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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom (part 3 - FINALE) | Andy Barber x reader

(part 1) (part 2)

summary: andy knows how to take what he wants, and he wants you.

word count: 5.6k

warnings: SMUT, subtle dubcon elements, loss of virginity, infidelity (obviously), wedding ring kink (shocking!!! jk),

a/n: wow, after all this time I FINALLY finished this series. sorry it took so long. I still have an alternate ending that I want to write... but I wanted to go ahead and get this out first. thank you everyone for your patience! I kind of expect this to flop despite being the most requested thing ever, but idgaf.

“Honestly? I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends.”

For the second time that day, you choked.

“Wh— are you okay?” Jacob gasped, running over to you as you coughed up water.

Your attempt to respond was useless as you could only sputter and cough, trying to communicate that you were fine with a casual wave, but only managing to flail your arm wildly.

“Was it something I said?” he pressed.

“No, I just—” you wheezed, but interrupted yourself with another coughing fit as your eyes watered from the lack of air.

He slapped your back to try to help you along but it wasn’t very effective, just adding one new source of pain to your predicament. I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends, that was what he’d said. What does that even mean? Did he mean it like “I always had this fear, for no good reason,” or did he mean it like “I was always afraid of this, and now it’s come true”?

The way Jacob was looking at you— kind, concerned, patient— it didn’t seem like he suspected you of anything. He probably would’ve led with that if he knew something, right?

When your airways finally cleared and you were able to start catching your breath, you finished getting ready for bed quickly and hopped into bed. You couldn’t handle any long conversations with Jacob, though you tolerated some cuddling before you fell asleep.

You dreamt that night that you were drowning. Andy was holding you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulled you to shore. Or was he pulling you under? Either way, you figured you’d had enough water in your lungs for one day.

You probably should’ve let them win at Scrabble… you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I have…” Jacob trailed off as he counted in his head, “177 points.”

“209,” Laurie announced, reaching over to rub Jacob on the shoulder sympathetically. “Sorry, honey.”

“384,” Andy grinned, setting down his pen and pad triumphantly and looking to you for your score.

“Um,” you stalled, almost embarrassed to say now. “I got, uh, 559.”

Laurie and Jacob erupted into sputters of confusion, demanding that you recount your points as if they hadn’t all seen you play ‘quixotic’ on a triple word space.

“Good game,” Andy murmured with a soft smirk as he stood up and left the table. You smiled back at him quickly, the other two too busy recounting the numbers on your pad to even notice.

So, that was the end of board games for the night. Jacob suggested a movie but you just knew that would just be you and him cuddling under one blanket… while Laurie and Andy cuddled under another. You weren’t sure you could take that. Instead, you decided to read your book outside— even though you figured Laurie was disappointed you didn’t want to do anything more social. Complimenting her beautifully landscaped backyard eased the blow, though.

It was hard to get comfortable on the patio couch, not because of the couch itself but because you knew it wouldn’t be long until somebody bothered you. When you heard the door open, you were a little disappointed to see Jacob approaching you.

“Hey,” he smiled, sliding in next to you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you.

“Hey,” you greeted in reply, slightly flat in your affect as you immediately dove back into your book.

“You’re feeling okay, right? We could go for a drive if you need some space,” he offered, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“No, I’m alright,” you mumbled. “You know me, I like my peace and quiet when I can get it.”

“You… like them, don’t you?” He must’ve sensed that you didn’t understand what he was referring to at first. “My family, I mean.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s not the issue, really. I know we’re going back home tomorrow but I still need to decompress a little bit. I’ll be more social tonight, promise.”

When you looked up at him, his face was closer than you’d anticipated. It reminded you of when you two met, at a party where the music was so loud that you’d had to stand about this close to be able to carry a conversation. Well, technically that wasn’t the first time you met, because you had him in one of your classes that semester, but it was the first time you’d talked. He was fun, he was new, he was friendly. I can’t stay long, I’ve got a test in the morning, you’d yelled your explanation. You’re gonna ace it anyway, he had dismissed at the time, so you should stay and have fun! You deserve to have fun.

Maybe that was what had made you attracted to him: you couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so worried about what you deserved. But now, Andy was added to that list. You hated to imagine that Jacob had inherited that nature from his father. Is he treating you right? Andy has asked you that night, and you really weren’t sure even now what the answer was. He certainly wasn’t treating you poorly, but was that enough?

Back in reality (and not in your whizzing, anxiety-ridden thoughts), Jacob leaned in and kissed you softly. The kiss was just like him: patient, gentle, but also somehow energetic. It was… nice. Comfortable. Feeling a surge of boldness, you set your book aside and leaned into him, pushing the kiss a little deeper.

He let out a tiny little noise, nearly a moan, as your tongues began to slide together. His hand reached up to cradle the back of your head— you remembered that he did that a lot when you were making out, but all those times felt so foreign now. Your hands reached up to rub against his chest through his t-shirt; that dark maroon one he wore all the time, so much that it was forming a few holes at the hem. His hand slid down to your back and—

“Am I interrupting something?” Andy’s voice tore you both from the moment and from each other’s arms.

“Dad!” Jacob protested, sounding particularly immature with the way his voice rose to a shrill yelp of shock.

“I was just coming out here to let you know that your mother wants your help with dinner,” Andy explained, “but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to embarrass you like that go by.”

“You never do,” Jacob sighed, giving you a quick kiss to the cheek as a goodbye as he stood up and walked inside. You felt Andy’s eyes on you as you looked to the ground awkwardly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. A few seconds after the door was shut, he spoke again.

“I couldn’t let you two get too hot and heavy, and besmirch this innocent patio couch.”

“You’d better not be mad at me for kissing my boyfriend,” you frowned as you stood up. “That’s the most normal thing that’s happened all weekend.”

“I’m not,” he assured, beginning to step closer to you. “Jealous? Slightly. Not that I see him as competition or anything.”

“Uh, you probably should,” you disagreed, raising your eyebrow in a mix of confusion and challenge.

“Honey, I saw you kissing. It was nothing to write home about,” he laughed. “He doesn’t seem to realize that, since he brought you here. Can’t blame him—-” he stepped closer to you and ever-so-delicately brushed his fingers against your arm— “but you know you can do better. You know nobody can make you feel like I do.”

“Andy,” you murmured, trying to step back as you glanced to the window by the backdoor, through which the both of you were clearly visible to anyone who sat in the living room. It was empty now, but it was too close for comfort. “Someone could see…”

“They’re in the kitchen, don’t worry,” he soothed, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek and neck, “nobody’s gonna see us, angel, s’just you and me…”

You didn’t want to, but you melted into his touch anyway. Just those little circles that his fingers drew on your back made your entire body erupt in shivers. “Andy,” you found yourself whispering as if you needed to remember who was doing this to you.

“I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered against your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Are you scared?” he teased. “Afraid my cock’ll split you in half?”

Embarrassed, you nodded.

He grinned, pulling back from your neck to force you into a deep, dominating kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to his shoulders, eagerly allowing his tongue access as it pressed into yours. A little moan escaped you, causing him to pull your body even closer. You had worried that kissing the two of them in a row like this would lead to an inevitable comparison, which would be beyond disgusting. But nope, this kiss made you forget that you’d kissed Jacob at all. Not that that exactly stopped it from being disgusting.

You knew if you didn’t stop yourself now, you wouldn’t be able to soon… and you really needed this kiss to end before you two got caught. Pushing on his chest, you pulled back with a sigh.

“We shouldn’t—” you began.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a reluctant nod. Still, you missed his touch now that it was gone. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later. It’s just hard to keep putting on a happy face when all I want is to grab you and bend you over the table and—”

“Oh god, you can’t talk like that,” you laughed nervously. “You’re gonna drive me crazy, I swear.”

“Haven’t I already?” he smirked.

You nodded, because he was completely right. With a quick wave, you opened the door to step into the house. He called your name, getting your attention as you turned around. In his hand, arm outstretched, was your book. “Almost forgot this,” he smiled.

“Right, thanks,” you nodded, taking it and going back inside.

You spent the rest of the day reaching new heights of anxiousness. Shaking your leg, chewing your lip, scratching your wrist— how could you relax after what Andy had said, how could you act casual? You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the obvious opportunity to arise and for Andy to be inevitable like he always was.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but he did. He got Laurie and Jacob to leave you two alone in the house. With his influential career, he was probably used to getting what he wanted, but you hadn’t anticipated that he was so good at the hard work it took to get those things.

He got you, though. Not that that took all too much hard work.

“Enjoy the movie you guys!” you told them as they were making their way out the door. Jacob leaned in for a goodbye kiss, and softly asked one last time if you wanted to come.

He pulled your shirt up over your head, and you hadn’t even gotten it all the way off before he undid your bra with a quick motion. You hated to think about Jacob in that moment, but those few times you’d fooled around with him to this extreme, that part of the process had taken quite a bit longer.

When your breasts were free his hands latched onto them instantly; the rough pads of his fingers felt good against the sensitive skin, and his hands were so damn big. You felt your back arching into his touch.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth on these,” he purred, “but I need to see all of you first.”

You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you back onto the bed. He took off your socks first, which made you feel a little hot for some reason, and then reached down to pull at your shorts. You lifted your hips to make it easier, looking up at him and gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.

As he tossed your shorts and underwear aside, you suddenly felt very naked compared to his clothedness. Probably because you were completely naked and he was completely clothed. He smiled down at you before grabbing your ankles and resting them on his shoulders, starting to kiss up your leg slowly while never breaking eye contact.

You whined impatiently. “Andy, please, need you…”

“Shh,” he soothed, “we’ve got time baby, I finally got you all to myself and I’m gonna savor it.”

His lips moved up your calf and thigh, but irritatingly skipped anywhere salacious to get straight to your hips and belly. “Hnng, Andy—”

You choked on your words when he licked over your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. It instantly hardened between his lips and he smiled. “Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he cooed against your skin as he kissed his way to the other and did the same.

Your hips bucked up and made contact with his clothed thigh; you let out a high-pitched moan and did it again, rubbing yourself against his suit pants. The rough material sent shocks of pleasure through you as Andy smiled and left little love bites along your neck.

"Look at you, such a needy little girl," he tsked. "Rubbing your cunt on me like a whore. You're gonna make a mess, baby."

"'m sorry I just— oh, fuck," you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thud.

"It's only fair," he shrugged. "I don't mind spending the rest of the night with your come on my slacks. So long as you spend it with my come still in your cunt."

You gasped, trying to imagine how you would hide that from Laurie and Jacob…

But you couldn’t keep on that train of thought for very long as he started to kiss down your stomach again.

“Please, Andy, need— fuck, I need you to— um, taste me, please,” you whimpered.

“Hmm, beg a little more,” he smirked.

It was a long line of nonsense after that; some barely-intelligible string of ‘please’ and ‘Andy’ with a little flair of embarrassing whining. He laughed a little before he finally did what you’d asked, latching his lips onto your swollen clit. Your back arched instantly as your hands clenched at the comforter beneath you.

It wasn’t at all like you’d imagined it would be— it was so warm, and he alternated between surrounding you with his mouth and teasing you with the tip of his tongue. You let out a long, deep moan when his tongue slipped inside you, twisting and massaging your walls so perfectly. Your hands carded through his hair, accidentally tightening and pulling when he licked right over your clit. He didn’t seem to mind, though, just moaning against you and doing it again and again and again until your legs were quivering.

Just as you were about to tell him that you were close, he instantly pulled away to speak. “I can tell you’re close,” he purred as if he’d read your mind.

“Please, don’t stop,” you begged, but he continued to sit up and started to open his belt.

“It’s not time to come yet, honey. It’s gonna feel so much better when you come while I’m inside you— for both of us,” he grinned.

As his sweater was discarded and his trousers were pushed down, you bit your lip. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing his cock, especially when it had leaked enough pre-cum to leave a wet patch on his boxer briefs.

He was on you the second he’d finished stripping, caging in your body with his, growling as he started to kiss your neck. You whined and arched your back, your heart racing as you tried to cope with the fact that this was happening, this was really happening. It was surreal, or maybe it was more than real— you were going to lose your virginity. To Andy fucking Barber.

“I think you’re ready for me, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, his hips moving forward to press his cock against your inner thigh. You nodded as you swallowed thickly, gasping as he reached down and started to rub his swollen head through your folds.

“Please…” you sighed, even as your chest tightened with distant fear.

