get why she was kanoodling with him at the beach.”

He threw the ball in his hand against the wall, prepped to catch it again. “Maybe they’re just friends,” Ned offered, scribbling down half-assed answers to the summer reading.

“Okay, but if she went to Jersey for what she said was a supposed family thing then why was Brad there?” Peter questioned as he caught the ball and stared at his friend who was sitting on the bed in Peter’s room.

“Oh my god,” Peter spoke quietly, dropping the red ball onto the ground next to his desk chair before covering his face with his hands in realization. “What?” Ned asked now looking at his best friend with concern.

“She’s totally cheating on me,” he spoke softly as he turned in his chair to face the bed. “Woah Peter,” Ned exclaimed, “I don’t think she’s cheating on you. It’s Y/N we’re talking about. She’d never do that to you.”

“But what other explanation could there be?” Peter groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance. “I-I would never do that with MJ without telling her.”

Ned scoffed, “yeah but that’s completely different because you dated MJ.” Peter mumbled a short ‘yeah’ as he absentmindedly spun in the chair. “Just talk to her man. Maybe you’ll find an explanation then,” Ned suggested, picking up his pencil to begin focusing on his homework yet again. Peter sat in his thoughts for a minute, maybe his best friend was right after all.

The next day at school, Y/N decided to wear a cute outfit for the first day. It was an outfit that Peter helped her pick out, and she completely forgot that until she approached her new locker. She sighed after entering in the combination a billion times without any success. “Need some help,” Brad questioned as he noticed the disheveled girl.

Y/N turned to look at him, with desperation clear on her face, “please?” Brad took the paper out of her hands and showed her how to open the metal box. “You have to twist it three times before entering the last number,” he explained as the door popped open.

“Oh,” she whispered softly, “thanks Brad.” Sadness was evident in her voice as she swung her backpack in front of her to drop off some excess school supplies.

“Has he talked to you at all?” He spoke quietly, putting a supportive hand on her shoulder. She shook her head, looking down, “he hasn’t even texted me back.”

He pulled the sad girl into his arms, knowing that this past week has been rough on her.

“I don’t even know what I did,” her voice muffled into his shirt. Across the hall, Brad saw the boy she was talking about alongside his best friend.

Peter made eye contact with the teenager who had his arms wrapped around his girlfriend. Not wanting Y/N to notice him, Brad put a hand on her head to keep her there, but to also show comfort.

“He’s such a fucking idiot,” Brad spoke loudly to make sure that Peter could hear him. The hero looked away, not wanting to witness the scene any longer. Clenching his jaw, Brad pulled away and immediately softened his features when he saw Y/N.

She pulled out her phone to look at the time with a small amount of hope that dissipated when she saw she didn’t have any notifications from Peter. “The bell’s gonna ring soon. Better walk to class early in case I get lost.” She chuckled lightly as a small smile made its way onto her lips.

The day went by slowly with the standard first day business. Syllabus after syllabus and ‘get to know me’ activities that seemingly had no end.

Lunch was the sweet escape that the upperclassmen thrived in while the new freshmen had struggles navigating to find a seat.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite guy at Midtown,” Brad spoke sarcastically, swinging his arm around Peter’s shoulders roughly as he took a seat next to him. Peter closed his eyes, trying to ignore the situation as much as he possibly could. “What do you want?” He muttered, now glaring at him.

“I wanna know why you’ve been a total dick to Y/N,” he smiled bitterly, clearly showing the anger within him. Peter scoffed, pushing Brad away from him gently.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” He grumbled. Ned sat there across from the two, eating his food quietly as he watched the scene unfold. “Because you hurt her, Parker. And we both know she, of all people, doesn’t deserve that,” Brad spoke, his tone serious.

“How can you be so sure about that? She was probably too busy making out with you to talk to me,” Peter exclaimed, emphasizing his point with flailing his hands about. “Maki-what?” Brad now started laughing, standing up to get a better view of Peter, who was much shorter than him. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

“What?” Peter questioned confused with his angry tone lacing through. Brad shook his head, putting a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder.

“Y/N, she’s my cousin. You dumb piece of shit,” Brad scoffed. Suddenly, Peter’s eyes widened as everything started to make sense. A vague memory from over the summer that he had forgotten suddenly resurfaced.

“Yeah, my mom and I are gonna meet up with my Aunt and Brad before we go to New Jersey for that stupid reunion,” Y/N spoke as she scrolled absentmindedly through her phone. Peter stopped typing on his laptop to turn and question his girlfriend.

“Brad?”

Y/N furrowed her brows as she looked at the teenager before her, “yeah. He’s my cousin. I’ve told you this before, Peter. But, for your sake, we were both dead for five years, so I’d forgive you if you’ve forgotten.”

She chuckled lightly at her statement, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek as he returned to his laptop.

“I-I only remember her talking about you before the whole blip thing. I just completely forgot that you’re basically the same age as us now. Holy shit,” Peter confessed, looking down in shame.

“God, I’m such an idiot,” he ran his hands over his face as he thought about the past week and how douchy he was acting. “Yeah, you sure are,” Brad commented, crossing his arms while taking a step back. “You better fix this, Peter. I don’t want to see her cry over you again.” He walked away, leaving that side of the cafeteria to find his cousin.

Peter’s heart broke at the thought of Y/N crying. Especially over him. He sat down at his seat feeling utterly defeated. Holding his head in his hands his mind went blank when coming up with solutions. “I don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, looking up at Ned who was concerned for his friend.

“Okay,” Ned spoke after swallowing a fry, “I have an idea.”

Peter stood at the door, a bouquet of roses in his hand. He let out a breath as he ran through what he was going to say to her. “Okay, Peter. You got this,” he whispered as he pressed the doorbell.

The wooden door swung open to a slightly distressed teenage girl.

“Hey,” he mumbled with a shy smile. Y/N wiped her face dry, her eyes obviously puffy. “What are you doing here Peter?” She whispered, leaning against the door.

He sighed, brushing a hand through his dark hair, “apologizing for being such a dick.” She looked down at the floor, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. They stood in silence for a minute.

“Well I’m waiting,” she softly spoke. Peter started with a breath, “I was jealous.” Y/N’s head shot up at the comment, crossing her arms with furrowed brows. “W-What? By who?” She was intrigued now as this was new information. Peter let out a short chuckled, “Brad.”

Y/N was now even more confused at his answer.

“Yeah. I forgot that he was your cousin. So, I thought you lied to me about the family thing and that you just went to hang out with Brad, and-and cheated on me,” Peter pressed his fingers into his forehead disappointed with himself. “I forgot that the whole blip thing made him go from a middle schooler to a junior in high school,” he sighed with slightly slumped shoulders, “so when you said you were going with Brad, I thought it was like some eleven year old not, not him.”

Peter dryly chuckled as silence returned between the pair. “Why would you think I’d cheat on you?” Y/N asked shyly as she leaned against the door frame with crossed arms but no look of resentment gracing her features.

“I don’t know,” Peter muttered, looking into her eyes before looking at his shoes, “really I don’t have any idea why because I know you’d never do that.”

Y/N gave him a tight smile at the comment when he looked in her eyes again.

“This year has been so shitty, Y/N,” he finally broke.

“I-I disappeared for five years, I had to help save the whole universe, then the whole thing in Europe happened and- and everything with Tony,” his voice cracked at the thought. Tears started pouring out of his dark brown eyes as Y/N grabbed his hand to comfort him. “Peter,” she whispered, about to console him but he wasn’t finished.

“I thought the universe was out to get me, you know? With everything I’ve lost, I wouldn’t really be surprised at this point if I lost you too,” he sobbed as Y/N wrapped her arms around him. The flowers were now on the ground, but they were long forgotten.

Peter’s tears spilled onto Y/N’s shoulder while his arms wrapped tightly around her as if it’d be the last time. He felt so relieved to finally be able to hold her again.

“Thank god you won’t be losing me anytime soon,” she chuckled lightly as she rubbed his back soothingly. Peter’s laugh mimicked her own as he pulled away while wiping his eyes.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” he directed towards her wet shirt. He looked down at the ground as if he was trying to remember something, “oh no! The flowers!” He sounded stressed as he bent down to pick them up.

Y/N smiled at his child like action, “Peter it’s okay. I’m just glad I have my boyfriend back.” Despite their redness, Peter’s eyes glimmered as a grin grew on his face.

“So, you don’t want to break up with me then?” He spoke, slightly unsure of himself, but growing confident as Y/N beamed. She leaned forward pressing her lips against his. His eyes were wide at the sudden action before he fell back into the standard routine of placing his hands on her hips as their lips moved together. A slight crunch could be heard from plastic on the floor.

Peter pulled away with his eyes closed and his lips pressed in a fine line, “I dropped the flowers again.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N giggled as her arm laid on her stomach and the other hand went to her mouth as he bent down. Peter stood up, with his hair slightly ruffled and a big grin on his face. “These are for you. They look kind of beaten though now,” he spoke as he examined the new frailness the roses had.

“They’re perfect,” she smiled as she took the flowers from his hands. “Come inside before my neighbors see us. We both look like an absolute mess.”

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Call It What You Want

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three

Summary: The other shoe drops and you weren’t ready.

A/n: Look at me posting twice in one day. Who am I? I don’t know. I love you guys and hope you enjoy some angst and pining. Let me know what you think! Please it means the world to me!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo

Draco’s feeling towards you started to morph from hatred and disgust to curiosity. You were almost too cryptic for his liking... it was too Slytherin for a Gryffindor.

So, he started to watch you a bit closer, learning your schedule and what you did or didn’t do. Most of the time he was left alone because you were in the Gryffindor Tower. He only assumed that it was the location that you studied in because you were never in the library other than to check out books.

Each day he found out nothing more than circling answers and more questions. It frustrated him He was the best at everything except knowing how you worked. Potter was easy, Hermione and Ron even more so, but you were a force to be reckoned with and he hated it.

“I want her kicked out Father! You don’t understand, she’s making a fool of the Slytherin house and our name!” Draco paced as he spoke to his father.

It was the only answer that he could find. Send you away and he wouldn’t have to wonder any longer. His father could easily get you kicked out.

“And on what grounds do you actually have against her?” His father mused.

“Endangerment of students! She almost took down Snape’s entire potions class! She’s a Lupine father! What else do you need!?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” His father stood, “But in the meantime, I must commend you on your excelling in your studies. Very good,”

The last thing that Draco was going to do was tell his father that you were the reason that he was doing better in his classes. To beat you, he had to be smarter and ahead.

__________________________

“He��s going to realize what you’re doing,” Hermione muttered. “Or at least the teachers are,”

I chuckled and put down my notes where I had resorted to drawing instead of writing and rolled my eyes. It was hard to talk about my Malfoy scheme because I had to be careful about what I said around Harry and Ron.

“I don’t think they’re going to complain that he’s getting better grades to spite me Hermione,” I pointed out.

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

“Ha. No.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t believe me.”

“Did your mother ever answer you?” She shifted the conversation slightly as more students passed.