You had wondered if what he'd said about his marriage to Laurie being sexless was true. It certainly would be a convenient lie to garner your sympathy and make him look better. But you had no doubts it was the truth when he pushed his cock into you; he moaned like a man who had dreamed of this moment for years, who had been so deprived of affection for so long.

It hurt less than you’d expected, although it was certainly overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, Andy,” you moaned,

“Say my name again, baby,” he demanded with a groan.

“Andy!” you repeated, a little louder right as the tip of his cock hit so deep inside you that it hurt— and for some reason, you wanted him to do it again.

“Fuck, you need to be quiet, or the neighbors’ll hear you,” he hissed as he pumped into you deeper and faster. “Can you do that or do I need to choke you to shut you up?”

You whimpered from fear at that idea and he laughed a little.

“Don’t act so innocent, baby, I know who you really are: you’re my dirty little slut.”

“No I’m—” you began to disagree. A quick slap to the face, not too hard but stinging nonetheless, shut you up.

“You know you are,” he hissed, “so say it.”

You could barely carry this conversation, his cock filling you so completely that you couldn’t think about anything else. “Andy, I—”

“Say it.”

You gulped but managed to pant between heavy breaths, “I’m… I’m your dirty little slut, Andy…”

He grinned and began to move faster, deeper, somehow. You clutched at his shoulders, kissing him and groaning into his mouth. When his hips slammed into yours, you moaned louder than maybe you ever had before. "You want it rough, honey?” he taunted. “Want me to fuck you hard?"

"Yes, please!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and desperate now.

He grabbed your hips and made good on his offer of brutality, and then some, making you nearly scream. He kissed you again, perhaps in an attempt to keep you quiet, although it didn’t work that well, as you mouth fell open with every cry. His teeth captured your lip as he growled above you, holding your hips up so the angle was perfect to send his cock right into the end of you, so deep— too deep, in the most perfect way.

His cock stroking against your walls was indescribable; each thrust made your entire body erupt in shivers. The stretch was difficult but you loved it, you loved the way his body pushed yours to its limits.

"Gonna come inside you, honey," he moaned, "gonna fill you up so good, gonna mark your body with my come and make you mine."

"Oh god, Andy, please," you sobbed.

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he encouraged.

“Yes, so close—” you cut yourself off as you choked on nothing, you entire body beginning to tighten and seize up as pleasure spiralled higher and higher.

“Just like that, come on my cock,” he demanded, but you couldn’t do anything else even if you tried— the coil snapped as your vision went spotty. Just as you started to close your eyes, he held your neck and stared down at you. “Look at me when I make you come.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open with the intensity of sensation washing over you, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed. Those blue eyes pierced through you as you shivered underneath him, and with your walls constricting his cock just felt even thicker inside you. “Andy,” you whimpered, your fingers and toes erupting into pins and needles as you felt him flexing inside you— and he must have been coming in you in that moment, with the way he sighed and his thrusts pumped deeper yet more erratically.

Warmth spilled inside you as numbness decorated your extremities and fogginess clouded your mind. You lost focus as he collapsed beside you— even when he pulled out, you still felt full, due in part to his come inside you and in part to being ruined so thoroughly by him. Maybe you’d feel normal again tomorrow, or next week, but right now it was impossible to forget that you were fucked, in every sense of the word, by Andy Barber.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck slowly, his breathing slowly returning to a stable pace as his chest pressed against your back. He was mumbling something about how you were his girl, how you did so good for him, but you were already drifting into sleep even though it was barely nine o’clock.

You woke up the next morning in the guest room with Jacob beside you, who informed you that he’d found you already asleep when he got back from the movie he’d gone to see with his mom.

You left just a few hours later, waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Barber as Jacob pulled the car out of the driveway.

three months later...

The sun was just starting to set as you made your way home after your last class of the night. Campus was gorgeous at this time of day, but you weren’t really taking the time to notice it as you focused instead on how wonderful it would feel to kick your shoes off, slip off your bra and slide into bed. What you didn’t anticipate when you unlocked your dorm room’s door was to find Andy sitting on your bed as he waited for you. You shut the door quickly so none of the girls mulling about the hall would see him.

He looked so out of place in your dorm. He was so… adult, and yes, everyone there was an adult, but he was a whole new level of adulthood compared to the other residents of the honors dorm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reminded him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he questioned casually.

“Because your son is on the other side of the hall,” you explained, unamused. “What if he sees you here? What if he sees your car in the garage?”

“You worry too much. I don’t give a fuck if my son lives nearby, if I wanna visit my girlfriend then I’m gonna do it.”

He’d never used that word for you before— or at least, not in front of you. It made you feel nervous, glancing to the floor as he stepped closer towards you. "I think I'm too young to be your girlfriend,” you decided.

"Perfect age for a mistress, though."

You stammered as you tried to balance the way that word made you feel sick with the way it made you feel aroused. He lifted your chin with a finger, his other hand pulling you closer at the waist. "Are you trying to act innocent, honey?” he smirked. “Do you think I didn't realize that it turns you on?"

"Wh-what turns me on?"

"The sneaking around. The secrets, the lies; the fact that it's wrong, forbidden, taboo. It's why you haven't broken up with my son yet and it's why you stare at my ring all the time— yes, I noticed."

You frowned, crossing your arms impatiently. “I haven’t broken up with Jacob because my relationship with him makes a great cover for my relationship with you… I’m doing that for us. And do you think I like the ring? I hate that stupid chunk of silver, seeing it on your hand makes me so livid because it just reminds me that I don’t have you all to myself and—”

“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” he purred, kissing down your neck as your back began to arch. “Meanwhile, I have to share you with him.”

You were amazed that he could refer to his own son with such disdain, but then again, you knew how jealous he could get.

“If you’re mine then take the ring off,” you suggested between panting breaths.

“If you’re mine then take it off for me,” he countered. His left hand was travelling up your neck and you grabbed it by the wrist. He pulled back to look at you as you brought his fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of them before sucking on his ring finger, deeper and deeper, until it was poking down your throat and the ring was at your lips. Lubricating it with your spit and spinning it with your tongue, you used your teeth to pull the ring slowly off of his finger. He gasped a little as you opened your mouth and displayed it for him on your tongue, before spitting it out and across the room; it made a tiny little clinking noise as it hit your floor.

“Fuck,” he growled, the sound deep in his throat and dripping with desperation.

It felt like his hand never left your neck that night, like he was trying to claim you in every way he could all at once. He was so possessive over you, ironically. It was hard not to feel like your whole life was waiting. Waiting for the semester to end so the next one could begin. Waiting to graduate and get a job and finally begin your real adult life. Waiting for the marks Andy left on your skin to fade so you didn’t have to wear a turtleneck in June.

Waiting for Jacob to find out, like he inevitably would.

Waiting for Andy to leave Laurie, or at least do something to make it seem like this was going somewhere.

The thing about Andy was that he had this magical ability to make you stop worrying, in a way nobody and nothing else could. When you were apart, reality would set in again and you’d decide you needed to confront him the next time you saw him. It wasn’t even that you needed him to commit to you, specifically, you just needed to know what was going on— because how could he stay married through all this? He needed to leave her, not for you but for himself. You would get yourself all worked up and then he’d show up and soothe you until you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place. When you were together, the future didn’t matter anymore, and neither did everything that was wrong about what you were doing.

It was like living in a dream, a really strange dream. You were drowning in him, just like you’d known you would, but you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to stop the secret dates when you gave your friends and boyfriend some excuse about having to study, the rendezvous in the back of his car, the midnight phone calls where he was whispering so his wife wouldn’t hear.

You figured that after all this time of being a good girl— the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the kind of girl you’d take home to mom— you deserved to let go. You deserved to have fun.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #I FUCKING FINISHED IT #stay tuned for the alternate ending

1K notes · View notes

angelsfalling16 · 3 years

Note

For the writing prompts:

"You owe me." "I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your boy/girl-friend to get your parents off your back." and

'Hands brush as you stand next to each other, you think it's on accident until their hands gentle wrap around yours.'

And snowbaz!

Thanks for the ask!! Sorry it took a while to get to this; I hope you like it!

Read it on ao3

***

Simon

I should have known better than to ask Baz for anything, but at the time, I didn't have any other options. My on-campus job didn't start for another week, and I wouldn't get paid for two more weeks after that, but our rent was due and I was twenty bucks short. When Baz generously offered to lend me the money, I accepted it, but I had no idea that it would lead to me owing him a favor.

"It's just a dinner. And you owe me, remember?"

"I owe you 20 dollars, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back."

"Come on, I'll buy you dinner ad all you'll have to do is act like you actually like me for an hour or two."

"That sounds an awful lot like a date."

"That is precisely the point."

When I imagined going on a date with Baz (and even though I hate to admit it, I have thought about it), I never imagined that it would be a fake date.

When we first met, we hated each other. Thrown together in a small dorm room, we were constantly getting on each other's nerves, and we were both more than happy to go our separate ways at the end of the year. I don’t think either of us expected a few chance encounters the next year to bring us back together, but it was as if, after some apart, we were able to begin to tolerate each other. We even began to want to be around each other, arranging times to meet up and hang out.

After a while, we became friends and that led to us deciding to become roommates again last year, but this time, we had an entire apartment to share and our own spaces. We were able to get closer to each other without driving each other up the walls, and I found myself wanting to spend more and more time with him, even coming up with ridiculous times to meet in between our class. I started to fall for him. Hard.

And now, we’re in our senior of college, and things are changing between us. Things have been really tense the semester began, and I’m not sure what caused it. Or how it led to Baz standing in my room, asking me to be his pretend boyfriend.

“Look, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if I wasn’t absolutely desperate. The thing is, I have been lying to my parents about having a boyfriend for the past year, and they want to meet him.”

“Why would you lie about that?”

He sighs and runs a hair through his hair. “They kept trying to set me up on dates. With girls. I guess they hadn’t completely accepted that I was gay because I never brought a guy home. It didn’t matter that I had never brought a girl home either, but they were persistent. Until I told them that I had met someone.”

“Why do you want me to be your boyfriend? Your fake boyfriend, I mean.”

“I can’t think of anyone else who would be willing to go along with it. But if you really don’t want to do this, I understand. I can think of something else.”

I shake my head, not as my response but in disbelief. I can’t believe that Baz is actually asking me to do this. Or that I’m actually considering doing it. Under different circumstances, I would be jumping at the chance to go on a date with him, but how do I find the balance pretending to like him and pretending that I’m not absolutely head over heels for him.

Saying yes to this feels like just asking for trouble, but still, I find myself giving.

“It’s just dinner, right?” I ask slowly.

His brows raise, and he seems surprised. “Yes. And I promise that I will try to get us out of there as quickly as possible.”

I nod. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Baz

Dinner with my parents is going surprisingly well. Simon is being friendly and polite, and my parents haven't said or asked anything too mortifying or personal. They genuinely seem to be pleased to meet him and get to know him.

I didn't expect things to go this well. It's the perfect meeting, and I can't help wishing it was real. I shouldn't have been so worried about my parents meeting my "boyfriend" and I feel a little bad for lying. I wish I wasn't. I wish I could say honestly that Simon was my boyfriend, but I know that we're nothing more than friends.

Even the conversation flows relatively easily. We talk about school and my siblings, and my parents adeptly avoid asking Simon about his own family, remembering how I told them that he grew up in foster care. He a thousand times less painful than I expected, and by the time we got to desert, I’m feeling relaxed and relieved. I hope that Simon isn’t having as terrible a time as he thought he might.

He’s currently looking through the dessert menu with the slightest of frowns on his face, and I know him so well that I know exactly what he’s thinking. He’s beginning to worry about the price of everything here. Money has always been a sore spot for us because he grew up with nothing while I grew up with everything. I know that there’s nothing I can do about that and that I will never fully be able to understand what it is like for him, but for tonight, I don’t want him to worry about it.

I lean towards him, bracing my arm on the back of his chair, to whisper in his ear. "Order whatever you want, darling. It's my treat, remember?" I add the darling, hoping that it will help ease things, and I think it works.

His eyes widen but then he nods, the corner of his mouth turning up in a facsimile of a smile. I lean back but keep my arm around the back of his chair and tell myself that it's just for show.

Simon ends up getting something really chocolaty with cherries on it, and it must be really good because he keeps making these soft noises as he eats it.

I have to keep myself from reacting, searching for a way to act like it doesn’t matter while still pretending that this is real. It isn’t easy to find that middle ground, but I think I am doing an okay job of it. I’m pretty sure that Simon doesn’t know how I feel at least.