“Yes, and no.” I muttered and pulled the letter out of my bag and handed it to her.

My Dear Y/n,

I’m sorry that you are having trouble with the Malfoys. I had hoped to keep you from it, but it seems like not everything can be prevented. As for what to do about Draco, I can only tell you to follow your heart my dear. You were always so kind and strong, don’t be swayed. Stand firm in what you know.

I also want to remind you that the young Malfoy was not raised how you were. His father is distant and cold and his mother even more so. I did my best to raise you without high expectations, and that’s all he’s ever had. Do not blame him for his harsh exterior. Find his heart my dear. Do what you do best and find what truly matters.

Have courage and be kind,

Love, Momma

“Wow,” Hermione raised her eyebrows. “That’s...”

“I know,” I complained. “I thought I was going to get some hate letter against the Malfoys, and I get this! What am I supposed to do with this!” I slumped against the table.

“Well, your mother did say to find out who Malfoy really is... if there is more under the malice and evil.” Hermione muttered.

“Did you get a letter from your mom?” Ron asked as the boys sat down in the Great Hall. Hermione and I exchanged a look as I shoved the letter back into my bag.

“Yeah, she just gave me some advice about what to do about a boy,” I lied easily—well, it wasn’t a total lie.

“You like someone!” Ron was delighted.

I gave him a flat look and he simmered down.

“It’s between my mother and I,” I narrowed my eyes at the boys.

“And Hermione,” Ron mumbled.

_________________________

Draco couldn’t help it. He overheard you talking about the letter from your mother and Ron exclaiming about you liking someone.

Who had caught your eye? He wondered. Maybe it was Krum after all. He did come out in first in the first challenge. His hatred for Krum grew a little more as another question was added into his mess of who you were. He couldn’t wait until you were kicked out. It would solve everything.

“I’m going to get her expelled,” He stated matter of factly to his table.

“How are you going to do that?” Crabbe asked.

“Are you talking about Lupine again?” Pansy scoffed. “Get a life Malfoy.”

His eyes met yours, and there was a small smile at your lips. Something friendly. Little did he know that it caused him to smile back.

How long was he going to live in denial? The voice in his head asked There’s something different about her and you know it, the voice chided.

You are above her, his father’s voice reminded him. You are chosen. You must achieve greatness.

Draco shoved both voices away and watched you slyly through the rest of dinner.

Rain turned to snow as December settled onto Hogwarts. Draco spent the night studying in his dorm room for Snape’s final that was coming soon. A tapping on his window interrupted him. It was an owl with a letter for him. The owl was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it as he took the letter and sent the owl off.

Malfoy, Draco,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I should be studying for Snape’s final. But... here I am.

I wanted to say thank you I’m sorry I understand how

My mother sent me a letter. I spoke to her about you, and our feud. She took me to America so that I wouldn’t be caught up in it, but I guess that plan backfired. I don’t want to fight you. Not really.

I want to say that were more alike than we care to admit, but then that would be admitting it.

Good luck on Snape’s final. If you want help, let me know.

Y/n

He stared at the letter, the scratched-out words in anger and frustration, and he wondered what possessed you to send this to him. This was different. This was new.

You were kind. He knew that, of course, but this was the first time you had been kind to him directly. It was jarring.

He was tempted to throw the letter into the fire and forget about it. He wanted to make fun of you for writing it and never let you live it down. Kindness was weak. Kindness lost the game. But were you playing the game anymore? Did he want to play anymore?

You are a Malfoy. His father’s voice scolded. You will do as I say and uphold the family name.

He folded the letter and tucked it under his pillow.

___________________________

Penelope, my screech owl, returned with nothing to say, but she wanted a bit of food for her travels. I gave her the end of my stock of her treats and she twittered before heading off to the Owlery.

Not that I expected anything. All I had to do was be kind and have courage. My mother was right about that.

Friday came again and during study hall Professor Snape came up to my table and requested my presence in his office. I wanted to argue, but my eye caught Draco’s and the look on his face let me know that this had something to do with him, and that worried me. What had Draco done?

I followed Snape to his office where McGonagall sat as well. This couldn’t be good. My anxiety spiked as I took a seat and awaited my fate.

“Miss Lupine,” McGonagall began. “It has come to our attention that you and Mr. Malfoy are in a sort of constant duel,” She spoke calmly.

“Duel? She almost took out half the Potions class!” Snape hissed, glaring me down.

“I didn’t,” I muttered. “And Draco had a hand in that too. Why isn’t he in here?” I pressed.

“He did not have a complaint raised against him by a concerned parent.” McGonagall spoke with her eyes.

Draco really told on me... to his dad?

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered. “What? Does he want me expelled? So that Draco can just coast through life? And never have a challenge? Never get any better?”

“Get better?” McGonagall mused, something hidden in her eyes. Oh, she knew my game. Maybe that’s what this meeting was about.

“Draco is... very proud.” I began, looking at my lap. “He won’t ask for help in his academics... but give him someone to beat and...”

“And he’ll do anything to beat her.” McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Snape. “I told you, this was nothing more than healthy competition. Y/n wouldn’t endanger anyone,”

“Never,” I was appalled. “This is because I’m endangering people? I would never put anyone in danger.” I looked to Snape, pleas in my eyes. “You have to believe that, after being with me all year. I wouldn’t take it that far,”

He pursed his lips and found resolve.

“I suppose you are right,” He sighed. “Be careful Miss Lupine, you are under watch now.”

I nodded and stood, taking my bag. Walking down the hall, I was fighting tears. I had maybe ten minutes to get to Hagrid’s for Care for Mythical Creatures and I was going to be late. Not that I was concerned.

Hurt flooded my senses at the thought of Draco wanting me expelled. I thought that maybe I was getting through to him... that maybe something could work out and then...

It made my stomach drop.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pansy from Slytherin grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around in my fervor.

The students nearby stopped to watch us.

“I was going to class,” I righted my robe and glared her down, trying to keep from crying in front of her. “Did I miss something? Is there a reason you’re assaulting me this morning?”

“What are you doing to Draco?” She ignored my question completely.

“What do you mean what am I doing!? What I’ve been doing for the past four years, why do you care!?” I screeched, clenching my fists.

“No this isn’t whatever has been happening in the past and you know that. Now what game are you playing you filthy little whore?”

My eyes widened in surprise as I gaped at her.

“Excuse me?” I demanded drawing my wand. “What did you just call me?”

“What you are.” She drew her own wand. “You’re playing with his head like you’re some Slytherin. Stay in your lane you little bitch!”

A list of spells ran through my head, none of them very nice. As I opened my mouth to cast the worst one that I could think of, I caught sight of familiar blue eyes pushing through the crowd and I stopped. He looked hurt and confused.

Was I doing that to him? What was he doing to me? Was this a set up?

“It’s not worth it,” I muttered to myself putting my wand away to the disappointment of the crowd.

Turning, I went to head to class. Then I heard Pansy cast her spell. I dropped quickly, dodging the spell but when I looked back, I realized I didn’t have to.

Draco was between Pansy and me... protecting me...?

“Pansy what are you doing?” He hissed.

“Taking care of your problem for you!” She snarled. “I’m tired of hearing you constantly rant about her! She’s nothing Draco! Nothing compared to you or me! She’s a pathetic excuse for a pure blood,”

Something was different hearing it from her mouth instead of Draco’s. Draco has to hate me... Pansy said it on her own accord. My gaze dropped to the floor.

“She better than every wizard in this school and you know that,” Draco hissed. “I always knew you were a jealous bitch.”

“Draco,” I chided softly.

The crowd around us grew, hanging into every word said.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Get out of here Pansy,” Draco sneered. “And leave Y/n alone,”

Pansy looked cornered before she fled the other way. Draco started to leave too but I grabbed his arm.

“Oh no you don’t,” I snapped. “What the hell Malfoy?” My voice shook and tears threatened to spill. “Why are you doing this to me? You try to get me expelled then you come and play hero!?”

“Doing it to you!? What about what you’re doing to me!?” He demanded. “What game are you playing here Y/n!?”

“I’m not playing! Don’t you see that!? I’m tired of playing the game! The feud! I’m tired of it, Draco,” tears did start to fall. “Can’t you see that?” My voice broke as I trailed off and for once, I ran away from a fight.

Part 5

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zirkkun · 3 years

Note

Yo you have every right to be upset about things! You're still a person with your own feelings and deserve to be treated kindly. No one should come at you for making things you enjoy or for misunderstandings. I hope things get better for you even if I wasn't here for when all the drama happened (or maybe I was and just wasn't aware of it? I tend to avoid drama as much as possible tbh)

I didn't really post about it much. I think I answered about 4 asks about it (three of them in the same post because i was sure it was the same anon due to the similar string of seemingly continued messages) and the rest I just deleted as soon as they came in, but I got... A lot. A lot of mean things said too. Kinda hurts when you wanted to make something because you knew this work was highly criticized and wanted to let people give it a second chance only to be shot down by the people you were hoping to defend lol

In short, and a lot of it I missed because I was blocked by a lot of people so my friend sent me screencaps; someone took I believe only the old ask box post I had for ULR, which at the time was called "Underlust Rewrite," and was disgusted at the fact that everything was revamped and "made for kids" (because it's not 18+ explicit content, but as I've said before, it's just cause I'm too scared to be horny on main, and I've literally made a whole different biological system for ULR so I can write the necessary story ""sex scenes"" without it being human-like sex or otherwise uncomfortable or too explicit for me to draw, but I still consider it a mature story overall), so they blocked me instantly here and on twitter and then made a callout post on twitter itself. People were telling me originally to stop calling the AU Underlust, and I didn't really get it at first, because like, what's the difference between my spinoff and, say, Underlust Gold, Swapfell Indigo, TS!Underswap, you know, names that have add-ons from the original title to differentiate it but still connect it to the source. So that's what I said, as well as if I removed the Underlust name, it would be considered stealing to me, because I'd be disconnecting it from the source. But apparently, instead, what had been the concern was that it was just being called "Underlust" and the "Rewrite" aspect was implying I was replacing the original story, which like, had never been my intention and I've made a bunch of things with both the ULR and UL cast together and love the idea of Lust and Ace meeting up and just being a disaster duo of not working together at all. I just adore Underlust like it's in my pinned FAQ, Lust's been in my banner for months now, and he's practically my staple pfp character on every account but here atm.

It took like 3 days for it to actually click what was going on, because once I finally got the chance to have a conversation with someone where they weren't telling me I was the scum of the Earth -- which, honestly, bless the three people I talked to, they were so sweet (which actually included someone from the Japanese side of the fandom whose art I loved too... yeah it got pretty far. Once I sent them a message though it was cleared up quickly and they did post a clarification post about ULR and me, so that was nice to see.) -- I finally got the chance to realize that this was a misunderstanding from the beginning, from both sides, where people coming at me were saying I was doing all of the stuff above and probably more but those stuck the most, while I was confused as to where this information and accusations were coming from and what they were referring to in the first place. They probably never explained it in the anon asks because, well, they probably assumed I knew what I was doing, but when they came at me about something I didn't do with vague context of something I did do, I was very confused, and got really defensive really quickly, and really honestly snapped pretty hard. After my first initial explanation post and people were still trying to tell me to stop ULR/don't call it Underlust/whatever else there was, I just got tired and told people to block me if they didn't like it. But that didn't really stop anyone and honestly made it worse because that's when I started getting really nasty messages. I like... Specifically remember one where someone called me a lowlife and a thief, and that one stuck the most, but I tended to not read through them before deleting them for my own sanity. I actually did this to one of the people who'd later talked to me calmly about it at first too, because I had just woken up, and really didn't want to read an essay lecture on everything everyone's been telling me at the crack of 7am when I was borderline ready to delete my account and start over lol

Some people I do remember were accusing me of trying to censor nsfw content or erase it as well because ULR isn't 18+, and I'm out here on my horny ass like "wh. What are they talking about, where did you get that idea, have you SEEN my ao3 recommended list," /j but in all seriousness I really didn't understand that accusation at all because I've never been against nsfw content in the slightest and lowkey? This is very dumb -- but like, you know how they say when you get hate mail, you know you've made it? Well, for me, my thought has always been, "When there's 18+ fancontent of my OC's, I'll have finally made it." This is... Not a joke, some of my friends think its very weird LMAO oh well. I've been on the internet for far too long at this point -- like, definitely since I was far too young, probably, and being with a family of the next youngest being 12 years older than me, I really dove into stuff pretty quickly I definitely shouldn't have, but hey that's life -- I'm really unfazed by mostly anything now. Hell, me making ULR was honestly half motivated by me wanting to make others more comfortable with this kind of media, discussing sexuality and otherwise sexual-considered topics, without really being embarrassed or bothered by it. Because, people talk about death and killing and whatever other gorey stuff just fine, but the moment sex comes up, people just gasp in awe, y'know? I kind of grew up that way myself but like... ironically, in being more comfortable with my asexuality, I realized that it's honestly not that big of a deal. Sure, we don't need to hear the details of everything. We don't need to hear the details of a murder either. But I will never understand how murder is always the lowest on the "morally wrong list of things to not to" to so many people and that it's fine to mention, but even consider bringing up anything else and it's like, a sin and you're a bad person. Even racism is like, higher up on there for a lot of people, which it's like... this is an issue that needs to be discussed, or it can never be solved. You can't just kick that away and hope it goes away on its own, that's never how it works.

Ah, well, now I've gone off tangent lol. Sorry to make you read a blob of text lmao but having things in a cohesive format of what I've been thinking does feel a bit better. Thank you for the support regardless, and I do want to keep making what I really enjoy, because frankly, I really want to make things that make people take a step back and think for a moment, y'know? Things that invoke like a realization in yourself about something you didn't even know. That's how fiction's always been for me, so I want to give back by making it that way too. ... maybe my horny content is exempt from this however. That's just. Self indulgence LMAO.

Probably helps that I'm actually talking this all out for once, too, since before any of this I tried to keep as much of the situation contained to myself as possible in hopes I could clean it up before it got too bad. That was, in hindsight, probably a terrible idea lol. But I didn't want to be a source of stress for anyone following me or become the new creator-to-defend that like, 50% of people hate and 50% of people love and that you're either on one side or the other and there's no where in between. (I feel like Arin Hanson comes to mind for me every time I think of someone like this.) I know I can't please everyone and I knew internet hate would come eventually, but like, didn't expect it to be over a name or tag choice. I thought that would be a simple enough DM or clearable thing but apparently not, especially since I saw someone a few weeks ago delete their blog over a similar thing (though, the opposite, in a way: posting nsfw in a sfw tag by mistake). It wasn't in the UT fandom so y'all probably weren't following them (tbf I wasn't either, I just witnessed it happen from start to finish), but it was still disheartening.

Anyway, thank you, and sorry to make ya read all of that (if you actually did vahdbs don't blame you if you don't it's a lot of thought dump lmao)💕💕

#zircon answers #anonymous #all this happened like the DAY i got accepted onto the bhc team to and i was like #alright guys am i being kicked out day one lol #like i was expecting the worst from this whole thing #but im still kind of happy with how i worked it out #i really wish more people were like #willing to talk things out rather than just spit in a general direction and hope youll listen #because like even the people i talked to calmly some of them were pretty rude at first! but!#theyre not bad people #they were just scared for their favorite thing #i cant blame them for that and honestly i do consider the hatred justified under the circumstances that they knew #but they were all really nice after we talked things out #and were like 'i hope your series does well' and that really meant a lot honestly #death mention tw//

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silverdriftdragon · 5 years

Text

He Always Knew

X - Completed

O - Requested

@badthingshappenbingo

Kay so apparently I lied and the next thing I post WILL be request related because this request suddenly slapped me in the face at 12am! :D Hopefully there are minimal technical errors and I hope you enjoy!!

Also, if you haven't heard, Ferdibert week will be held the first week of December! Details on twitter now!

You can also read this on Ao3!

Hubert always knew Ferdinand was far too good for him. The man was like the sun. Bright, blinding… dangerous if one was not careful. His personality practically radiated warmth and happiness despite all that had happened. Then there was him. Dark, sinister… often mistaken for a rat bearing the plague. Not that he blamed those who thought of him in such a way. Yet, Ferdinand had chosen him, for some goddess forsaken reason. The man seemed to have not a worry in the world about the things Hubert had done or the things he had said. Even the less than vague threats when they were younger did not deter Ferdinand from stating his love for Hubert with great frequency and in the most dramatic of ways. From lavish dinner and opera dates to something as simple as making him a cup of coffee in the mornings… he always made sure that Hubert knew of his love. Hubert was never as good with this kind of thing, but he tried his best. Most of his affection came in the form of simple phrases and small gifts, though it never felt like enough comparatively speaking. Yes, Hubert was well aware that Ferdinand was in a league far above his own.

So maybe he should have seen this coming.

It started small, waking up to find that Ferdinand was already gone for the day and no smell of coffee in the room. Surely he was just busy, Hubert had thought. No cause for concern. So he said nothing. After about three days, Ferdinand started coming back late as well, citing that he was simply taking care of work. The love-drunk fool he was, Hubert said nothing. That soon became avoiding him during the day, using Caspar, Dorothea, even Edelgard to cover his track. That he almost didn’t notice, except Caspar slipped up and nearly said something about Ferdinand meeting someone and his heart sank. Pain and jealousy had started to eat away at him. Could it be true? Had Ferdinand found someone else? Did he finally see how much better he could do? The questions twisted his stomach in knots…. But still he said nothing.

It wasn’t until one day, having not been sleeping well and getting by only on coffee and spite, he caught Ferdinand out to brunch. That in itself would never have been an issue. Ferdinand was his own man, he was certainly allowed to take a meal without Hubert. And he was certainly allowed to take that meal with another… but with everything else that had been happening and seeing him with the one person he was always afraid would steal his precious sun from him… His heart broke. Seeing how Lorenz so effortlessly brought a smile to Ferdinand's face, how easily they laughed together, and that look… that loving look that Ferdinand had always gave to him and him alone… It was too much. Hubert stormed away, jaw clenched and tears pricking at his eyes. Most people were smart enough to move out of his path, except Caspar, who tried to ask what was wrong, only to get grabbed by the face and practically thrown out of the way. He made it to his quarters and slammed the door closed, sliding down against it and letting out an angry, strangled sob. He always knew this could happen. Oh yes, Hubert was very aware of how much better Ferdinand deserved…

But he never expected it to hurt this bad.

---

Ferdinand parted company with Lorenz after a rather enjoyable and quite productive brunch. Everything was finally in place, ready finally for something he should have done a long time ago. He just hoped that in the end Hubert might come to forgive him. He was headed back to the palace, cheerfully humming to himself as he approached the steps. There he found Caspar and Dorothea, engaged in what seemed to be a rather enthralling conversation, so he gave them a wave so as not to interrupt. However, when they stopped and gave him a worried look, he walked over closer to them, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Greetings, Caspar! Dorothea!” He started cheerfully. The two looked at each other and then back at Ferdinand, neither saying a word. It was almost as if they were hesitant to speak. “Is.. Something the matter?”

“Well…” Dorothea started, trying to find the best way to tell him about what happened. However, Caspar's hot temper beat her to it, mad all over again about it.

“Yeah. Hubert came storming by here and when I tried to ask him what was wrong, he threw me on my ass. By my face!”

“Hubert came…” Ferdinand was trying to process what had just been said to him. “He did not give any indication of what was wrong? How long ago was this?”

“No, but I've got a guess…” Dorothea sighed, looking at the redhead with concern. “Ferdie… you know Hubie doesn’t think he's good enough for you, right?”

“Nonsense! It is I that struggles to be enough for him.” There was a loving tone to his voice and a flash of sincerity across his face. “It is why I have gone to such lengths to make sure every detail for tomorrow is absolutely perfect. It is what he deserves.”

“Yes, we know Ferdie… but I think he got the wrong idea. Weren’t you just at brunch with Lorenz?”

“Well, yes, but I…” he trailed off as the realization of what she was implying clicked in his mind. His entire demeanor changed and his time turned to panic. “I-I must go. Did you happen to see where it is he went?”

“I didn’t… but if I had to guess, he went to your shared quarters.”

“Thank you, Dorothea, for telling me… Oh I feel like a fool…” He didn’t give either of them time to respond as he went rushing off. He absolutely had to find Hubert and set things right. He only hoped that the mage would listen.

He soon found himself staring at the door to his and Hubert's room, hesitation gripping him. He had no idea what to expect once he opened that door… Would Hubert listen? Would he had to ruin the surprise just so the man would know how much he truly meant to him? Or would everything fall apart right after he finally… He shook his head. It was now or never. Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached for the door handle, only to find the door was locked. “Hubert?”

There was a rustling just behind the door but no response.

“Hubert, please. I know you are upset with me, but it is not what you think!” He pleaded, placing his hand on the door. Yet again, he received no response. With a whimper, he laid his for head next to his hand, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Please,” his voice crack as he began to please with him, “Please open the door and let me explain. Please!” He gasped as he her the lock click, stepping back so he would not fall as the door finally opened. Hubert was not standing there as he had expected, instead the open doorway was empty. He came in slowly, closing the door behind him as he glanced around for the minister, finding him at the desk in the corner of the room, head in his hands.

“Well… get on with it.” It was intended to be harsh, biting, maybe a little hateful… but it only came out quiet and a little broken. It might as well have ripped Ferdinand's heart from his chest, bloody and still beating… but right now he felt that was a fate too mild for what he had done to Hubert.

“Hubert… this is all a very big misunderstanding. I-“

“What is there to misunderstand, Ferdinand??” Hubert snapped, standing up to face him. “It all seems abundantly clear to me.”