"Want a bite?" Simon asks, holding up his fork towards me.

I could say no, but I don’t want to. It does look good. I nod but use my own fork. I don't think that I would survive him feeding me. It would be too much. I think I might actually burst into flames if I let him feed me.

Dessert passes by quickly, and I'm almost reluctant to leave this quiet, perfect moment. As Simon says goodbye to my parents, hugging Daphne and shaking my father’s hand, I can almost believe, for just a moment, that this could be real.

I quickly shake that thought away and move to hug my parents goodbye.

“He seems like a very sweet boy,” Daphne whispers to me, and my face is burning as we all walk towards the door together.

Simon's hands brushes against the back of mine, and even though I know it was an accident, my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. But then it happens again, and this time, Simon’s hand wraps around mine so that we’re holding hands.

I am careful not to react, not wanting this to end. He’s just helping to really sell this to parents; I know that. He doesn’t let go as we walk across the parking lot, and still holds on when he stops in front of my car and turns to face me. I raise a questioning brow at him but don't say anything, waiting to see what he'll do next.

He uses his grip on my hand to pull me closer, and I hold my breath as he leans in close.

I can feel his breath on my cheek, and for a moment, I actually believe that he might kiss me, to keep up pretenses as parents leave, but then he whispers in my ear, "thanks for dinner."

When he pulls back, his smile is tentative, and he lets go of my hand, turning away to get into the car. My heart is racing, and I'm left feeling a little disappointed.

God, I'm a fool. I know I am because of what I do next.

I reach out and grab his hand, pulling on it in order to spin him back around to face me. Before I can talk myself out of this, I tug on him again, pulling him closer until I'm close enough to kiss him.

"I want...." I whisper, trailing off before clearing my throat and trying again. "I want to kiss you."

"Then, do it," he whispers back.

Still half expecting him to shove me away and laugh, I close the distance between us but instantly relax when his arms wrap around my waist and hold me close to him.

I'm kissing him softly, slowly, wanting to enjoy every moment of this every moment of this, and he lets me keep this pace until we have to break for air.

He's smiling at me as we pull apart, and I think, maybe this really could be real.

#asks #ask game #my writing #snowbaz #the simon snow series #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #rainbow rowell #fake dating #baz kisses simon first

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kayxleeee · 3 years

Text

Loki Laufeyson: Fatuous Love (Loki x Reader)

Warning: SMUT 18+ finger, oral.

A/N: I have PT2 and bait of pt 3, but idk if I’ll end up posting them.

Summary: Loki just wants to make you forget the fate that you can not escape.

Word Count: 2k+

*NOT MY IMAGE* Do not copy my work

“Do not speak of this again! I do not want to hear another word about this foolishness, (Y/n)!” Your father yelled at you sternly dismissing the complicated conversation at hand. “You will not behave this way when we are guest in this palace. How dare you act like such a child under the same awing as your future king!?”

You were the soon to be Queen of Asgard, set to marry the prince, Thor son of Odin, god of thunder and future king of Asgard. Any woman would be overly joyed to be in your shoes, but you personally could not stand the thought. It was an unchangeable fate that you could not bare, so for about the one-hundredth time you plead and beg your father to let you out of the arrangement.

“But father, I do not love him!” You cry out in frustration.

“THEN YOU WILL LEARN! This is berserk and if you ask me you are ungrateful and are no better than his fatuous brother! I will not tolerate this one more second!”He narrows his eyes and stares you down as if testing you to speak again. When you don’t, he storms out of your room slamming the door so hard you were sure the kingdom could hear its echo.

Unfortunately for you, you were in love with the wrong Allfather child. Loki was the one thing that you could not resist, your forbidden fruit if you will. He was not supposed to be yours, and you were not supposed to be his because it has been written in prophesy. Even when the three of you were children playing in the garden under the sun, you only had eyes for the mischievous one. It seemed that everyone in your family knew your fascination of the dark hair boy and it only grew fonder as you aged. Although the fascination was known, the extents of your relationship was oblivious to them all, even Thor. As adults, your relationship soon blossomed into more than just lust or want, but it became more of love and an urgent need to be around him. This feeling is why you fought so hard to get out of this arrangement with Odin Allfather, which ended with you marrying his first born son.

Loki was the most incredible being you had ever come to know. Arrogant? Yes. Mischievous? Absolutely. Selfish? Sometimes… But also in the same breath he was loving, with the most beautiful soul. For some reason he has always had a soft spot for you, even when he hated everyone else. He has always put you first, even before the two of you were romantically involved and he would do anything in his power to try and please you.

You angrily finish getting ready for bed, slipping your hair into a silk wrap and letting your night gown loosely flow against your skin. You get into your nicely made bed turning off the lamp that sat on your bedside table. You lay in the darkness of the room, over your soft sheets, wishing there was a way to get out of this marriage. You then see your door push ajar slowly as the light from the hallway illuminates the bedroom. The shine of the light quickly goes away as the door closes, just as it was opened.

“Fatuous?” You hear his familiar voice fill the silence of the room as he walks in. Your heart swells at the sound of his voice and butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. This is how he made you feel on a daily basis, just by being in his ever lasting presence. “He believes I am Fatuous.” He scoffs. “I may be many things, but I am without a doubt, unquestionably not Fatuous.” He chuckles slightly as he makes his way onto your bed.

“Loki, my love!” You smile ear to ear reaching your hands out to him as he climbed beside you, engulfing you into a warm embrace, his soft sleeping garments brushing against your skin. “I have not seen you all day.” You pout.

“That is because you have been busy all day, with my idiotic brother.” He reminds you. “Although I am fond of your father, I thought he would never leave.” He says referring to the argument he overheard. “And I am not fatuous.”

“I know my love.” Is all you say as the two of you lay there quietly in each other’s embrace enjoying every moment of it. The warmth of each other and the rhythms of your breath was all you needed to feel close to him. “I love you…” You mumble breaking the silence. “And I’m sorry this is set in the prophecy”

“You say this every time we meet.”

“Because I am— it makes this venture so much more miserable.”

He sighs loudly shaking his head, “Please, we can speak of it another time. Tonight we shall just enjoy each other.” He smiled as he places a kiss to your temple.

You wished it could only be that easy. He did not understand that the time was winding down quickly and in a few short months you would be marrying Thor, and all of this would have to end, regardless of how either of you felt.

“But of course,” He speaks again as he switches his position slightly, “that won’t stop you from worrying will it?” He lets out a small chuckle to himself, already knowing your mind is going around in unusual circles.

“Of course you know me.” You let out a slight giggle as he runs his hands over your sides, the pads of his finger tips tickling you as he caressed.

“Well, what if I said I have a remedy.” He coos smoothly, mischief in his voice.

His hands begin to travel down the side of your curves, outlining every inch that he could over your night gown. He slides it up slowly as he begins to caress your hips with one hand and make his way down the shape of your thigh with the other. His fingers sneakily pads to the inner of your thigh, sliding in between pressing them apart slightly and you shift your position so that you are laying on your back instead of your side.

“Loki…” You say in a low voice.

“Yes?” He says inching away from you and positioning himself in between your legs. “Remember when we first met each others acquaintance? Meek children I suppose, enjoyed sweet treats and childs play. Now look at us, adults with weakness in each other. You are my weakness, my dear.”

You lay there with your legs spread apart, giving him access as he continues to trail his finger down your thighs and then back up. He grips each thigh in either hand as a smirk played against his lip. He takes his hand raising up your night gown completely exposing the dark black color of your satin underwear. He rubs his hand over your covered core, causing your breath to hitch into your throat.

“Loki.” His name falls from your mouth again, this time in a desperate whisper as the feeling of need is building up in your core. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever you would like me to be doing your highness?” This came out in a low growl, sending chills over you. He continues his hand movements on your covered pussy.

“We shouldn’t.” You bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting out any type of moan.

“What would you like me to be doing (Y/n)?” He repeats himself now tugging at your underwear. “Live a little my pet, nothing will change our fait, we might as well enjoy our time together. Even if this is the last night I every intention to pretend that you are all mine. Oh my beauty, there’s no need for you to feel sorry for yourself, when I can help you forget.” He smirks.

“I want you to help me forget.” You follow his words.

“Then that shall be what I do.” He says confidently as he places kisses down your inner thigh, leading them to your core. His confidence and skill was what aroused you quickly as you felt his hot breath. His tongue delicately rolls over your clit, his skillful rolls making you wet almost immedietly. He massages the inside of your thigh as he continues to lap his tongue over your pussy.

“You are so beautiful.” He marvels lifting your thighs over his shoulders for better access. “And all mine.”

He skillfully connects his entire mouth to the fabric open mouth kissing and rolling his tongue all over your parts. You moan at the new sensation of him hiking up your undergarments causing friction against your clit as he soaks them with his mouth.

Loki pulls away only to pull off your now soaking wet underwear “Look at you, so beautiful.” He admires you again helping you out of them and then going back down to get back to work, this time sloppier.

In no time you are a moaning mess. He laps his tongue around your clit down to your entrance, over and over again. Your moans get progressively louder as he continues the movements of his tongue causing a sloshing noise from the wetness.

“Ohhh.” Is all you could manage out as you grip his dark hair and barrie his face deeper into your pussy. “Don’t stop.” You moan breathlessly, the noises from your wetness enough to make you cum.

He lets out a growl into your core, the vibrations sending you into over drive. As you run your fingers through his hair you arch your back bucking your hips, needing him to keep going. He removes his mouth pushing your hips down, grounding you down to the bed as he slipped a finger into your wet folds. You throw your head back has he adds another, moaning all types of profanity.

“Listen to me (Y/n), while you marry my brother, I want you to remember how I’m making you feel in this moment. All wet for me not him.” He says maliciously. “Who’s making you feel so good?” He asked this while gliding his thumb over your clit fast as he thrust his fingers into you hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

“I’m so close Loki! My love I’m so close…” You moan louder as you roll your hips, grinding on to his fingers as they fuck you.

Loki thrusts is fingers into you faster, meeting your grinds while hitting your g spot. You felt the familiar warm feeling spreads from the bundle of nerves that is your clit to the pit of your belly as you began to cum over his hands.

After you come down from your high, he finds his way back up to you lying next to you as you shift positions to lay on his chest.

“You're too good to me and I can’t live without you.” You say feeling the warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. “But we can’t keep doing this.”

“I think we can.” He chuckles to himself. “They all are incompetent, so I think we can manage our time.” He says rubbing small circles onto your back. “ They hardly even notice you’re involved with someone who isn’t their beloved prince. “ Loki sighs.

“There is no way for me to get out of it.” You relax in his embrace and trace the lines of the sleeping garment he has on. “It will be a sad lonely life of being Thor Odisons wife.”

“Listen to me,” His voice is now more serious. “... you need not to worry about that because it most certainly won’t be a sad lonely life. You will have me (Y/n), and I will not be going anywhere.” He kisses your head. “I most certainly do not say this quite enough, but I love you .”

You sighed. You knew his words were kind, but there was no point in pretending this wasn’t pointless. The only thing that was fatuous, was loving someone and not having them completely. Love is the fatuous one.

“I love you too” You finally mumble before closing your eyes ready to drift off to sleep as he continues rubbing soothing circles around your back.

Comments, Questions, Opinions :)

See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist

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threeletterslife · 3 years

Text

(Our Very Own) Camaraderie

→ [3/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: Adults have led you to believe that most things don't last in high school. But they'd been wrong. Amidst the teenage angst, the drama, the toxicity is a new friend. A friend you come to grow very fond of over the years.

→ pairing/rating: jungkook x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 85% fluff, 15% angst | high school!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, slut-shaming, mentions of f sc*tt f*tzgerald

→ wordcount: 19.9k

→ a/n: look out! some wholesome romance on the way!! jk and oc went from strangers to slight enemies to tolerating each other to friends to lOvers. if that ain’t a rollercoaster journey idk what is. this was also for @thebtswritersclub’s july prompt: __ to lovers!! (and i totally took liberty of this lmao)

His name is Son Jungmin.

The ink bleeds through the paper, a consequence of how hard you've scratched your pen across the straight lines of your journal. You're mad. Fucking furious.

From eighth fucking grade he's tormented me. And I let him do it all the way to junior year. Why did it take me so long to break up with him?