“Hubert, please, I only wanted-“

“Only wanted someone more suited to your nobility, yes? That is why you have been so secretive letting with Lorenz?? You might have done better not to try to use Caspar to cover your tracks!” Though he sounded very angry, it was more hurt than anything. He always knew this day would come… just not like this. When Ferdinand didn't respond, just staring at him in shock, Hubert took that as an admission of guilt. His voice cracked and his head dropped. “I always knew he… hmm?”

Ferdinand quietly stepped up to him, tears running down his face as he grabbed Hubert by the hand. He pulled something from his pocket and slid it on Hubert's finger, clutching his hand directly after so it could not be seen. The red head took a breath, grounding himself some so he could speak… but even still his voice wavered. “Tomorrow, we will have been together for three years. It would have been longer… but you insisted we wait until after the war because you were afraid of losing me. I-I knew then I wanted to have you at my side until the end of my days… but I never could find the right way to ask.” He paused a moment to finally meet Hubert's very stunned gaze. “I wanted to make sure it was all perfect. Every detail. But I did not want you to know what I was planning. I wanted to surprise you… and all I did was hurt you.”

“F-Ferdinand, I-“

“Please. Allow me to finish.” His voice was more steady now, but still soft. “I am so sorry to have made you think I wanted anyone else… but I hope to assure you now that that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Hubert von Vestra, it would be an honor to be by your side for the rest of my days, if you will have me.”

Hubert couldn’t do anything but stare at first as Ferdinand released his hand to reveal the ring that had been placed there. It was stunning, a custom piece no doubt, though not as flashy as he expected from such an over the top kind of man. In fact, it was quite suited to his own more subtle taste, a simply black band with three garnets embedded within. Apparently though, his lack of response did not sit well with a man who felt he was trapped in limbo.

“Hubert, please, do not torture me so. I know I have messed up… but say something. Please.” Ferdinand searched the other man's features for something, anything, to tell him what he was thinking. Finally, a soft smile crossed Hubert's face just before he pulled Ferdinand into a kiss, fingers tangling gently into nearby strands of his hair. The red head squeaked, surprised, but soon melted into it, hands coming to rest on Hubert's hips. When they parted, their foreheads pressing together, Ferdinand gave a small chuckle. “Is that a yes, perhaps?”

“Yes. I…” He trailed off, pulling back to look at Ferdinand fully. “I apologize for-“

“Say no more. It is in the past.” He gave a bright smile. That same smile that shone like the midday sun. That smile that Hubert so loved. “Even though I did not get to propose to you as I had planned…I do hope that you will still spend the day with me. It was a lot of work to arrange!”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing whatever extravagant nonsense you’ve come up this time.”

Hubert had always known Ferdinand would one day walk his own path…

And Hubert was honored to walk it with him.

#fire emblem: three houses #fe3h #ferdinand von aegir #hubert von vestra #ferdibert #hubertand #vestraegir #Aegistra #misunderstanding #bad things happen bingo #yay silver wrote something #silver writes

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tenderdorks · 5 years

Text

Sugar

Notes: Howdy, folks! It’s me, @justapalspal / @ryoubandwagon, taking a crack at writing some tendershipping on a sideblog I’ve finally given purpose to just now.

And y’all know me, I live, breathe, and eat goofy tendershipping, so have some post-canon tenderdorks while I stretch my writing muscles! Bakura buys Ryou cookies, then pretends he didn’t.

Word Count: 2722

Warnings: Save for two vague innuendos and Bakura having a semi-sailor mouth, nothing that goes above a T rating.

Ao3 Link: Here!

Oh, gods, I hate sugar, Bakura grumbled, fourth cookie crammed in his mouth. He wasn’t going to touch frosting for a month. Two months. Four was enough of them, he figured; that would be convincing.

Everything in his mouth was too creamy, though; Bakura made it to their floor and grunted, when he wasn’t crushing his teeth together. His jaw burned. His cheekbones stung a little from the force of it, too. By the time he made it to the door he was almost ready to swallow the damp lump, and he paused a second to give himself enough time to do so and scrub crumbs off his face so it wouldn’t look bad. Or suspicious.

Okay. Cool, cool.

Bakura stuck the key in the lock and pushed the door in. “Hey, Ryou.”

No response.

“...Ryou?” Bakura called, louder.

“Huh?” Ryou’s voice was loud, airy. Sounded like he was in the craft room, too; probably working on miniatures again.

“I’m back,” Bakura called, shutting the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and pushed them into some semblance of order next to Ryou’s, just lying about. Messy, but hell, the rest of the place wasn’t any better.

He shrugged his jacket off—as much as he could, anyway, while keeping the box clutched to his chest. The jacket he threw on the couch. He stared at it. He stared at the walls, the unfolded laundry strewn about. He stood there.

“From work,” he said, blankly. Gods, he sounded like a damn fool.

A few clunking sounds, a door creaking, and Ryou poked his head out the hall, breathing just a bit hard from the rush. “Ah, right.” Holy shit, Bakura was going to die. Ryou was casual as hell and yet—his face? Rosie-red? His dark eyes glimmering a bit? His torso, all fluttering with life?

“Some idiot left cookies at work and I thought you and your whole sweet tooth syndrome would devour these if I brought them home.” That idiot being Bakura and work being a euphemism for I bought them on the way home from work to give to you because I am a sap holy fuck.

He held out the box. Four were missing. It would totally look like Bakura just grabbed them from the break room, he was sure.

Ryou only cocked his head. Then, walking closer, he snorted. “Did you steal someone’s food?”

“No, it was—” Fuck. “They left it for people to take, so I took them.”

Ryou flashed a toothy grin at him. That didn’t stop him from reaching out to pop open the lid.

Bakura’s heart jittered a little, inside him. “Really.” Was that too firm? Too desperate?

“I know, I know, relax.” He held it in some, but not all, of his fingers. The cookie, that is. Ryou did. “It’s just usually when someone leaves food around it’s a ‘take one’ type of deal, not the whole thing.”

Fuck, fuck. “Ryou, five people work there, tops.”

“Take two, then.” Ryou didn’t even nibble; he went straight for cramming it into his mouth, and Bakura had no idea how he managed to make chewing with his mouth open look attracting. Or reaching for another when he hadn’t even finished that first one yet.

Take two, take two. Cocky little—

Bakura didn’t want to think too hard about the warmth twittering up in him. Twirling, and flowing, like warm smoke, seeping into his ribs. So he just watched Ryou, and in watching him, realized he had been watching Ryou far too long. Much too long to be a normal, in-passing look.

Eyes lit up, Ryou grinned at him, with that damn cookie partially obscuring his teeth. “I’m messing with you.”

Hell. “Yeah, sure.”

“Did you have an alright time at work, at least?” Ryou crunched some more, the sounds soft, and took the box out of Bakura’s numb grasp. “Tolerable, intolerable? Yay, nay?”

“It was something, I guess.” Stay cool, stay calm. Everything had gone good. It’d gone great. It was okay, Bakura, really, Bakura, why were his fingers and toes so fidgety, his head so seepingly bleh—

He clenched his hands and then his toes. Ryou hummed as he walked to the kitchen, and without thought, Bakura followed him. It was as natural as being, this mindless tug toward him. So when Ryou set the box down and opened the fridge, Bakura sat down in a chair, filtering the mechanical buzz of it out.

“Is it a good something?” Ryou didn’t turn from the fridge’s contents; his head did, though, skim and flick about, and Bakura really needed to stop watching him this much, fuck.

“Uh.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good something.” The milk carton, ah. Bakura should’ve expected that. He just didn’t expect the chocolate one to be the one Ryou wiggled by the handle, and pop open with that crispy crack—

“I—oh! Fuck that noise, my legs are ripped from all the biking. You wanna see?” Bakura grinned so wide his face burned, and reached for his pant leg—pulling it up before smacking his leg on top of the table. “Look! Feel my calves, Ryou, they’re rock hard.”

Ryou burst into snorty sounds. “Bakura.”

“Seriously! Feel my legs. I could crush a man’s head with my thighs.”

“What, and you have men’s heads there often enough that you’d need to?”

There was no way he’d heard that right. Bakura blinked blankly, still smiling. “Y—what?”

Good gods, at this point, Bakura couldn’t tell if those doe eyes were Ryou playing clueless or messing with him. “What?”

“Uh.” Cup. Ryou had a cup in his hand now, he was coming toward the table, he had that—the milk—Bakura’s eyes darted to the cookie box and his brain jolted hard to connect straws together. Anything together. “You. Oh, hell, are you—”

“Am I what?” The chair made a small, skidding yell as Ryou dragged it back to plop into. His cheeks tugged up in a lopsided grin. Bakura groaned, shutting his eyes.

“You are. Why do I even…”

The milk glugged and popped and dribbled noisily as Ryou poured it. When Bakura opened his eyes again, Ryou had a brow cocked up at him. And a grin. Cocky—

“Yes?”

Bakura’s nostril twitched. “No.”

Ryou laughed, and it bubbled through his chest. “What, Bakura?”

“Oh, you know what. You’re disgusting. You’re mixing chocolate milk with frosting?”

“Yeah?” Ryou dunked that half-eaten cookie into it, not even blinking. “And? Coward.”

Bakura scoffed. He scoffed loud, hard, enough to send his nose high and his head shaking, but it flittered into a quiet giggle, a smothered grin. Grunting, Bakura rubbed his fingers along his brow, down his eyelids. “You’re an absolute monster,” he muttered. “Gods.”

“You’re telling me this is worse than pepperoni pizza and chocolate chip ice cream.”

“I’m saying I get you sweets and you wreck them beyond any recognition.” And—okay, Bakura couldn’t help it. He giggled, and snickered, skin tingling so warm that it blazed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ryou kicked him from under the table. “You eat raw garlic. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“We’ll see when I don’t have tapeworms and you do.” Bakura kicked him back. Then he leaned far over, hunching on his elbows and arms. “You wanna try garlic, if you’re going to be nasty about food?”

Ryou jerked back like he’d been physically startled. “What? No. You are not making me eat that again.”

“It’s good.” Bakura licked his own teeth, very slowly. Very deliberately. “Zingy.”

“You look like a buffoon.” Ryou pushed his head away hard, and Bakura snorted. Maybe cackled a little. Fell back in his seat, even, giddy, as Ryou gave him a deadpan look and said, “Your tongue’s supposed to stay in your mouth.”

Bakura stuck it out at him.

“Imbecile,” Ryou muttered, dunking his cookie again.

And without a single ounce of filter Bakura tipped his own chin up and grinned and said, “If you want it to stay there so badly maybe you should make it stay, nedjeb nefer.”

”I’m...” Ryou’s eyelashes fluttered fast from how many times he blankly blinked. “I’m not sticking my hand in your mouth, what?”

Hand. Bakura snorted, lightly, out his nose. “You’re not?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes?!” Ryou’s torso jerked a moment, before sputtered, half-muffled sounds spewed out. Laughter. What a fucking dork.

“You’re really sure.”

“Yes I am really sure.”

“‘Cause you can kiss me anytime you want, I’m not gonna bite.”

“What?”