You attempt to run your fingers through your hair, inwardly cursing when the tangles make it hard for you to brush all the way through. And when you try to pick up your pen to write again, the pen breaks, a hideous, unwanted inkspot blossoming on the page. It bleeds through three empty pages. Great. Nothing in your life—not even the tiniest things—seems to be going right.

Quickly, you pull out a new pen and begin to write again.

I should've known to stay away from varsity soccer players. Even worse, he's a fucking cross country runner. I should've known. I was an idiot.

"Hey, babe, you coming to my soccer game on Sunday? The boys and I are planning to dip right after for some burgers."

"Aww, shit, I can't, Jungmin. I have a cheer comp on the same day. Guess we're tied by the ankles by our own sports!" You remember the genuine regret you'd felt that your schedules had clashed. Jungmin loves it when you cheer him on during his soccer games and track meets. You should've known. He'd never bothered to come to your cheer competitions.

"Babe, cheer's not even a sport," Jungmin snorts. "Come on, you don't need to go."

"It's for nationals, Jungmin."

"So?"

"So I can't come to your soccer game."

"That's retarded."

You should've fucking known.

He's popular, too. He knew all my friends and introduced me to his own. They weren't very nice.

"Heard you're making Jungmin keep it in his pants," Hakyung giggles. "Why wait so long? You know he's gonna leave if you... you know, don't give him what he wants."

"It's honestly not that hard," Bokhee chimes in. "You'll get over the awkwardness pretty quickly. At least, that's how it was for me and Hyunjoo."

"I dunno..." you say. "It's just that we're still sort of young... And I don't wanna do anything I'm gonna regret..."

"It wasn't even straight-up porn." Hyunjoo rolls his eyes, swinging an arm around Bokhee. "He just asked you to change in front of him."

I always felt so uncomfortable. But I thought I was just being sensitive. Now, I know that I should've made my boundaries more obvious.

But when I had to be in a wheelchair, it finally became crystal fucking clear what Jungmin's priorities were.

"Cheer's not even a dangerous sport. Don't know how the fuck you got injured."

"I'm a flyer, Jungmin. I'd say that can get pretty risky..."

"Whatever. I don't wanna be the asshole here, but you're not gonna be out of that wheelchair in time for homecoming, are you?"

"Of course I'm not..."

"God, I hate this. I'm gonna sound like a fucking asshole. I'm so sorry, Y/N. It's just that... Wow, I don't want to be the bad guy, but it's... it's gonna be a little weird to, you know, dance with you at homecoming... with your... situation and all, you know?"

"Oh."

"You understand, right? I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable by wheeling you around everywhere."

"Yeah. Yeah, no, I totally get it."

"I knew you'd understand, babe. You're the best."

Then he went to homecoming with another girl. I couldn't believe it at first, either. But maybe I should've opened my fucking eyes earlier.

It was a relief to break up with him. I spent three weeks rehearsing what I was going to say, but when I finally got it out, my words were jumbled and frankly, embarrassing. But not as embarrassed as Jungmin was that I dumped his ass.

My victory was short-lived, however. Because the day after I became free from that horrible, shitty asshole, I learned about the bet.

The stupid fucking bet. Jungmin had posted it on his spam account on Instagram—before he had deliberately blocked you. You're sure he did it on purpose. He wanted you to feel humiliated before you left him for good.

A cropped photo of you and him holding hands. The infuriating caption: "Fellas I have officially lost the bet. Couldn't fuck Y/N before any of y'all. Take your 50 bucks and get lost bitches."

You had shaken in anger when you'd first seen that post. How dare he?? And when you'd inquired about the bet to some mutual friends, you learned that Jungmin had asked you out in eighth grade, hoping you'd let him "hit it," so he could win some money. You've never felt more used in your whole life.

But the misfortune doesn't stop there.

"Oh... Soojin's sitting there, sorry."

"Um, not today. I'm busy with other... stuff."

"Sorry. I already have a partner."

Dating Jungmin had had its own perks. Everybody knew who I was. Everybody wanted to sit with me, talk to me, hang out with me, partner with me. But ever since I broke up with Jungmin, everyone's been distant. Did I do something wrong?

Distant might not even be the right word. People are avoiding you. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Jungmin's the culprit. So you begin to avoid them too. It's hard to transition from being a well-liked person to a person nobody gives two shits about. Classes become dull and much harder without the help of your peers, and partner projects are humiliating.

Especially now.

There you are, sitting in your IB Lit class, sharing a fucking table (and worse, a project) with Jeon Jungkook. He's a fairly well-known varsity swimmer—a smart one too, to be taking several IB classes on top of his rigorous swim schedule. He sounds like every girl's dream guy until you factor in the fact that he's one of Jungmin's stupid minions. You've seen them parading around together after school, during lunch, wherever the fuck they can hang out.

But the first six words he says to you catch you off guard. "Oh, hey!" he says, grinning widely. His teeth vaguely resemble that of a bunny's. "I know your boyfriend!"

You turn to him, eyes narrowed and frown lines stretching across your forehead. "I broke up with him." Two weeks ago, you want to add but you save yourself the trouble.

But things start to click into place. Right. Jungkook had gone to swim championships somewhere out of the country, so he must've missed a lot of the drama. You have no idea if that's for the better or for the worse.

Jungkook's eyes widen. "Ohhh, shit," he whispers. He's about to say something more but you turn your head away, suddenly busying yourself with your laptop—though the screen is blank—and glowering at the boy from the corner of your eyes. He seems to get that you want him to leave you alone. Soon, he's chatting loudly with Jungmin's other rowdy friends, high-fiving them and roaring with laughter. You swear to god, they're everywhere, Jungmin's minions. You might as well fail this stupid IB Lit project.

It's only been a little over two weeks but your life's taken such a drastic turn. Everyone tells you that any drama that happens in high school doesn't matter when you grow up, but it feels like your world's crashing down on you right now.

"You're awfully quiet today," your mother tells you over dinner. Your father fails to look up from his phone, ignoring most of the dinner conversations, as usual.

Your older sister scoffs. "She's been quiet for a couple of weeks, Mom. God, do you notice anything around here?"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm busy running the whole household to take care of two moody brats."

"I run the errands in this household," your sister argues. "While also balancing my school work. You go to your yoga classes and go golfing with your friends."

"That's no way to talk to your mother. Do something," your mother urges your father.

He looks up from his phone and sighs. "Be nice to your mother. Both of you." He busies himself with his device once again.

"Y/N didn't even do anything," your sister grumbles. She grabs her plate and stands. "Whatever. I'm done eating." Without so much of another glance, she leaves the table.

Your mother rolls her eyes and looks across the table to you. You just shrug your shoulders. "Don't worry, mom. I'm fine."

"Your sister isn't," she replies before staring at her dish and refusing to talk.

You manage to escape the awkward dinner and flee back to the safe confines of your room, only to find your sister lounging on your bed. "Hey," she says.

"Hi," you say, managing to smile as you sit next to her. "Rough day?"

"Not really," she grins. "I just like to stir shit up a little sometimes. Besides, you looked like you needed someone to talk to. And Mom and Dad definitely aren't the ones to offer you support in that sort of area."

"Thanks," you say. "I've been having a pretty shitty couple of weeks."

"It's a boy, huh?"

You turn to her, eyes wide. "Yeah. Yeah. I broke up with Jungmin."

"Thank god," she groans, rolling her eyes. "I always hated that little motherfucker. Ever since he stood you up in eighth grade to meet his friends for that stupid fucking limited edition shoe sale."

"Yeah, well. I thought breaking up with him would make me happier," you say. "It didn't."

"Are his friends bothering you?" your sister asks, a murderous look settling on her face. "I have a full can of pepper spray. Also five different kinds of tasers."

You smile. Your sister never fails to make you feel better. "He's got to do something bad before I attack him blindly!"

"He treated my little sister like shit. That's a crime in it itself," she retorts. "And listen, just focus on your studies for now. Focus on cheer. You'll show them up when you get into a good college and they don't."

"I will," you say. "I'm going to."

"Forget about that peanut-brain and his herd of brainless pistachio-nut followers," she says. "They don't deserve your time."

"They don't," you agree.

"And learn to be satisfied with spending your time alone," she says. "This is grown-up advice so you better be writing this shit down."

"Mentally noted," you giggle. "Thanks."

But it's hard to forget about Jungmin and his pistachio-nut followers (your sister always comes up with the funniest insults) when you're paired with one of them for a goddamn project.

You're sitting in your IB Lit class, setting up your materials and getting ready to get some shit done today—since the previous day you'd been unproductive. But you vow that you're not going to let anyone bring you down.

Until fucking Jeon Jungkook walks in. He slides into the seat next to yours, and when you glance at his face, you notice that he—for some god-forsaken reason—looks apologetic.

"What?" you spit out.

"I... I'm sorry about yesterday," he says. Your eyebrows raise. "I didn't know the breakup was that bad. Guess I've been living under a rock."

He has. But at least he's apologized for it. That's a step better than Jungmin, at least. "Everyone's still talking about it," you say, "so I would actually appreciate it if you don't mention it again."

Jungkook, however, has no intentions of letting the matter go. "But they're saying he dumped you."

"WHAT?"

You forget to control the volume of your voice; consequently, the whole class (including your teacher) turns their heads to stare at you. Your cheeks heat up in humiliation.

"I hope your dramatic reaction has something to do with your project, Y/N," your teacher says.

You want to wither away and disappear. It takes everything within you to not burst out crying right then and there. So not only had Jungmin made your relationship a bet, had constantly treated you as his inferior but also couldn't handle the fucking truth that you dumped him?

Jungkook looks guiltier than ever. "Uh," he whispers. "You told me yesterday that you broke up with him so I was just a little confused." He continues on, not realizing that you'd covered your face with your hands. "He told me that he dumped you because you were obsessing over him and he didn't really feel comfortable about that."

It's the last straw.

You stand up, chair nearly knocking down from the harsh force of your movement. And without another word, you rush out of the classroom, staring down at your feet pounding against the white floor. Angry tears threaten to fall down your face but you manage to hold it all in until you hide in the nearest girls' bathroom.

It just gets worse and worse. You sob, back up against your locked bathroom stall, your hands up in your hair in frustration, anger, regret. You want the tears to stop but they pour down relentlessly. If this keeps up, you might just miss your next class. You so desperately want to pull yourself together. Do what your sister said and not give two fucks, but it's difficult. It's difficult to ignore what people are saying about you behind your back.

You're the villain. You've been painted as the crazy, obsessive girlfriend that Jungmin needed to dump for the sake of his own sanity. You're the crazy bitch who's been outcasted for having the guts to dump someone who treated you like shit.

And cheer. Cheer was supposed to be your escape. You were supposed to have fun, retain your physique, make friends, become cheer captain. But the past several days at cheer practice have also been a living hell. Back when you were with Jungmin, you becoming the cheer captain was common sense—no one dared to challenge that fact. Especially since cheer captain is a popularity game. But now that everyone fucking hates your guts, there's no way you'll ever make captain. And your cheer 'friends' have all ditched you, glaring at you when practicing your routines and creating a whole new group chat without you to make after-school hangout plans. It fucking hurts.

Everyone who you thought was your friend, wasn't. And even the people you don't know are afraid to approach you because of Jungmin's rumors.

You don't know what you're going to do.

You sniffle your nose, wiping your eyes clean. You'd cried so hard that your whole face is burning from the extra salt that it definitely did not need. Your neck glistens in tear water and you're quick to dry it off. When you check yourself in the mirror, your eyes are bright red, face contorted in a worrisome frown. You do look like you're kind of psycho.

You scoff. Fuck it all to hell.

And when you realize in your rush to empty out the tears you'd been holding in for days, you'd forgotten your backpack, a string of unkind curses leaves your mouth. Now you're definitely going to be late for your next class.

With wobbling steps, you walk out of the bathroom, careful to keep your head low in case anyone decides to poke fun at your pitiful state. But there, right next to the girls' bathroom door is your backpack.

You frown.

Crouching down, you open your bag to see all of your supplies packed up neatly inside. Someone had even taken the care to put your laptop back into its laptop sleeve. You have no idea who would've even bothered to do this.

The only person you can think of is Jungkook. Maybe because he's really the only person you've talked to at school in the past couple of weeks.

You swing your backpack over your shoulder, fingers grasping the straps. Hm. What a touching gesture. For some fucking reason, this makes you want to cry again. Maybe someone's on your side. Maybe your life hasn't gone to shit. Maybe there's still hope.