“What?” Oh holy—well alright then. For a second, Bakura lost the ability to feel. Then everything throbbed at once, shooting into a nauseating spike that made him want to get up and jig and shake his fingers and feet out until they undeniably hurt.

And all Ryou could focus on was that dang word. “Did you just say—?”

“Stuff your hand in my mouth? Yes, I did.” Put it right next to Bakura’s whole-ass foot, gods be—

“You said I can kiss you anytime I want.” Was Ryou red? Was that a flush on his face going down his neck or was Bakura hallucinating from the lightheadedness? “You did, I heard you—”

“No shit, really? How’d you get that from ‘stuff your hand in my mouth please, Ryou, just smash your fist into my esophagus?’”

Leaning in on his elbows, Ryou squinted and said, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Yes?! “Pff—ha! Ha!” Bakura contorted into some sort of human spring, legs going one way and torso the next. “No? Why would—it’s a joke, holy crap, people joke about stuff all the ti—”

“Because here I was,” Ryou said, head cocked now to one side, “about to give you want you want and smooch you, maybe. You know. If you wanted.”

Bakura had to choke down a squeak; it sounded like some odd, aborted burp. And then he went very very quiet.

What was—what was happening?

“And I finally looked up nedjeb online,” Ryou went on, swirling cookie in chocolate milk concoction like a tea party guest might stir a spoon. “Have you really been calling me ‘sweetie’ this whole time and expecting me to think it was an insult?”

Dry, thickening throat. Bakura had to swallow the gunk away to speak. “Uh.”

“‘Cause I thought you were calling me pretty boy or something at first, but.” Ryou shrugged, eyes rolling upward, head making a few idle movements. He nibbled on his cookie thoughtfully. “Eh? That’s a bit sweeter, I guess.”

“I—uh—r… right.” Right. Some of the tightness was his spine locking up, Bakura realized. Ah, that was it. He sunk down in a vain attempt to relax it. Then he just plopped onto his arm, leaning all his weight on it. Buzzing fingers started tapping.

And kept tapping.

Tap tap, tap tap.

All he could hear was Ryou’s chewing.

“Maybe a peck on the cheek,” Ryou mumbled, sounding aimless. “Take this nice and slow.”

“They got nedjeb up online?” Bakura didn’t usually squeak, but this one was a bit hoarse, so it didn’t count. At all. He winced and sunk lower anyway.

Ryou puffed a laugh out his nose. “One of the few words from Ancient Egyptian they got up that’s easy to find, yeah.”

“Fuck.” Bakura dug his face down into his arm, then the table. End him. End him now. He felt too exposed, like eyes bored into his back, like every ounce of his skin had attention on it and he was a tingling display—

“It’s a cute word, now that I know what it means, not gonna lie.”

Bakura breathed deeply, noisily, in through his nose. Okay. Okay. He rocked a bit, trying to psych himself up, because come on, holy crap, he could deal with this, what was even happening though he could deal with this—

He shot his head up, blinking the imprint of lights from his eyes. His vision wasn’t blurry, per se, but he could definitely feel his ability to process it wither.

“Are those—any good?” Bakura flapped a hand at the box. Good, yes. Carry on like nothing happened.

Something about it made Ryou’s brows furrow. “These?” He turned his head to eye them. One side of his mouth tugged up. “Would I be eating them if they weren’t?”

“You eat shit combinations and then have the gall to say you can cook.” The itchiness spread up Bakura’s neck. Behind his ears, tingling, buzzing. He scratched at it hard, digging his nails into his roots. “But. You like them.”

“Yeah?” Ryou punctuated this by reaching over for the whole box.

“Cool. Cool, good, right. Yeah.” What the hell. All this nodding was going to snap Bakura’s neck in two, he was sure.

“Thank you, I don’t think I said that.”

“No problem.” Bakura rocked his chest a bit with the nodding, now.

Ryou laughed a bit, definitely awkward; not meeting Bakura’s eye; turning his head one way, then back the other while putting his mouth into his palm. His arm balanced him just barely on the table. “No, really. That was really nice of you to think of me, when you saw the—”

“Eat the goddamn cookies,” Bakura wheezed.

Ryou scoffed. It stayed muffled in his palm. “Well alright, sourpuss.”

And then they… sat like that. Nothing special. Perhaps too much nothing special, even with the hum of the air conditioning blaring, and the faint chatter in the background from other apartment goers drowned out by the walls and halls.

Eventually, Bakura’s foot started running a mile under the table, bouncing so hard his ankle burned.

“Bakura, do you like me?” Ryou asked, out of absolutely nowhere, except only a little not, and Bakura couldn’t even fathom how to respond anymore. “Because I’m absolutely oblivious, most of the time. I used to think crushes mean basically stalking because of my high school fanclub, and I don’t always pick up on the cues—”

“Holy crap, what do you think I mean by getting you sweets when I hate them but you don’t? Gah!” Bakura scrunched his face up. His eyes crushed shut.

“Oh! Good.” Through the numb pounding in his chest, Bakura cracked a slow eye open. Ryou smiled at him, lips closed, mouth full, crumbs on his cheek. “I think I like you too. You’re fun to be around now.”

Oh. Oh, well okay. Bakura eased up the rest of the way, but a layer of tension kept him stiff.

“Especially with how funny you are when I tease you.” Ryou leaned over to pinch his cheek and gave it a good tug. All Bakura felt was the soft stinging yank at his gums and cheekbones, and Ryou jiggling it again, again, and Bakura stared—well, gawked—the whole time, because Ryou’d just said—

“Ahh yuu—fuhk, leggo!” Bakura scrunched up as much of his face as he could then, which was just his nose really, and shook him off.

And Ryou just giggled, low and bright and giddy. “Awww, but your cheeks are so cute!”

“Are you serious? I’m going to—fuck!” Bakura stomped once, twice, three times with all his weight and both feet, before throwing his head up and back. “Aaaaaah!”

“Neighbors, Bakura.” Now Ryou spoke in faux-whispers. Cheeky ones. He smirked, lopsided and just as goofy as any time he did. “And save that for later.”

He was one hundred percent messing with Bakura. Those doe eyes were a farce and Bakura balked at him anyway, body burning, face tingling, the skin of his nose buzzing—and damn it all to hell, he reached over and yanked Ryou in by the shirt so he could get a kiss for himself.

Ryou’s mouth was soft; his hands warm, and getting warmer from how they started patting frantically at Bakura, before settling down steadily on his chest. Ryou kept laughing out his nose and puffing air on Bakura’s face. Fucking hell, Bakura thought, leaning into that smile. I can do sugar, if Ryou’s the one tasting like that.

“Did you—” Ryou muttered, not even breaking away. Fucker just talked right on his mouth. “Did you eat some of these? You taste like them—”

“Please just kiss me, oh gods.” It was wonderful, how Ryou’s laughter filled his mouth and ears.

#yugioh #yami bakura #ryou bakura #bakura ryou #tendershipping #fanfic #my fic #tenderdorks #yeet!

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

Text

Ephemera Chapter Eleven

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Woohoo another chapter! I’m really excited for you guys to read this one. These days I’ve been playing around with a Namjoon fic idea 👀 haha so there’s that to look forward to once Ephemera is done! As always, thank you so much for all the love and support. I really don’t feel like I deserve it, but I’m grateful! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

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Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

A palpable hush fell over the room, coating the air in a thick film. Tension built like momentum downhill, sure to snap should anyone clear their throat or set their foot down too loudly. Taehyung stood on the stage, gaze sweeping out across the ocean of people. On his lips, a confident smile that nearly made my heart race. He cleared his throat and fussed with his cufflink once more before releasing a long sigh.

“I have a feeling that big things are coming,” said Taehyung with a smile. “And I’d like to come out from the shadows to be part of them.”

I staggered back just as rapturous applause echoed through the hall. My body felt cold, like all the heat had drained out through my toes. I bumped into a man behind me whose wide eyes showed more concern than frustration at being shoved. I bowed my head and stumbled past him, towards the massive closed doors. My vision was blurry and it took me several bracing moments in the hallway to realize that it was because I was crying. My throat was so tight it was a labor to breathe and despite the hallway being relatively empty due to the speeches, I still felt like I needed to run someplace, find a closet or something where I could be alone.

But before I could take even a step, I felt a hand on the crook of my elbow and I turned to see Jungkook with wild, wide eyes and flushed cheeks. I tried to discern any measure of anger in his expression, but found only bewilderment.

This had been Taehyung’s plan all along, huh?

Draw Jungkook out, have me play assist, and take the wind out of his sails by revealing his identity himself before Jungkook had the chance to use it against him? Knowing he’d only follow me, knowing that if the invitation came from me Jungkook would trust it…

It’d be genius if it wasn’t so cruel.

“Did…Y/N, did you know?” he asked, breathless as he turned his eyes toward me.

I shook my head, wiping my face wildly and pulling back fingers stained black with makeup. “I-I…he told me to be in-in the ballroom for the speeches and-and…,” I couldn’t finish the sentence for my sobbing.

In the end, I’d been another pawn in their game.

Just like always.

Jungkook scanned me and slowly his expression turned serious. He furrowed his brow and nodded. “You’ve been watching me for him?” he asked.

I sniffled, gasping as my tears stole my breath. “Yes,” I choked out.

Jungkook sighed, gripping his nose bridge, and slowly released his grip on my arm. “How much do you know, really?” he watched me from above like an inquisitor, like any reaction I had would be marked and recorded.

I shook my head again. “I-I…I know you were u-using me to spy on Vante,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair, undoing hours of work I’d spent on the style.

“And?” he asked, eyes flashing between mine. “This is important, okay? Did you know why?”

I sniffled and shook my head. “No…,” I said, calming down the longer I looked at the autumn brown of his eyes.

He sighed and nodded, leaning away and rubbing his jaw. “Okay…okay, okay, okay…fuck!” he shouted, kicking a silver trashcan so it fell onto its side, spilling its contents onto the carpeted floor.

I jumped, a little gasp escaping me. Everything seemed so strange, like it wasn’t real. I felt delicate. I felt like one wrong move and I’d break for real. Jungkook, noticing my reaction, turned to me with wide eyes and approached me too quickly. I stumbled back a half-step, but my heel caught in the train of my dress and I fell straight on my tailbone. Crying out in pain, I winced and squeezed my eyes shut.

Jungkook looked horrified above me, brows knitting and hands outstretched like he might have hugged me if he could. His eyes were glassy. “I-I’m not…I’m not gonna hurt you-,” he began, but his words were cut short by the large door from which we’d emerged sliding open once again.

And from that door, Kim Taehyung.

Upon taking in the scene before him, Taehyung’s eyes went wide and his jaw clenched. Without a second thought, he lurched toward Jungkook and grabbed him by the collar, roughing up his suit. I stared from the floor, all the strength I’d summoned to come here in the first place fleeing through my cold fingertips. My tears were still wet against my cheeks, and as Taehyung’s nostrils flared I watched Jungkook go slack in his hands.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, huh? You still gonna act like a thug at a black-tie event?” asked Taehyung, spitting his words.