You hate how much you fucking flip-flop around in your head. How can you be so pathetic? You grit your teeth. Whatever. Just let it go. Ignore everything. You take a deep breath, slowly letting it out through your nose.

Time to get to your next class.

The feeling of being pathetic grows.

You lie on your bed, face digging into your pillow. Earlier, your sister had given you hell for choosing to skip dinner, but you didn't exactly feel like eating on such a queasy stomach. Besides, your mind has been occupied since IB Lit class.

Stupid fucking Jeon Jungkook.

You can't stop thinking about him, replaying the words he'd spoken to you. He'd looked guilty, he'd apologized. He feels sorry.

God, it's idiotic of you to latch onto him just because he's the only person who'll talk to you. How pathetic. But he's also the only person who gives you hope. Your mind replays his bunny smile over and over. Until his whole fucking face is ingrained in your head.

You need to get your head out of your fantasies. A distraction. Something to keep you grounded.

Just in time, your phone dings right next to you. It's a text. From an unknown number. Your heart sinks. Maybe it's Jungmin's friends trying to send anonymous hate again; they've done it before. They might do it again.

But when you unlock your phone and take a longer look at the message, your heart begins to soar.

[Maybe: Jungkook]: Hey Y/N! This is Jungkook from Lit. I was wondering what we're gonna do about the project?

Ohhhhh, fuck. He must've gotten your number from his bazillion friends.

And now you feel like a shitty fucking partner. It's been two days and neither of you have gotten anything done. All because you were being an emotional wreck.

Your fingers hover over your phone, unsure of what to type. Should you apologize for ditching him during class like that? Or will bringing it up make him annoyed? Or... will not bringing it up make you sound like a bitch?

[You]: oh yeah... kim said that we have to work on it at home to finish from now on

You pause momentarily, your thumb hovering over the 'send' button.

[You]: do you want to meet outside of class?

[Jungkook]: Yeah that's what I was thinking lmao

[Jungkook]: Wanna do this weekend? Saturday? I can pick you up and we can go to Target to get supplies

Hm. While the offer isn't bad, for a project, you've always found it easier to do your research first and then figure out what you need.

[You]: oh wait can we meet for a day to just do research tho?

[Jungkook]: Actually yeah that's a better idea lmao

[Jungkook]: I didn't even read the book oof

You manage to break a smile.

[You]: oh shit same

[Jungkook]: Sparknotes?

[You]: shmoop actually

[Jungkook]: Yk what we'll figure it out. I can pick you up Saturday and we can go to Starbucks to research

You know exactly which Starbucks he's talking about. It's the one practically infested with all of Jungmin's friends. You don't know if you'll be able to show your face there—especially during the weekend where you know you'll see your classmates.

[You]: sorry can we go to min's instead? the boba place downtown

[Jungkook]: Oh that's even better lmao. It's closer to my house

[Jungkook]: What time works for you

[You]: the earlier the better lol

The earlier you'll finish and get this over with.

[Jungkook]: I'll pick you up at 10?

[You]: sounds good

He proceeds to send you a GIF of some random soccer player giving the camera an enthusiastic thumbs up. You chuckle at the silliness of it before texting him your address and flopping back down on your bed. A relieving sigh leaves your lips as you turn your body to stare at your empty ceiling.

This had been the very first time someone's texted you since the incident and had intended a neutral conversation. It's nice to see that someone wants to message you and not feel the need to be mean. You can't even count the numbers you've had to block with both hands. For days and days, you'd get anonymous threats and passive-aggressive insults. No doubt from Jungmin's friends. You pause. But Jungkook is technically Jungmin's friend too.

Goddammit. Can you have one single victory? Apparently not. So you stay lying on your bed, pissed at the world and hoping this stupid, cringy teenage angst won't last too long.

For some reason, you'd thought the incident would blow over in a couple of weeks. Adults have led you to believe that most things don't last in high school. But they'd been wrong. Your peers are still giving you evil side-eyes whenever you come up in their peripheral vision.

You've lost about a thousand Instagram followers. And counting.

It had been so bad that you had to quit the cheer team, not able to stand the constant gossiping and whispering that had taken place with you just three feet away from them. Some of them had refused to hold you up properly during flying practice, which is also concerningly dangerous. That last time you'd gotten injured in cheer practice had been an accident; if it happened again this time, you would definitely think it was premeditated. And sure, maybe you aren't physically injured now, but it hurts too much internally. No one seems to care either. Because no one begs you not to leave.

So today, as fucking usual, you're forced to eat lunch by yourself. There are people not-so-secretly staring at you, wondering why the once so popular cheerleader girl had found herself eating lunch alone and completely friendless.

God, you'd been so fucking popular. You had a boyfriend. You were a goddamn cheerleader for fuck's sake. And now who the hell are you?

You pick at your lunch, appetite dwindling down under the harsh gaze of your peers. You begin to sweat, keeping your vision trained at your feet.

Fucking hell. At this point, you're actually contemplating reading The Great Gatsby. But not even this kind of incident could force you to read that kind of literature. Instead, you fish out your phone to watch Netflix, hoping the burning eyes will cease their incessant staring—either that or you'll just stop caring.

But it's hard to stop caring when you've cared so much in the past. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your ex... and lo and behold, fucking Jeon Jungkook. They're laughing with their stupid, rowdy group of friends, walking past the corridor you've settled in. Immediately, you duck your head down and pretend you're immersed in the blank screen of your phone. But from the reflection of your black screen, you can see Jungkook smile at you as he walks by.

You scoff quietly. What kind of fucking game is he playing? How can he be so kind to you and still hang out with trash bags like Jungmin? Could it be another one of those stupid bets? Your head reels at the horrible thought. Fuck. And you still have to meet Jungkook on Saturday.

Should you cancel? Make up an excuse? Pretend you're sick? Lie that you moved out of the country? Fake your own death? Run away with your sister to Neverland and avoid all impending adult responsibilities? Fuck, that sounds nice. But it's also not possible.

You'll have to wait for your brain to come up with a brilliant excuse to get out of seeing Jungkook again.

But Saturday rolls around and you still haven't come up with your million-dollar excuse. You've thought of the basics: 'I'm sick,' 'sorry I forgot I had other plans,' 'my parents said no,' 'I'm grounded.'

Yet when you begin to text those excuses to Jungkook, you can't seem to press the fucking send button. It feels wrong to lie. Besides, if you keep avoiding him like this, how on earth are you two going to finish this project? It's practically worth a whole test grade. You can't possibly fuck up your life more and end with any unsatisfactory marks.

At 9:59 a.m. your goddamn doorbell rings.

You can't believe this motherfucker's early. Maybe he wants to get over this as much as you do. Before either of your parents—or god forbid your sister—can get to the door, you beeline down, opening it up to see the boy.

He's dressed casually in some dark jeans and a black hoodie, messy hair peeking out through the hood tugged over his head. He's smiling, hand waving at you like you're some old friend of his. You just grumble your salutations before getting in his surprisingly clean (and expensive) car.

"You have a nice house," he tells you during the ride to Min's.

"Thanks."

That's the end of that conversation.

Jungkook's nice enough to pay for your basic house special milk tea boba (you're not gonna complain over complimentary drinks), and the two of you get to work immediately.

"Okay," Jungkook sighs, setting up his laptop and looking at you, eyes large and curious. "I reread the Sparknotes page yesterday. I think I kinda get what's going on in the book."

You nod. "That's good," you say. Keep it simple. Keep it short. Straight to the point. "What should our project topic be?"

Jungkook grins as if he's got the best idea in the world. "Duh, the easy route would be the American Dream."

You were afraid he was going to say that. It's such a typical fucking answer, anyway. Over-analyzed, overused and overdone. Of course he'd say the American Dream. Although the dream is fucking bullshit and only benefits men (who are predominantly also white). But do you have a better idea? And you also don't want to sit here and argue for a more creative topic. The point is to get this over with. "Yeah. Sure."

Surprisingly, Jungkook is a hard worker. But maybe it's not so surprising after all. You've heard he's an absolute god in AP Chemistry and passes his math classes with flying colors. Point made, he's definitely not stupid—especially considering that he's a Welton student.

Hours pass fairly quickly. The two of you are immersed in meticulous research, pulling out important-looking quotes from godsend Quizlets. It's actually a chill workday. Almost like you're on a study date with a friend. Except that boy next to you is not your friend.

Still, you can tell that Jungkook's respectful. He doesn't make weird, dirty jokes like Jungmin's friends usually do around girls. He treats you like he treats other guys. He treats you like you're human. It's a foreign feeling. You're so used to guys making indecent 'jokes' that you didn't actually think a high school boy could be this calm in the presence of a girl.

But your boy radar is absolutely shit. So you shouldn't even trust yourself at this point.

Just in time (before you get too lost in your thoughts), Jungkook speaks. "Hey."

You look up at him. "Yeah?"

"Can I..." He hesitates. "Can I ask what happened?"

Goddamn. Everything had gone so well up until now. You tense up, eyebrows furrowing and head already aching. It's obvious exactly what he's asking about.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Jungkook says when he senses your discomfort, which he should've predicted before he asked such an invasive question.

The only thing you can muster up is a: "I broke up with him."

"...That's definitely not what's being passed around."

You sigh, slumping back in your chair. "He's a sexist piece of shit." The words tumble out of your mouth before you could've stopped them. Maybe you'd put two and two together in your head before, but it actually feels good to let it out. Yes, Jungmin is a piece of shit, and the way he treats women makes it very, very apparent.

There's a bit of silence on Jungkook's end. Then: "Yeah... I heard some allegations against him."

You do a double-take, eyes widening as you stare at the boy. "Then why the fuck are you still friends with him?"

"Listen, listen," Jungkook says, hands raising up as he tries to defend himself. "I don't really like him either... I mean, I don't wanna get involved with someone who could potentially be an actual uh, actual assaulter... but—"

"But what."

"I dunno!" Jungkook exclaims. "It's bro code. You wouldn't understand."

You scoff. "I wouldn't understand? Well then fucking make me understand because bro code is kinda ruining my life right now."

Jungkook gives you a look. "Don't you think that's a little dramatic?"

You stare at him for a long time after that. So long that the boy gets fidgety. Yeah. You do have a shitty guy radar. You thought Jeon Jungkook was different. Turns out he's the exact fucking same.

"Nobody talks to me. Everyone hates me. Have you seen the things they write about me on Instagram? I've been called a whore for deliberately choosing to end a relationship that was hurting me. I've been called a slutty virgin and apparently, I crave attention and boys' validation and I'm just 'playing hard to get for a good fuck.' And god, have you seen the way they look at me? I had to quit cheer because everyone was giving me the silent treatment. They wouldn't even grab onto my feet properly and I really thought they'd let me fall. Again. And this time on purpose. When I got out of my wheelchair and started using crutches, no one helped me around. And I have no friends anymore. Do you think I'm being dramatic now?"

That was all just the tip of the iceberg too, but it seems just enough to make Jungkook speechless. You take the liberty to quickly pack up your belongings. He watches you, mouth slightly agape and looking at you with bulging eyes. He looks like an uglyass goldfish at the moment. You hate that you ever thought he looked like a cute bunny. Your hand reaches out to pick up your unfinished drink but you think better of it. You're gonna leave it. Swinging your backpack over your shoulder, you walk out of the place, not bothering to look behind you. And Jungkook doesn't even bother to yell after you to stop.

The minute you're out, you pull out your phone and call your sister.

"Hey... Can you pick me up?"

"Girl, I'm in the middle of class."

"Fuck."

"Where are you?"

"Min's. The boba place downtown..." You can feel your sister contemplating over the phone. "I'm so sorry but I swear, if you do this for me, I'll do your laundry for a week. Just please. Pick me up right now."

"I was gonna pick you up regardless of your tantalizing offer, but now that you've already put it on the table, I'm not gonna say no."

You want to cry tears of joy.

"I'll be there in a few."

"Thank you. Oh my god, thank you."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm the best fucking sister."

"You are."

When the call ends, someone behind you clears their throat. You whirl around to see the person you least want to see at the moment. He's looking frustrated, hair messier than it was before and his hood falling off his head.

He's gripping your boba drink, hand jutting out for you to take it from him. "Oh, c'mon, Y/N! I swear I didn't know any of that. I didn't know it was that serious."

You step backwards. "Yeah, well, that seems like a common theme amongst you boys. You never know anything but you pretend like you know the whole fucking world."

Jungkook takes a step forward. "Come on. We have a project. We can't fight like this, Y/N. Please... I have a borderline grade in this class right now." He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need... I need a fucking A, okay?"