I came to my senses and jumped to my feet, quick to run toward the boys and paw at Taehyung’s suit sleeves, desperate to stop him before anyone got hurt. “Taehyung stop! He didn’t do anything-,”

“Feeling betrayed because she lured you here?” asked Taehyung, soliciting a glare from Jungkook that only made him chuckle. “Well, you can only use a person so long before they snap.”

“Taehyung,” I said, warning in my voice, yanking him by the arm.

But he was stronger than me, resisting my force. “What’d you think, huh? She’d come running to you after all you’ve done?” he asked, smirking. Something dark swam in the browns of his eyes. “Stupid.”

“Taehyung!” I shouted, forcing him to look at me as I furrowed my brow. “He didn’t hurt me. I fell on my own,” I said. I gripped my nose bridge, my tears having temporarily taken a hiatus, and sighed. “If any of you would just listen to me-,”

“Vante?” asked a deep, male voice from the ballroom doors.

I turned to meet the person, Taehyung still poised with his arms on Jungkook’s lapels, and saw someone vaguely familiar. It took me several moments of squinting to remember who it was. With a start, it came to me: the man from the club. The one whose suit I’d ruined. Tonight he wore an impeccable set, wide shoulders and clean lines, black-and-navy pinstripes. He looked like someone out of The Sopranos. I swallowed hard and glanced up to see Taehyung also frozen.

Jungkook, using the distraction, shook Taehyung off with a scowl, straightening his jacket. He wouldn’t look at me. But when his eyes met with the man’s they went wide and he scoffed, crossing his arms.

That’s right. He was supposed to supply Jungkook with tickets to this event…

Who was he then?

Taehyung turned to him with a polite grin, dusting off his jacket. “Hello,” he said gently, bowing.

The man held out a hand for Taehyung to shake and the two exchanged a smile. “It’s an honor to finally meet you,” he said, then laughed. “And to think, here of all places.”

Taehyung raised his brows. “I…don’t follow?”

The man laughed. “Oh, pardon me. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Younghoon from Sanyo Industries.”

I stiffened, edging closer to the exit. It seemed Jungkook had the same idea, and the two of us took tiny steps backwards while Taehyung and this Younghoon conversed. I eyed him sidelong, and this time he finally met my gaze. He lifted his brows and swiftly glanced toward the large glass doors behind us, leading to freedom. Like an invitation to run with him.

This time, I took it.

As silently as we could, the two of us slipped out into the blistery night. I watched as Jungkook eased the door closed with a cringe, likely praying it wouldn’t make a sound. With a sigh, he stood up straight once the door had clicked back in place, patting his pants down as they’d gotten mussed up during his scuffle. And then suddenly, we were alone once more.

I wrapped my arms about myself and shivered, glancing to the side toward the bustling street. At the other entrance, guards still maintained their post. I fished around my bag for my invitation and found it once more. At least if I had to, I could return to the gala.

Jungkook was the first to break the thick silence. “So…Vante knows we’ve been watching him.”

I nodded, sighing. “You can’t be too mad at me,” I said with a shrug. “You have been manipulating me for three months.”

All was lost anyway. At this point, my relationship with Jungkook was unsalvageable, if that was even something I wanted at all. And I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to associate with Taehyung anymore. For someone who was so very appalled by Jungkook using me, he sure used me with ease…

Jungkook nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck…,” he whispered with a sigh.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He glanced up at me, scanning me. “Will it mean anything if I say how deeply sorry I am?”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

He nodded and rubbed slow circles into his sharp jawline. “Wanna get something to eat? There’s a McDonald’s a few blocks down,” he said, jerking his chin toward it.

I sniffled, rubbed beneath my eyes, and nodded. “Yeah.”

I sat with my lips wrapped around the straw of my milkshake, eyes faraway as they settled on the worn plastic table separating me from Jungkook. He barely touched his chicken nuggets, and a large order of uneaten fries sat between us. All around, people bustled and chatted. It seemed we were the only two in the whole place that were melancholy enough not to eat the food we ordered.

“Everything’s kinda gone to shit, huh?” asked Jungkook quietly, poking a nugget with his slender index finger.

I nodded. “It was unsustainable anyway, wasn’t it?” I asked with a sigh, taking a sip and shutting my eyes. “All the lies had to come out eventually.”

“I’m surprised you’re not more mad,” said Jungkook.

I opened my eyes to look at him and he seemed near tears himself. I simply sighed. “I was mad,” I said with a nod. “At first, I was really mad.”

“And now?” he asked, eyeing me.

“More than anything…hurt,” I said with a nod. “I really loved you, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

I shrugged. “But then I realized…I didn’t even know you to begin with. The person I lost when I realized you’d been lying to me…didn’t even exist to begin with.”

“Don’t say that,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

I rested my cheek in my hand, the laughter and the yellow fluorescent lights nearly drowning out my voice. “If it hurts you so much, why did you do it?” I asked. “To ruin Vant-er, Taehyung?”

Jungkook sighed and pushed his nuggets away altogether, leaning back and crossing his arms. “It’s not Vante we were after.”

“We…I’ve known for a while, but Seokjin is in on it too, right?” I asked, raising my brows.

He nodded. “I shouldn’t be telling you this since you’ll tell Vante but, since we’re fucked anyway…,” Jungkook said with a sigh. “It’s my job. Seokjin recruited me after my dad…,” he began, then sighed and waved his hand. “Anyway, Seokjin poached me off the street since I was doing…some unsavory work at the time and told me he could give me safer work.”

I furrowed my brow. “What kind of work?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Usually petty shit. Scouting out a rich woman’s cheating husband, helping local gangs defend their territories, blackmailing company heads…not particularly legal, but we’ve done some job for city police officers so they turn a blind eye.”

“We…?”

“There’s a lot of us. Like…ranks,” he said with a shrug, glancing to the side at a couple sharing a Flurry, smiling as they talked in low, intimate tones. “I’m high up. So is Seokjin. I mean, he kinda has to be since he’s our founder.”

I nodded, sipping the thick milkshake. I felt like I might puke. “It’s not legal…,” I urged.

He chuckled, and for some reason his smile put my stomach at ease. “Of course not,” he said, glancing at me with that same smile.

I swallowed, running a hand through my hair. “I…see…”

“Do you hate me now?” he asked quietly, almost a whisper.

I stiffened and glanced at him. Vulnerability made his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed. “No, Jungkook,” I said, rubbing my temples as a tension headache began to grow. “If I did, my life would be much easier.”

He nodded. “I understand,” he said. “And…if you weren’t such a good person, you wouldn’t even be giving me the chance to explain. I feel like even now…I’m taking advantage of you.”

I sighed. “I’m here willingly, Kook. And besides, I think after all this I deserve some answers at least.”

“There’s a lot I can’t tell you,” he said, shaking his head. “About why we targeted Vante, about who hired us. I could lose a lot more than money. But…I’ll answer your questions as well as I can.”

I pushed my shake away. “Did the guilt make you crazy?” I asked.

He stiffened, like I’d surprised him, and cleared his throat. He rested his cheek in his hand and looked down at the table, avoiding my eyes. “Every day.”

“Why didn’t you just…stop then? At any point?” I asked. I chewed on my cheek, old hurt seeping through my voice. “I saw your texts with Seokjin while we were visiting my dad. He gave you an out.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed up to meet mine before quickly departing. “I…I knew that once the job was over…I’d have to stop all communication with you.”

“Are you even a student?” I asked.

His eyes went wide. “O-of course!”

I nodded. “That’s good then,” I said.

“But…,” he hedged, scratching his arm. “That class we took together…I only took it because you were taking it.”

My eyes went wide. “E-Excuse me?” I asked, heart thundering.

He groaned, lolling his head back. “God, it’s all so shitty,” he whined. “We have an intel agent who’s, like, godly at hacking. He…got your schedule and Seokjin pulled some strings with the registrar to get me in.”

“It was all…all a lie?” I asked, tears brimming once more.

He sniffled, rubbing his swollen, red eyes. “Yeah,” he said, and it sounded like a cry.

I wasn’t sure why a wave of fresh hurt washed over me, sweeping me away in the undercurrent, but my stomach was twisted in knots and my heart ached like I’d been punched. “I…I don’t think I can see you again,” I said, sniffling.

Jungkook’s eyes darted back to me, wide, worried. The color had drained from his face. “What?”

I shook my head. “I…I think it’ll hurt too much to see you,” I said, meeting his eyes. My throat constricted at the pain in his face. “Even looking at you right now,” I began, voice cracking, “I feel like I’m falling apart.” I covered my lips with my hands as more tears streaked down my cheeks.

Jungkook’s lips were agape, eyes wide, and slowly he nodded. “Ah…y-yeah, I…I understand. I did really shitty things t-to you. I wouldn’t really…wanna be around someone like that,” he said, laughing lightly as he rubbed the back of his head and looked away. It was clear he was holding back tears, and for that I was grateful.

If he cried, I knew my resolve would crumble at my feet.

I sniffled, using the McDonald’s napkin to dab my tears, and nodded. “I-I want you to live a good life, okay?” I asked, reaching out to grab his hand in mine.

He glanced at me with knitted brows and nodded. “I will,” he said, voice strangled in his throat.

I smiled, standing to my feet. “I’m gonna go back to the gala,” I said with a sigh, patting my dress as I sniffled. “I’ve got a lot of questions for Taehyung.”

Jungkook stood quickly, our untouched food forgotten, and stared at me, eyes wide. “I can walk you!”

“Jungkook-,”

“Please,” he said, brows knitted, imploring me.

I shut my eyes with a sigh and shook my head, turning on my heel. “Fine,” I said, already halfway to the exit.

The walk back to the venue was long and silent. Old blisters from weeks of working in bad pumps pressed against the thin straps of my new shoes. I’d taken only a brief moment to fix up my makeup in the McDonald’s bathroom, but I knew it wasn’t really salvageable. Like many things, there was no way to bring it back to how it was before.

We approached the entrance once more and, with my eyes on the concrete below my feet, I turned to Jungkook and bowed my head. “Thanks for walking me,” I said quietly, scratching at my arm as my gaze darted around.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Ah…yeah. Um, thanks for…letting me.”

I nodded, finally lifting my gaze to find him staring down at me. I forced a smile. “Thanks for the last few months, Jungkook.”

He nodded, cheeks red and eyes still glassy. “Mhm,” he said, gently reaching out to take my hand. I let him. “If…if nothing else, I want you to know I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I said, scanning him as he watching his nimble fingers tracing my skin.

“It doesn’t change anything, does it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes. “I…I could leave it behind, you know.”

I stiffened, staring at him with wide eyes. “You could what?”

He met my eyes, thick brows knitted, and nodded. “I could quit.”

I swallowed hard. The selfish part of me longed to tell him to do it, to encourage him to leave the bad work in the past, to move forward being good. But…then I remembered a few clues. He’d mentioned his mother having to work because his dad wasn’t the best. He said something about his dad before, about when he was working on the street…

Did he have any other options?

I clenched my free hand around my clutch and exhaled, long and slow. “Jungkook…,” I began, eyeing him. “Is that what you want to do?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing, running a hand through his hair. “Is it what you want me to do?”

A dark nostalgia washed over me. Wasn’t this eerily similar to that conversation we’d had before? When he asked if I was unhappy? “I…I want you to,” I said, then shook my head. “But that’s been a problem all along, hasn’t it?”

He glanced down at me, vulnerability in his eyes. “Huh?”

“You’ve always been tailoring yourself to me,” I said, unlacing our fingers so I could press a palm to his hot cheek. “Because you needed me for the job…you’ve molded yourself into my perfect guy. I wonder if you’ve ever been alone with yourself long enough to know who you are.”

He furrowed his brow. “Are you saying it’s okay if I keep working?”

I sighed, letting my fingers feather across his jawline. “I’m saying that what I want more than anything is for you to know yourself well enough to know what you want.”

He inhaled sharply, shoulders pinching, and took my hand once more, pressing it against his lips without moving them. “We’re gonna have to find a new angle since Vante’s out,” said Jungkook, lifting his eyes quickly toward mine. There was a hunger there that made my heart race. Hungering for what?

“I figured,” I said with a nod. “Are…are you gonna hurt anyone? Doing this?”

He sighed, shutting his eyes and resting his lips once again against my knuckles. “I hope not,” he began, shaking his head. “But there’s no victimless crime.”

“And you’re okay with that?” I asked, quiet.

He swallowed hard. “Have to be.”

Before I could say another word, a couple of guests stumbled out of the door behind us, clearly inebriated as they were escorted out by security. They fell in heaps on the concrete outside, mumbling as they dusted themselves off. And, like a broken spell, my senses returned to me and I slowly pulled away, letting my hand drop to my side. Jungkook opened his eyes to look at me, and there was a sad understanding in the way his eyes narrowed slightly.

I shook my head, watching the ground. “I’m gonna go inside.”

“Alright.”

“I…I think it’s best if you lose my number.”

“I understand.”

“And,” I said, taking a half-step back toward the venue, tears making my throat constrict, my voice heavy, “please take care of yourself.”

He nodded, smiling softly, and raised a hand to wave me off. “I will,” he said.

“Goodbye, Jungkook,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

He turned halfway toward the street and nodded his head once, still smiling, before turning on his heel and retreating down the sidewalk with his hands jammed into his pockets.

It took me a few quiet moments standing dumbly outside the Exhibition Center to realize he didn’t say it back.

When I returned to the ballroom I saw Taehyung surrounded by swarms of people, his cheeks flushed as he smiled brightly for each of them. Quietly, I ordered a drink from the bar and took a few sips, watching him from a distance. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to him. Not only had he been lying to me, he’d taken advantage of my relationship with Jungkook to further his own agenda. While I would have been supportive from the start, the deception was what bothered me. And something else, something deeper.

The lack of agency.

I felt much like a chess piece being forced across the board by many, invisible hands.

As Taehyung chatted, I saddled up to a barstool and sat down, rubbing my sore ankles with a wince. “Rough night?” said a voice from beside me.

I opened my eyes and glanced toward the voice. A young man, maybe a few years my senior, with warm brown eyes, sideswept silver hair, and dimples on either cheek gazed at me gently. I bowed my head in greeting which he returned. With a sigh, he shucked off his coat, seemingly having just arrived at the bar himself. He waved over the bartender who was quick to fix him a drink, not even asking his order once.

Another important man.

I scowled and nursed my own drink, sipping lightly. “You can’t even begin to imagine,” I said, frowning at the amber liquor.

He laughed. “Try me,” he said, still smiling. “Tonight hasn’t really been my night either.”

I eyed him. The idea of someone else being just as miserable as me was enticing. “How so?”

He hummed and took a deep swig of his drink, cocking his head to the side before shrugging. “Well, I found out some concerning news about my friend,” he began, counting on his fingers as he went. “I bought this new suit for tonight, but the sleeves are too short.” I chuckled, relief streaming through my veins as a brief flash of comfort came with it. He smirked. “And nobody even cared about my speech because of Tae-er, Vante,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Wasn’t even that good of a speech,” I mumbled.

He laughed. “You don’t like him?”

I shook my head. “He’s my friend,” I said, then sighed. “At least he was. Turns out he’s been keeping a lot from me.”

“Ah,” said the young man with a knowing nod, tipping his drink against his lips. “You didn’t know?”

“You did?”

He gave me a wink over the rim of his glass. “Of course,” he said, then leaned closer with a smile. “I knew him before he was Vante.”

I stiffened and turned toward him, giving him my full attention. “You did? How?”

“We worked at a bookstore together-god, was it five years ago? He was eighteen,” he said with a scoff. “Couldn’t even describe the amount of stars in his eyes. The optimism kinda got beat outta him those days, working all day and night. But he kept at it.”

“It paid off,” I said.

“And then some,” added the man with a laugh, swirling his drink in his hand. “He helped me when I was really struggling. Anyway, he’s a good friend. Maybe my best friend.”

I eyed him. “And…he’s a good person right?” My voice was small as a mouse.

The man laughed, shaking his head at me. “What would ever make you think he wasn’t?” he asked. “Taehyung is one of the best people I know.”

I sighed, relieved. “And I can trust him?”

The man smiled at me, giving my upper arm a brotherly pat. “He’s still young and headstrong, maybe a little hotheaded…but I’d trust him with my life.”

I nodded, offering a smile. “Thank you,” I said.

He shook his head, and seemed about to speak again, but noticed something behind me that made him quickly stand to his feet. He was tall and lean, more imposing than he seemed sitting, and he quickly collected his things to leave.

He gave me a quick grin before patting my shoulder. “I gotta blast. Man of the hour’s coming this way and I’m not feeling quite ready to face his fan club.”

My eyes went wide and I turned to find that, indeed, Taehyung was making his way over toward me, surrounded on all sides by guests who simply wouldn’t leave him alone.

I returned my attention back to the man and gaped as he began rushing in the opposite direction, waving over his shoulder. “Traitor!” I called after him, to which he only laughed and jogged away, his jacket draped over his forearm.

As Taehyung finally approached me, I was quick to stand myself, facing him with a cocked brow as the crowd parted to make way for me. “Hey,” he said, breathless, with a smile.

I nodded, eyeing the group around him. “Quite the celebrity.”

He chuckled and rubbed his neck. “I guess so,” he said. “We…uh, we should talk, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling at the group as I wrapped my fingers around Taehyung’s bicep. “Pardon me, but I’m going to have to steal Mr. Vante for a few minutes.”

A few in the group chuckled, good-natured as they likely wanted to make a good impression, and I led Taehyung by the arm toward a less crowded corner of the ballroom. Far from prying eyes and ears, the two of us stood close as he offered an almost bashful smile. Gone was the cocky, angry guy who had nearly caused a fight with Jungkook only an hour earlier. In his place, a blushing boy who couldn’t so much as look at me straight on.

“So you’re Vante?” I asked.

He chuckled, nodding as he glanced at his polished black shoes. “Yeah,” he said, then snapped his eyes up to meet mine, worried. “I’m sorry I lied! I just panicked because I didn’t want you to think I was creepy.”

“And now?”

He chuckled and looked toward the portraits on the wall. “Well…now there are things that I need to protect and this was the only way I could do it.”

“Protect what?” I asked, surprised by my own stern tone.

He turned wide eyes to me as I crossed my arms. “Well, you and…other things,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna involve you anymore. I’m assuming you saw Jungkook out?”

I nodded, eyes drifting to the tiles below my feet. “Yeah,” I said.

“That must’ve been hard for you.” There was a tender understanding in his voice, like he knew.

“You didn’t make it much easier,” I said, shaking my head. “Seriously, Taehyung? Attacking him out there? What was that about?”

He shook his head. “I thought he was hurting you,” he said, brows knit.

“He wouldn’t do that. And besides, I kept trying to tell you-,”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, once again cutting me off.

I stiffened, holding in my breath for a moment before exhaling slowly. “It’s…fine,” I said with a shrug. I turned to him once more. “What’s not fine, though, is what you did tonight. You didn’t tell me anything. You let me lead him here, blind, and made me a pawn.”

“You weren’t a pawn-,”

“Honestly, is that all it was about tonight?” I asked, scoffing as I leaned away. “You said it was about me getting revenge, but as far as I see it, you’re the only one who benefited.”

“Benefit?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Do you know how long I’ve been guarding my identity? Do you know how much my privacy means to me?”

I eyed him. “I don’t,” I said, some of the anger leaving my voice. “But the way I see it, you won at my expense. You took away Jungkook’s angle. The only thing he could have possibly had on Vante was the fact that his identity was a secret. Without that, you’ve made yourself untouchable,” I said, shaking my head. “And I was just a means to an end.”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, frustration clear in his face. “Why are you being like this?”

“Don’t like it?” I asked, cocking a brow. “You’re the one who’s always saying I need to advocate for myself.”

“Listen,” he said, calming down slightly as he rested his palms on my shoulders. “I get that you’re hurt. I shouldn’t have lied to you for so long. And I should have consulted you about the plan. But I knew you wouldn’t be able to reckon with your conscience if you knew you’d be ruining his job and getting him in real trouble, so I had to keep it to myself. But don’t say that I’m the only one who benefited,” he said, eyes imploring me. “You proved you’re not someone to mess around with. And you showed him that you were the one playing him.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced away, rubbing beneath my eyes. “I don’t want to play people, Taehyung.”

“What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?” he asked softly.

I blinked at him, thinking. “I…guess, maybe we’d…call him out or something? Lure him here and…,” I trailed off. Truthfully, I hadn’t even really paused to consider it. I was too intoxicated by the idea of exacting revenge that I never even asked how we’d do it.

Taehyung sighed. “I’m truly sorry,” he said, and I knew he was sincere.

He’s still young and headstrong, maybe a little hotheaded…but I’d trust him with my life.

I sighed and my arms fell to my side along with my defenses. Slowly, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest. Stunned at first, it took Taehyung a few moments to return my embrace, but when he did it was warm. He rubbed circles into my back as I struggled not to cry.

“You did really well,” said Taehyung quietly against my hair. “I know it must have been hard to say goodbye to someone you loved a lot.”

I nodded. “Yeah…,” I said quietly. But something was still nagging at me.

Agency.

After all, wasn’t I still just a tool to both of them?

Slowly, I pulled back and smiled gently at him. “Sorry I got mad,” I said.

He shook his head. “Don’t be. I’d be mad too,” he said with a laugh, gently rubbing beneath my right eye with his thumb, likely removing stray makeup.

I sniffled and glanced back toward the heart of the ballroom. The music was still playing softly, and a few drunk guests were swaying around one another. A few of them caught Taehyung’s eye and began moving toward him. Again, I understood that young man’s urge to run. Patting his chest, I slipped past Taehyung, on a beeline for the exit.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Taehyung asked, turning his torso my way.

I chuckled. “Outside,” I said, jerking my head towards the group approaching him. “I don’t think I’m the one they wanna see.”