"So what?" you scoff. "You're gonna get a fucking swim scholarship anyway."

"So what I'm doing right now is apologizing. I'm sorry. I really, really didn't know it was that bad. I mean, I saw you alone at lunch and stuff, but I thought you just wanted space. I didn't know... I didn't know you lost your friends."

You shake your head. You've spent too long being a pushover. Letting people run you over endlessly. You've been goddamn patient—at home and at school. You just can't let it slide anymore.

"I'll make the presentation slides and write the script," you say, regaining your cool and staring straight at the wide-eyed boy. "You make the poster. We don't have to meet again. We've done enough research today."

Jungkook sputters, "B-But that won't make a cohesive project!"

"Figure it out, then." You glare at him. "I. Don't. Care."

Now, he looks desperate. "C'mon, you have to give me another chance."

The memory flashes before your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Jungmin. I'm so sorry." You're sobbing, ugly tears running down your cheeks and dripping to the ground. "I just can't do it anymore. I can't be with you."

"What the fuck, Y/N? You can't do this to me."

"I'm sorry... I just—I'm breaking up with you. Please, understand."

"No. No. Y/N, you can't. That's—We've been together for what? Three years?"

"Four."

"Four years, then. Fuck, you can't do this to me, baby, please. Give me another chance."

You'd said no then, and you're going to say no now.

Jungkook takes your answer as well as Jungmin had. "No, Y/N, seriously. I know—I fucking know I haven't been sensitive to your feelings or whatever. But hey, I do wanna help, okay? You know how fucking long I waited outside the girls' bathroom waiting for you to come out? And you know how much anxiety I got because I was going to be late for my next class but I also didn't want to leave your stuff outside without someone guarding it???"

Oh. So that had been Jungkook. And sure, he'd helped in the littlest ways, but it all cancels out. How can he still be friends with Jungmin? Is this some sort of dumb trick?

"Jungmin's not putting you up with this, is he?"

"What?" Jungkook looks exasperated. "What the hell do you mean?"

"This isn't a bet?"

"A bet??" Now, he looks confused.

You sigh. "He dated me as a bet. He and his other friends just wanted to see who could get into their girlfriends' pants faster. Jungmin lost."

"Oh, god."

"I know," you say. "You don't know what I had to deal with."

"No, no I swear," Jungkook insists. "I swear this isn't a bet, Y/N. This is all me. On god. I'm not even that close to Jungmin. We're just friends, okay? I didn't know he did that kind of shit."

"Yeah, well, he thinks cheer and dance aren't sports. Coincidentally, I've done both at one point in my life. And when I got my injury, he canceled hoco on me because he was too embarrassed to go with a girl in a wheelchair. You know that he asked another girl out too? We were still dating at the time."

Jungkook's mouth hangs open. "...What..."

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "Whatever. Sorry. I'm just rambling now. Whatever. God, when the fuck is my sister coming?" you mumble. Unfortunately, Jungkook hears.

"I could've taken you home..."

"Yeah, well. Too late."

Silence.

"But I really am sorry..." Pause. "And I want to put our best in this project."

Of fucking course. Is he really sorry for you or is he sorry that the project's gone up in flames? You want to bite back at him, sass him, give him a mean reply you never had the joy of saying to Jungmin but your sister pulls up right by the sidewalk. Thank fuck.

Without looking back, you immediately get into the car, slamming the door shut behind you. Your sister raises her eyebrows.

"Your friend over there is cute," she says. But she takes one look at your face and sighs. "Another asshole, huh?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah, I'll get you out of here." She steps on the gas and the two of you swerve out of the parking lot and onto the road. "Don't waste your time on guys like that," she tells you as she drives. "It doesn't get much better in college, either. Just stay single like me and you'll be just fine."

On Monday, you don't want to go to school. But your parents would have an absolute breakdown if they learned that you ditched. And even more than that, you need to pay close attention in your classes—it's a good distraction from everything else that has been happening.

The strange, rude looks are gone. But now, nobody even bothers to look your way, making you feel absolutely invisible. Which, you don't exactly mind as much as being called a 'slutty virgin,' whatever the fuck that means. It seems like an unintentional oxymoron, which is concerning given the fact that students at Welton are supposed to be smart. Whatever.

I'll show them, you'd written in your diary. I'm putting everything into school, now. I'll get into a good fucking college and become a millionaire. They're gonna feel like fucking idiots.

But you still can't get used to sitting alone at lunch. There's just nothing to do. The school wifi is spotty on personal devices, and you don't exactly want to waste your data and watch Netflix like last time. You think about it for another moment, then with a gigantic sigh, you pull out The Great Gatsby.

Maybe it's time you actually read this shit.

You've seen thousands of nameless people on the internet claiming the book was their absolute favorite. You suppose you can finally see what the hype is all about.

But turns out, this book sucks. Though some sentences are well-structured and sure, the writing is pretty eloquent, you're sure you could come up with a more intriguing plot than whatever the fuck this is. You're already halfway through the book and you've been rendered unimpressed.

Yet reading the actual book gives you a much better idea of the story than Sparknotes or even Shmoop. Not that you care about getting the best understanding of the book; you could care less about getting a good grade on this stupid project. Your IB Lit grade is already pretty high anyway.

And Jungkook? Well, his grade is his own problem now. He hasn't texted you after the incident on Saturday, so you just assume the two of you will finish the project separately. Completely fine by you.

On Tuesday, you have an AP Physics II and AP Chemistry test. Neither of them bothers you too much, and you find yourself reaching to finish the second half of The Great Gatsby instead of studying for them. You'd finished the book at home yesterday and its contents have occupied your mind for hours now.

Even during lunch, you sit down, munching on your food and head buzzing with thoughts and interpretations that you'd missed on your research Quizlet runs. One quote seems to echo in your mind.

"I hope she'll be a fool—that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."

Daisy Buchanan had said this, the iconic queen that she is. Unfortunately, other readers don't seem to agree with you. There are accusations of which readers seem to wonder if Daisy had ever loved Gatsby. She's objectified and vilified for choosing financial stability over her feelings. Many think of her as vain and shallow to chase after money but men are praised when they do the same thing. Men, like Gatsby, are allowed to believe in the American Dream—the sole premise that if they try, they'll make it out to succeed. But this dream doesn't apply to women, who are thought of as weak and submissive. Even if they have big dreams, even if they want to make their own wealth, they're given far fewer opportunities. The only way for them to find their success is through marriage. So, what's so wrong with Daisy wanting success? Why is she the so-called antagonist?

Your head begins to hurt, mulling over all these thoughts and mean misunderstandings. Why are we reading this? The sexist subtones of this fucking book are barely discussed either. So are we just going to accept this blatant discrimination against women and assume it doesn't happen anymore?

Now you're absolutely livid. And it's time for some more research.

Chemistry and physics forgotten, you spend the brunt of your lunchtime looking up articles about Fitzgerald and his history as an author. Maybe that could shed more light on his rather questionable take on women in The Great Gatsby. What you find, however, makes you progressively angry.

Fitzgerald was one shitty fucking man. Definitely worse than Jungmin, too. He'd been caught taking large snippets of Zelda Fitzgerald's (his wife's) writings from her diaries and letters and having the sheer audacity to publish them as his own. He locked her up in their home and claimed she was deranged, which furthered the downfall of her mental health and stability. That man had treated Zelda like shit. And somehow, he's the bitch who gets praised in history.

Your head hurts from these revelations. It's almost hard to suppress your anger and for a moment you have to close your eyes and take calming, deep breaths.

But that's when someone clears their throat in front of you. Looking up, you see fucking Jeon Jungkook of all people. He's holding up his lunch bag, smiling kindly. God, you want to wipe that smile straight off of his face.

"Mind if I eat lunch with you?"

You stare at him. Well, more like glare at him, completely stunned into silence. What the fuck is his business? What is he doing? Why is he here?

But before you can even tell him, 'No. Get lost,' he opens his mouth and:

"I left Jungmin's friend group soooo yeah, I'm kinda in need of a lunch buddy right now."

Your mouth drops open. "You... You left Jungmin's group?"

The boy just shrugs. "Nah, it's not a big deal. Well... Maybe it is. We kind of had a fight, I guess. He admitted to doing a lot of... questionable things. I don't know. I don't support what he did, though. So I thought I'd do what you did. Cut him off."

Well... You're pleasantly surprised. But the words that come out of your mouth contrasts your thoughts.

"I know you have plenty of other friends to go back to."

Jungkook shrugs and he plops down next to you on the floor. "So? I wanna hang with you."

What the fuck. You're rendered speechless.

And maybe Jungkook senses the awkwardness because he shoots a question right away. "Sooo, what are you doing?"

"Thinking. Researching," you reply.

"Researching?" Jungkook asks. "Again?"

"Yeah, well, I found out Fitzgerald's a fucking incompetent bitch who stole his wife's work. Also, I read the book and I hated it. It's just so... god, it makes me mad that we idolize this sort of literature that condemns innocent women."

Jungkook's eyes are wide. "He plagiarized??? And we study his work?" He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Seems very much counterintuitive. I think you have a good point."

Your head jerks toward him. "Wait, I do??"

"No, seriously," he says. "The book does condemn innocent women and Daisy deserves justice. Wait, shit. This topic is so much better than the American Dream. We should totally go the feminism route."

This is the first time you've ever heard a guy say the word 'feminism' in an unmalicious way. It is a shocker, indeed. "Wait... really?" you ask. "You don't feel... I don't know, uncomfortable? Jungmin was always uh, uncomfortable when I brought that kind of stuff up with him."

Jungkook frowns. "That probably has something to do with the fact that he's an ignorant piece of trash. I'm trying to learn to be better, I guess. High school's not all there is to life. It's probably better to hang out with people like you than people like Jungmin."

Maybe you miscalculated Jungkook. Goddamn. Maybe he's being nice for the sake of being nice. Maybe you can trust him. How is he the only person you've met at Welton who is likable? Welton students don't like to learn for intrinsic reasons—they're all grade-obsessed zombies. But Jungkook proves otherwise. Does this mean you're actually going to give him another chance?

You take a look at the serious boy next to you. His eyes are slightly narrowed, forehead creased. He looks goddamn genuine.

You know what? A second chance, it is.

A small smile breaks from your lips. "I agree."

From watching your smile, Jungkook's serious look morphs into a look of happiness. "So?" he says. "Are we working together, partner? We'll kinda have to start over, though."

You give him a slight nod. "Min's? Today, after school? I'm buying this time."

"Deal."

The two of you chat until the end of lunch, and Jungkook even walks you to your physics class. Right before you're about to go into the classroom, however, he grabs your shoulder and leans in. Your eyes widen at his close proximity.

But Jungkook just simply whispers in your ear. "For the extra credit question, you have to use theta on the outer side of the triangle the bridge and the boat make to get that side length. The answer's 2.67 m/s. Good luck."

And just like that, he leans back, waves at you and walks away like he hadn't just given you the answer to the almost impossible extra credit questions your teacher likes to give.

So he does care. And he is nice. But wait a minute. It's that thing your sister always tells you. Guys aren't nice to you without some kind of an ulterior motive. Does Jungkook want an A in this class that badly? Still, you desperately want to believe that he's different. You want to believe that he just simply wants to be your friend.

And although you have so many thoughts jumbled up in your brain, you manage to ace the physics test, which really comes as second nature to you. You're not so lucky with the chemistry test, however. No worries, though. The generous curve will save your ass. And besides, you're kind of excited to meet Jungkook after school. There's a lot to discuss about The Great Gatsby.

"It's completely wrong how we're out here praising Gatsby for being so persistent with Daisy," you say. "He's unhealthily obsessed and we're supposed to feel sympathy for that kind of behavior."

Jungkook nods, sipping his drink.

"Daisy doesn't owe Gatsby jackshit. If she chooses Tom over him, that's her right, and she shouldn't be called the 'antagonist' for rejecting an incredibly immature man."

"No yeah, you're right," Jungkook says. "Daisy is written as a fickle, foolish woman and it doesn't sit right with me that we're insulting her for the same things that men do."

"Exactly."

Jungkook catches on quickly. And soon, the two of you have enough material to sit comfortably and chat about things other than the infuriating sexism of the Roaring 20's. As typical Welton students, there's not much else to talk about, though.

"So, do you have a dream school?" Jungkook asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

He nods, seemingly understanding your college crisis. "But do you have a major in mind?"