Before Taehyung could protest, he was once again swarmed and I used his momentary distraction to slip outside, finding myself beneath an awning once I’d left the infamous hallway. I sighed and wandered through the courtyard, past closed shops and dark windows. I paused in an alcove beside the massive SMTown sign that lit up the night sky.

I glanced down toward the building’s entrance and found a figure I vaguely recognized. Jacket-less and tall with spindly limbs, it was the same man from before. I took a few steps toward him, my heels clacking on the ground. I was surprised he didn’t notice me.

Quietly, I approached him with a smile. “K-pop fan?” I asked once I’d reached his side.

He jumped and turned to me with wide eyes, an unlit cigarette hanging between his teeth. “Jesus! Scared me,” he mumbled with a laugh. He raised a lighter to his cigarette and, shielding it with his left hand, struggled to light the end.

I smiled. “Let me,” I said, grabbing for the lighter and angling myself between his cigarette and the breeze that kept snatching his light. Within a few seconds, his cigarette was burning and his eyes were wide, smiling gently.

“You smoke?” he asked, raising his brows.

I laughed. “No,” I said, cracking my knuckles as the two of us stood side-by-side in the empty walkway. If I just took the stairs hidden to the left, I’d be at the subway station, on my way home. “I grew up on a ranch out in the countryside without a lot of modern appliances so I know my way around a lighter.” The man gave me a puzzled look and I chuckled.

He nodded, taking a puff and blowing it out into the night. “Well, at any rate, thanks.”

I shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

“Did you get to talk to Taehyung?” he asked.

I sighed, watching my hands as I played with the latch on my clutch. “Kinda.” The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. Hell, what kind of conversation was it if he wouldn’t even tell me what he had to protect?

The man laughed and eyed me in the navy darkness. “Don’t sound too pleased.”

“Because I’m not,” I said, sighing. “He’s keeping things from me.”

“Are you two that close?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I dunno. Doesn’t really feel like it,” I said, then glanced at him. “I work at his gallery, but he invited me tonight because of some shady shit my boy-er, ex-boyfriend was doing.”

He raised his brows. “You’re Y/N?” he asked, eyes round like saucers.

I stiffened, leaning away from him slightly. He didn’t give me any creepy vibes before, but now in the dark, looking at me in awe with a lit cigarette dangling in his lips, I wondered if I’d been naive to be so trusting.

“Y-Yes?” I asked.

He laughed and my worries were dispelled. He patted his thigh with a disbelieving scoff. “No fuckin’ way,” he said, taking a drag and eyeing me from above. “Well, isn’t this just serendipity?”

I glanced at him sidelong, brows knit. “Have you been looking for me?”

He shook his head. “Nah, just that Taehyung told me about you and your,” he paused to clear his throat and give me a smirk, “ex-boyfriend.”

“What?” I asked, stunned for a moment. “He’s been telling you?”

“Well, it does involve me,” he said, then furrowed his brow. “Hasn’t he told you about why they’ve been targeting him?”

I raised my brows. “No. Nobody will tell me anything.”

The man nodded and smiled gently, glancing back at his wristwatch with a cringe. “Shit, I’ve gotta get back in there. A host can’t be gone too long,” he said, smirking. He fished around in his pocket for a moment before producing a business card. “If you want someone to tell you what’s really going on, give me a call.”

“Host…?” I began, but before I could say much else, he’d turned on his heel and made it several paces away from me, leaving me with the lingering scent of nicotine and confusion. “Wait!” I called, watching his back retreat.

I was about to go after him, but paused beneath the scant light to read his business card, hoping to call him by name. But as I did, I got the sinking, ominous feeling that I was about to become even more enmeshed in this intricate mess.

Kim Namjoon

CEO and Founder

Ori Technologies

XXXX Yeongdong-daero, Gangnam-gu

Seoul, South Korea

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brookeandrylee · 4 years

Text

Chapter Seven

Brooke allowed herself to lay next to Ry for a good five minutes.

She stared at the cieling, trying to piece together exactly how this happened, how things got so out of hand.

She looked over to Rylee, still coming down from her high, and smiled. It was small, but there. She got up a moment later, finding her clothes strewn about her office and getting dressed. She placed Ry's clothes in a pile on the chair she had been sitting in earlier.

Brooke picked up the toys and cleaned the floor, all that was left was her desk that Ry was still sprawled across.

Brooke rubbed her arm awkwardly, "uh... when you're ready, your clothes are over there. I'm really sorry about this, I shouldn't have gotten into personal topics. You're extra credit should be applied by tomorrow." She tried to sound detatched, to pretend that what happened was just a dream. She needed to regain some semblance of professionalism.

Ry laid next to Brooke, their arms brushing as shock waves still sent through her. She looked around, vaguely, thinking about nothing in particular except the way that her back stuck to the desk. She could feel Brooke looking at her and her chest got tight. Was she mad about this? Suddenly Ry felt really self conscious.

She brought her arms across her chest, brushing Brooke as she did. Without saying anything, Brooke got up and got dressed, cleaning along the way. Did Ry do something wrong? She sat up and watched Brooke, keeping her arms crossed and bringing her knees up to her chin.

As Brooke turned to her, gesturing to the clothes, Ry suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Oh, um, yeah, sorry.” She got up from the desk and slid her bra and underwear back on, careful to not look Brooke in the eyes.

She looked at the desk, a mixture of too many different types of fluid coated the dark mahogany wood.

“I um, I have some Clorox wipes in my bag. I need them for my biology class and...” she trailed off. It didn’t seem like Brooke really cared. At least...not like she did before everything happened.

Ry silenced herself, walked over to her bag and simply toon out the wipes to clean off the desk. Ry didn’t really expect that this was anything other than sex, but usually there were a few pleasantries. Flirting maybe? Ry thought she’d try to test the waters.

As she wipes off the desk in only her underwear, she jutted out her ass trying to show off for her professor.

“So..” she started, a seductive tone to her voice. “I know I haven’t been doing my work, does that mean I should come back tomorrow for some more...extra credit?” She turned to look at Brooke is smiled, a glistening in her eye.

Brooke blushed at the subtle flirt. She wanted more, and so did Brooke, but it wasn't smart for her to put this girls education as well as Brookes job in jeopardy.

"Uhm, I have office hours tomorrow, you can stop by if you want, I can print up a worksheet or something for you to study." She kept her gaze on the ground, trying not to get sucked back in to the girls tempting eyes.

"We can work something out after class or whenever, you have my email." She smiled, looking over to her, the post sex glow made her look like an angel, sinning for the first time. It left Brooke wanting so much more. "We can talk some other time.”

Ry felt a pang in her chest. She knew what Brooke was doing, why she was doing it, but it didn’t make sense. After all, they had already had sex. The rule was already broken, there was no putting it back together. Things weren’t going to go back to the way that they were before. And Brooke has to have known that? She did know that, right?

Ry felt embarrassed and hurt, but still couldn’t help but lightly smile at the way Brooke’s hair was still such a mess.

She watched as Brooke’s eyes sparkled, wishing so badly that she could kiss her again. But she knew what would Brooke do if she tried.

Ry could feel her hurt turning to anger as her face and chest got hot. She wasn’t used to getting rejected, especially not while she stood naked in front of the woman that she had slept with moments ago. And who was Brooke to reject Ry anyhow? As if Brooke wasn’t just begging to cum. Brooke spoke to her as if she didn’t want it just as bad, if not more, than Ry. This wasn’t a one-person game and if Brooke though that, she was going to be sorely mistaken.

Ry walked forward, throwing on her jeans and huffing.

“Yeah, no thanks...,” she muttered, not looking up. “I don’t really care enough about the class to go that far out of my way. I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow for class, if I go...” she trailed off.

She grabbed her shirt and threw it around her shoulders, buttoning it as fast as she could. As she grabbed her backpack, she brought her gaze up to meet Brooke’s, a hint of tears in her eyes. She wanted to scream at her. She stood there, acting like she was better than Ry, more mature. Acting like she didn’t want this. Pretending...pretending that nothing happened. Ry threw her bag around her shoulders.

“Bye, Professor Fields.” She scoffed.

Brooke sighed, "Ry... I didn't mean to hurt you" she reached for her arm before dropping it.

"I'm sorry, please, try to understand where I'm coming from" she sounded exasperated, but she didn't expect Ry to understand why this couldn't continue, she was young, without so much to worry about.

She didn't want her to get hurt. So Brooke would end it here, and Ry coukd be angry, but at least she wouldn't get kicked out of school, as long as no one found out. "Please Ry... discretion is crucial here" she said before the student left.

Brooke felt a tear slip down her cheek. She wiped it away silently and reorganized her desk. After her office was clean again she took her coat and keys and left for her car.

When she got hone she fed her cats and took a shower, the memories of qhat had happened played through her mind on repeat. It wasn't long before she was touching herself to the idea of her fantasy turned reality.

She came twice that night at home. Once in the shower, once before she fell asleep in bed. Both times she called Ry's name as it happened.

Ry felt Brooke touch her arm and unwanted electricity spread from the place that Brooke’s hand just sat. The exhilaration of Brooke’s touch just made her angrier.

“Don’t patronize me, Brooke,” she spat, venom spraying from her voice. “I wouldn’t want anyone knowing I fucked you either.” She looked into Brooke’s eyes as she shouted at her, before leaving.

Ry walked down the hall to a nearby bathroom, tears silently running down her cheeks. She pulled her backpack tight and hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller as she walked the corridor. Ry hated crying, but she always cried when she was angry. And Brooke’s attitude didn’t help at all.

It was easier for Ry to be mad at Brooke. She didn’t want to blame her, but it was easier than thinking that it was her own fault...than wondering what she had done wrong.

She swung open the bathroom door and let out a few hard breaths. This woman didn’t deserve Ry’s tears, she had made that very clear. Ry rinsed her face with cold water and was able to calm herself down. She waited in the bathroom until she heard the clicks of Brooke’s shoes down the hallway and she knew that she was gone.

Ry began to make her way back to her dorm. It was late, so her suite mates were waiting for her in their living room. She smiled, made pleasantries, told them about her day (while excluding the hours she spent with her professor, of course). After a few minutes of chatting, she excused herself to her bedroom.

Ry pulled two granola bars and a Gatorade out of her closet and sat her bed, watching her fish. It was nights like these that she was happy to have a room to herself.

She scrolled through twitter mindlessly until she landed on a meme

“When she changes the LEDs to red”.

Ry looked up at the LED lights she had around the top edges of her walls. She didn’t want to, but they immediately made her think of Brooke. She began fantasizing about Brooke opening the door and topping her this time. Before long she was playing with herself to the idea of Brooke fucking her on her bed.

After Ry finished, she flicked off her lights and set an alarm. She didn’t want to go, but she had to see Brooke tomorrow. She just needed to. At least if she was going to be able to continue orgasming as hard as she had that night.

“Ugh..” she groaned. “9 o clock it is.” She said, giving herself enough time to get ready before Brooke’s 10am class. Ry already knew that tomorrow was gonna suck.

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