In your wildest dreams, you'd love to be in the performing arts—to pursue dancing or even cheer. But there's always that notion of you wanting to prove something. There's something inside of you that just believes you'll regret going down the arts path when you have the perfect capability of pursuing STEM. And there is a lack of women in those departments...

You shrug. "I dunno. I'll probably go for physics or biochemical engineering."

"Damn," Jungkook says. "So you're smart smart."

You laugh. "Not exactly. But what about you? You have a dream school? A dream major?"

"Me?" Jungkook smiles. "I've got my eyes on Yale swim."

"Oh wow. You're smart smart."

He just shrugs in response. "I just wanna get out of here."

"Out of California, huh?"

"Yeah. Just to meet new people and get away from the Welton kids," he laughs sheepishly. "But we both know at least ten of them are gonna get into Yale next year anyway."

You snort. "Yeah, well, Welton kids and the Ivies are best friends."

"You could get into an Ivy League if you wanted to, Y/N," Jungkook insists. "I mean, c'mon. President of three clubs, cheerleader, straight A's, volunteering. What couldn't they like about you?"

"No one even comes to my club meetings anymore. Also, I'm an ex-cheerleader," you laugh. "And besides, they want a tragic backstory or whatever and the most 'tragic' thing that happened to me was Jungmin. I don't think they'll care much about ex-boyfriend talk."

"Eh. If that doesn't work then you can always try buying your way in."

You turn to him, eyes wide before realizing that had been a joke. You giggle, shaking your head. "I don't want to go to an Ivy."

"You don't? Then what was the point of going to Welton?"

You groan. "Well... I kind of followed Jungmin here..."

"Oh, shit."

"I know. Stupid of me. But hey, I know better now. I have no idea what I want for my future, but I'm figuring it out at my own pace. By myself."

"That's good to hear though," Jungkook says. "I think a lot of us don't know what we want. But we're expected to know anyways. Funny, huh?"

You nod, chewing on your boba thoughtfully. "Sometimes I wonder about the whole point. You know, getting into a 'good' college. Why do we care so much about the name?"

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess it's all about reputation. I don't know about your parents, but mine would kill me if I didn't get into an Ivy. Think about all the people who'd talk. 'He was in varsity swim, took hard classes and couldn't even get in?' I can just imagine them saying that kind of shit."

"Damn. My parents just want me to leave the house," you sigh. "I guess it really is different for everyone."

"Yeah. I guess it is. But for now, it just seems like happiness isn't really a priority," Jungkook says. "It's reputation over comfort."

"Maybe this will all make sense when we're older," you offer. "Maybe it's because we're so young."

"We're practically eighteen," Jungkook laughs. "I'd say we're pretty close to adulthood. But then again, it's the experience that makes up adults and not age, huh?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "At this point, I can't wait to grow up."

Jungkook smiles. "Me neither. Sometimes, I forget that we're just high schoolers."

"We study like college students, anyway," you snort. "It's easy to forget, I guess."

"I'm just scared we'll go to college and it'll be the same damn thing," Jungkook says.

"It could be."

"And you're not scared?"

"I mean, I feel like the worst has already happened to me," you laugh. "Maybe you're scared that you'll just peak in high school," you tease.

Jungkook just laughs along with you. "Oh, I'm not just scared, I'm terrified it'll actually happen."

"Don't worry." It comes out of your mouth before you can really register what you're saying. "You're definitely only getting better from here."

Jungkook looks surprised at your sudden compliment, but he hides it with a bright smile. "That's actually a lot coming from you, you know." A pause. "Smartass."

You're giggling, though being called a smartass isn't quite a compliment, it's really the way he says it that uplifts your spirits to the sky. Talking to Jungkook is actually more interesting than you'd thought. Maybe not all Welton students are mindless grade-zombies. Maybe more of them—like Jungkook—have deeper dreams, thoughts, plans. Either way, this is the most enlightening and genuine conversation you've had in years.

Jungkook seems to have enjoyed it too because the next thing you know, he's offering to drive you home. Unfortunately, you have to refuse since your sister had already volunteered to do the job (and who are you to decline your sister over a high school boy?). But the two of you part with smiles and good laughs—much different from last time.

Once you get in your sister's car, she turns to you, frowning. "So you're hanging out with the asshole again," she says. "Don't you hate him?"

"Hello to you too," you laugh. "And Jungkook? I don't know... I think I might've misjudged him. I mean, have you ever seen a guy invested in women's rights?"

Your sister snorts. "Yeah. The ones who wanna get into your pants."

This time it's your turn to frown at your sister. "You're saying he has an ulterior motive."

She nods. "Yeah, guys are like that. You'll see," she says, stepping on the gas and glaring at Jungkook who's waving from the side mirror. "Just be careful."

Your sister's looking out for you. You know that. And sure, maybe you feel a little wary deep inside, but... Jungkook really does seem nice. You might even go as far as to call him your friend after today. The real problem arises though when you ponder about whether he thinks what you have is a friendship. Is he assuming something else? Like what your sister believes?

God, you'll never know.

The Lit project isn't due for another month.

In the vocabulary of a typical Welton student, that means most haven't started the project—while the others (a minority) have already finished it.

You and Jungkook are in the healthy between, having completed the PowerPoint presentation and a basic outline of your script. All you really need to do now is finish the script and make the time-consuming poster board.

Meanwhile, everything at school falls into a pattern. Turns out, Jungkook has another friend group he's been hanging out with—all friends from swim. You're introduced to Seokjin, Jimin, Miru and Yejin. They're a nice bunch who are studious but also know good meme references like normal high school students should. They bring you comfort and company—two things you desperately needed since a disaster tornado called Jungmin struck. The six of you eat lunch together every day and you attend all of their swim matches. You know that if you were still in cheer, they would've gone to all of your performances.

"Hey, you ready to meet my mom?" Jungkook asks you as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

You do the same and shrug. "I dunno. Do you think she's going to approve of me?" you joke. "What if I'm not studious enough?"

He snorts. "You can't get more studious than that, Y/N."

The two of you exit his car and you find yourself in front of a rather nice house. It's large, well-decorated and has a grassy green lawn blooming with a variety of different flowers. "My mom insists on hiring gardeners," Jungkook laughs when your eyes widen at a particular bush trimmed to look like a deer. "Let's just say it gets really loud on Thursdays."

Now you're a little nervous to meet his mom—even as a friend. Is she the type to exile you if you're not up to par with her standards?

Jungkook enters the password on his lock and his front door opens silently. "I'm home!" he calls. "Y/N's here too!"

At that, a voice calls from around a corner. "Oh? Y/N!"

You and Jungkook take off your shoes before entering his home, only to be engulfed by warm welcomes from his mother. She looks very pleased that Jungkook brought a friend over and makes you know it by offering you plates and plates of fruit.

"Mom," Jungkook hisses. "We'll eat later, I promise. We have to do our project first."

"If you need anything, Y/N, just ask Jungkook," she tells you with a kind smile. "If he doesn't do as you say, I give you permission to hit him."

You laugh. "Thank you Mrs. Jeon! But I assure you that I'm not that demanding and Jungkook's always very nice to me."

"Nice?" Mrs. Jeon raises her eyebrows. "Ooh. Okay then." She grins. "You keep being nice to her," she tells her son, patting his back. "I'll leave you two to finish your project!"

The moment she leaves the dining room, Jungkook sighs. "She's always like that when I have friends over. I promise she's really scary though."

You snort. "She seems nice to me!"

Jungkook just shakes his head (though a smile rests on his face) and splays out the blank poster board that you and he had bought together last weekend on one of your Target trips. Immediately, the two of you get to work.

As typical Welton students, you and Jungkook mean absolute business. So much so that the two of you finish everything you'd intended to in just a couple of hours. You sit back with Jungkook, admiring the finished poster board and double-checking the script for the last time to make sure everything is coherent and perfect.

"I don't think it can get any better than this," Jungkook comments as he laughs at you reading the script for the umpteenth time, nitpicking the littlest words and phrases. "Your sister's picking you up at 7, right?"

"Mhm," you say, nodding. "Damn, that leaves us a whole two hours."

Jungkook thinks for a second before his face lights up from an idea. "Hey, let's hang out in my room, then. There's more to do there than down here."

You end up following Jungkook up to his room, watching as he plops down on his bed while you awkwardly lean against the door frame, unsure of what to do. You've never exactly been in a boy's room before—not even Jungmin's. He never let you in there. Your eyes take a swift glance around the rather large room. It's littered with glittering golden trophies and medals but other than that, it's plain and undecorated. The bedroom seems to lack the personality that Jungkook very much has.

But you also take notice of a nice mini fridge in the corner and a flatscreen T.V. right in front of his bed. Damn.

"Want something to drink?" Jungkook asks when he catches you eyeing his fridge. "I have lemonade, Sprite and Coke. Diet, I think?"

You politely decline with a shake of your head. "No, I'm fine." You're still awkwardly standing in front of the doorway.

"Then you wanna watch something?"

Glancing at his T.V., you decide that yes, some quality television will help ease the awkwardness. "Sure."

Jungkook pats his bed, gesturing for you to sit on it with him as he gets out a remote control from his bedside table and turns the T.V. on. You carefully perch on the edge of the bed, minding the weight you put on it before staring at the screen. Jungkook's browsing through his Netflix account, mindlessly scrolling through the options.

Your eyebrows raise as you realize he's been watching quite a few animes, the most recent being Attack on Titan. "Oh? You like anime?" you ask him.

For some reason, Jungkook looks embarrassed. "O-Oh... Yeah. But I swear I'm not a weeb or anything."

You snort. "Well, I heard some good things about AOT..."

Jungkook looks excited at your words and he grins. "Then do you wanna watch a few episodes? Subbed because that's always better."

You nod your head, yes, shifting in your seat to a more comfortable position.

"It's kind of gruesome, though," Jungkook warns you. "Is that okay?"

"I'll live," you snort.

And with that, you become immersed in a strange fantastical world of strange monsters and even stranger solutions. The first episode leaves you terrified and confused. The second episode leaves you excited and yet still confused. The confusion never ends but the excitement only grows.

At the beginning of the sixth episode, your sister calls. Both you and Jungkook jump at the sound and he laughs, pausing the show for you to pick up the call.

"Hello?"

"Come out, Y/N, I'm here."

"'Kay."

You turn to Jungkook. "God... That was..."

"Right?" He grins. "It only gets better."

You quickly stand up, straightening your clothes and gathering your school items. Jungkook follows you to his front door, opening it for you and sheepishly waving his hand goodbye

"Uh..." you trail off awkwardly, slipping on your shoes before staring at the taller boy. "I had fun."

He beams. "Me too."

You give him a final wave and then you're walking out of his house and into your sister's car. The moment you get in she asks, "So? How was it?"

You're not sure how you're going to explain this. "I dunno."

She turns to you, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It's just that..." you pause. "Maybe I misjudged him in the beginning. Because right now, he's uh, pretty great."

Your sister raises her eyebrows. "'I have feelings for you' kind of great or 'wow such a good friend' kind of great?"

You roll your eyes. "A good friend. I'm trying not to get in another relationship in a while."

"Hope he knows that too."

"God, do you have to be so cynical?"

Your sister raises her hands in the air. "I'm not! I'm just trying to warn you. You know, help you."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Your sister always has good intentions for you. She works her hardest to be your second mother, to give you advice and support when you need it. But this time, maybe this time, her judgment is wrong.

The adults were right. With time, the drama begins to settle down. The bullying online comes to a stop—either that or you just don't notice the aggression as much. It's been quite a while since you've been on social media. You used to spend every waking moment with your old groups of friends taking Instagram-worthy photos. These days, you don't remember the last time you've insisted on taking aesthetic photos with Jungkook and your new friends. When you spend time with them, things feel so natural, so well-paced that you don't want to interrupt the moment by photographing it.

With time, your relationship with Jungkook also strengthens.

What started as a one-time Friday night AOT watching marathon turns into a weekly tradition. Now, you and Jungkook find yourselves using stream-sharing applications to wind down from the long weekdays and watch your show together in the comfort of your own homes. Sometimes, it seems like Jungkook loves watching your facial expressions a little more than actually watching the show. He likes poking fun at your terrified reactions when disaster strikes and finds it humorous when you begin to yell at the characters on the screen. In just two weeks, you've almost finished the whole anime with a few episodes of season four, part one left.

Jungkook suggests you come over to finish the anime (or at least what's been released so far). And who are you to decline?

This time, lying on his bed feels more natural. Popcorn and all kinds of snacks surround the two of you as your eyes glue onto the screen, watching the intense action sequences and gasping at the plot twists. Jungkook finds your reactions just as entertaining as the show itself.

The moment the final episode of the season finishes, you throw your hands in the air. "I need to know more!"

"We'll have to wait for this season's part two," Jungkook laughs, sipping his can of Diet Coke.

"I don't know if I can even make that wait," you groan. "When is it coming out?"

Jungkook grimaces. "Well... in a year or so."

You groan, falling onto Jungkook's bed and covering your face with your hands. "I definitely can't wait that long."

"Just stay away from the internet," Jungkook warns you. "You'll need to watch out for spoilers."

You sigh, picking yourself up from Jungkook's bed before glancing around his room and catching sight of your Lit project poster. "Hey... I just realized we never rehearsed our presentation."

"Oh right," Jungkook snorts. "I've read over my script a couple of times and called it a day. Wanna give it a whirl now?"

The two of you scramble up and take the presentation from the top. It's perfect. There are no mistakes. Neither of you stumbles over your words (having memorized large chunks of the script already). If you present just like this in a couple of weeks, you're guaranteed an A. But what else would you expect from a couple of dedicated Welton students?"

Soon, you and Jungkook have sprawled on top of his bed again, lost in conversation.

"Nah, my AP scores are ass," Jungkook sighs, picking at the loose thread on his comforter.

"At least you've got something to show on your SAT," you pout. "I'm barely at the average a Welton student should be."

"I can't believe we have to worry about standardized tests on top of our GPA," Jungkook says. "Sometimes I feel like we're not actually learning anything."

"Right?" you say. "It's always about scores and numbers and the goddamn letter 'A.' We learn only because we have to—for our grades—but not because we genuinely wanna learn."

"Even when I want to learn more, when I ask my teachers questions, they always answer with, 'That's not on the test,'" Jungkook sighs.

"I know! Mr. Kim, we don't give two fucks if it's on the test or not. We just genuinely want to know more."

"It's as if learning without a letter grade is a foreign concept to them," Jungkook says.

"School isn't education," you snort. "It's a business. We're just feeding into it."

"And I guess it all comes back to capitalism," Jungkook says, grinning. "Not that what we think matters anyways. Adults think we're too liberal and we're only this way because we haven't 'lived life.' Other kids our age just don't really care."

"It's because they think our criticisms are baseless," you say. "They think we're stupid to point out the problems and then not do anything about it."

"But what are we supposed to do about it? To them, we're too young to actually offer solutions but we're also too old to be complaining about societal issues. Which is it, really?"

"They need to make up their damn minds," you say, rolling your eyes.

"I'm just glad I have someone to rant about this shit with," Jungkook says, turning over to face you. He’s grinning and his eyes are sparkling with an emotion you can’t quite discern. You don’t know what it is about him but you smile right back.

"Me too."

"Listen, I just got the craziest idea."

Your eyebrows raise. "Really?"

"We should go to prom together."

Your eyes widen. And your heart sinks. Is this what your sister tried to warn you about? That he never even considered you as a friend? That you were always someone he has to date, to be in a relationship with?

When Jungkook sees your hesitation, he panics, stuttering as he tries to relay his next few words. “Wait, I… Sorry, I meant like, you know, as friends.”

Oh.

You’d misinterpreted him, then. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh,” you laugh nervously. “Sorry. I thought… yeah, whatever. No, I mean, yes. Let’s go.”

“We were planning to go as a group,” Jungkook explains. “You, me, Seokjin, Jimin, Miru and Yejin. Jimin’s unofficially officially going with Miru and Seokjin’s going with Yejin. As friends. It’s just a big friendly friend group date night,” he explains almost sheepishly.

You giggle. “That sounds really fun.”

Jungkook looks at you, smiling fondly. “It will be.”

He drives you home that night, waiting until you safely get into your house before resting his head against the wheel. He gathers his breath before shifting gears and driving away without another glance behind him.

Miru and Yejin wanted to take you shopping for prom dresses but you'd already promised your sister that honor. Besides, Miru and Yejin are too nice to honestly tell you what dresses actually look good on you.

“Ew that's fucking ugly, take it off,” your sister snorts as you twirl around for her in a sleek black dress.

“It looked good on the mannequin!” you protest.

She snorts. “Everything looks good on the mannequin. Besides, who are you trying to impress here, anyway? Jungkook said you’re going as friends so don’t go looking all regal or he might change his mind.”

“I trust him,” you say.

Your sister stares. Finally, she sighs. “You know what? Maybe I’ll trust your judgment this time. In that case, look.” She points at a silvery blue dress hanging nearly hidden on the sales rack. “Doesn’t that one look nice?”

You have to agree. And when you try on the dress, your sister cries mock tears, pretending to wipe them away with her sleeve. “My little sister’s all grown up.”

“Oh, shut up,” you laugh, twirling around in the sparkling gown. “Do I really look great?”

“Have I ever told you a lie?”

You think for a moment. “Well, yes. Remember when you told me babies come from storks?”

“I wasn't about to explain the whole reproductive process to a six-year-old!” she hisses. “But I’m serious. It’s beautiful. You look great. And it’s on sale. A win-win!”

The dress is a keeper. Your sister buys it for you from out of her own pocket, and you make a note to yourself that if you ever end up rich, you’re gonna buy her a fucking car or something. She was always your second mother (and your preferred one at that).

Soon, the day of the dance comes and your sister’s making the last few finishing touches on your makeup when the doorbell rings.

“They’re here,” you tell her as your sister cleans up the edges of your eyeliner and pats your cheek adoringly.

“Have the time of your life,” she says. “High school doesn’t last forever.”

“Such good advice,” you laugh. “Any more parting words of wisdom for me?”

She pretends to think. “Hm. No. Just have fun. And stay safe.”

Your sister walks you down the stairs and you put on your heels at the front door as your sister opens it. There stands Jeon Jungkook, a bouquet of yellow flowers in his hand, wearing an elegant navy suit with a silvery blue tie.

The moment he sees your dress, he laughs. “We’re matching!”

Your sister raises her eyebrows. “Wait, you guys didn’t do it on purpose?”

“No,” you giggle, taking the flowers from Jungkook and smelling them. “We didn’t plan this at all.”

“I was actually betting on you wearing yellow,” he snorts, gesturing toward the bouquet. “But your dress outdid my own thoughts. You look great.” He grins, nose scrunching cutely as he outstretches his arm. “The others are waiting in Seokjin’s minivan.”

You smile at his compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Thanks. You look good too.”

Your sister watches your exchange with raised eyebrows and a look of amusement on her face. “Well, go out and have fun, you two. And Jungkook?”

“Yes, ma’am?” he says, saluting at your sister.

She snorts. “Get her home by three.”

“I’ll do you one better and get her home by midnight.”

Your sister nods approvingly. “Well, that leaves seven hours of fun, doesn’t it? Get off the porch, then! Bye, Y/N!” She waves at you enthusiastically, almost as if she’s sending you off to college. In reality, you’re just going to dinner and a dance.

You and Jungkook rush into Seokjin’s minivan, sitting together in the back and screaming the lyrics to Party in the USA. Jungkook had offered to buy everyone dinner at a nice sushi place. Thank goodness they put you in a walled-off room because Seokjin and Jimin talk everyone’s ears off. It takes two hours to eat with Yejin ordering more and more sodas for everyone because today’s her cheat day. At one point, Jimin and Miru stir up the most revolting concoction of soy sauce, sriracha, sugar, wasabi, water and lemon juice and dare Seokjin to drink it. He does, to everyone’s surprise. For the next fifteen minutes after, tears stream down his face from the spice and disgusting taste. You and Jungkook giggle, filming his reaction to keep for memory’s sake. Yejin pats Seokjin on the back and orders him a can of Sprite.

By the time the six of you leave the place, it’s dark outside. You’re running a little late for the dance (a consequence of having such a fun-loving friend group). But it also means you miss the crowd at the entrance so you get into the dance fairly easily.

The theme for prom this year just so happens to be ‘Out of this World,’ which works perfectly with your and Jungkook’s outfits. The six of you dance so hard in the flashing lights and loud music that after three hours, you’re sweating bullets and kind of feeling the need to throw up.

Jungkook announces to the group that you and he are going to play the galaxy arcade games around the refreshments table, which prompts the whole group to follow you. Turns out, Jungkook is an arcade pro. He makes the games look easy, and ends up beating the high score on the machine.

While the rest of the group goes back to dance, you and Jungkook decide (well, you decide) that you’ve danced enough today to last a lifetime. To avoid the mustiness of sweat and the stuffiness inside the building, Jungkook leads you out to the quad. The two of you walk around the dimly-lighted space before you suggest heading over to the baseball field.

You and Jungkook climb up the metal stadium stands, laughing and giggling at who knows what. He slips off his suit jacket, wordlessly handing it over to you. How he knew you were cold, you have no idea. The two of you sit side by side, with you leaning back to stare at the dark sky and Jungkook leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. It’s silent for a while as the two of you let the night breeze caress your wet faces and gather your thoughts.

You tug Jungkook’s jacket closer around your frame. It smells like him. Fresh lavender soap and warm vanilla. You want to sink yourself into the scent forever.

It’s so serene like this. Just the two of you. Winding down from the loud day with silence.

Why does it feel like you should be leaning against him?

Why does this feel romantic?

“My stomach’s gonna burst,” Jungkook says. He effectively lightens the mood and makes you laugh at such a sudden confession.

“The sushi’s still sitting in your gut, huh?” you laugh. “I don’t know how Seokjin’s faring after drinking that nasty thing.”

Jungkook laughs along with you. And his laugh is the prettiest laugh you’ve ever heard. Twinkling like the night stars and light and silvery like wind chimes.

When you look at his face, illuminated only by the dim stadium lights and moonshine, you realize then and there that you might feel something for him.

Fuck. Not now. Why?

But he treats you as his friend. Hell, you want him to treat you as his friend.

“I think I see Orion’s Belt,” Jungkook says, nudging your shoulder and pointing at the sky.

You squint. But all you see is the black sky. The stadium lights make it hard to see anything out in space except for the moon. “I don't see shit.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Me too. I was just joking. I don’t know shit about astronomy.”

You smile. You don’t want to jeopardize this. You’re not going to mess this friendship up. It’s too perfect.

“Oh shit, it’s like twenty minutes to midnight. I gotta get you home.” Jungkook stands up and holds his hand out for you to take.

You look up at him and decline his offer, standing by yourself. “We need to gather up our friends.”

Jungkook snorts. “Nah, we should take a Lyft. They’re probably dancing their hearts out and I don’t want to cut their night short.”

“You should go back to them,” you say. “I don’t wanna cut your night short. I can take a Lyft back home by myself.”

“Wow, you wanna get rid of me that badly?” Jungkook laughs. “Your sister would have my head on a stick if I let you go home alone this late.” He pauses. “And I enjoy your company. I’ll call the Lyft.”

Minutes later, you and Jungkook sit in the backseat of a car, the middle seat acting as some sort of barrier between the two of you. It’s silent during the whole ride. You can’t help but replay the moments you’d spent with him today over and over again. You wonder what Jungkook’s thinking about. How he had the time of his life with a friend, probably. Either that, or about how tight his pants are around his stomach after that huge meal.

God.

Why do you have the urge to pull him by his collar and kiss him? You want to sit close to him, rest your head against his shoulder. Be with him.

That familiar feeling crawls back to you: patheticness.

You try to tell yourself that you’re just lonely. That you'd use any excuse to feel like you’re in a relationship again. But no. You genuinely like this boy. And you’re going to do everything in your power to hide it, to ignore it.

When the Lyft stops in front of your house, Jungkook opens the door for you and you slip out, minding your gown. He walks you up to your doorstep and you shrug his suit jacket off, handing it back to him.

He mumbles a small thanks before grinning widely, revealing his bunny-like smile. You have to look up at his hair to avoid falling for it even more.

“I had the best night, Y/N,” he says. “See you on Monday?”

You nod, eyes sparkling as you stare into his own. This is the moment in movies where you kiss. And then someone would open the front door and interrupt you.

But this isn’t a goddamn movie. Nor are you in a cheesy high school romance story.

“Thanks, Jungkook. I had a lot of fun too.”

And without any kisses, any parting words of romance, the two of you part.

I forgot what it feels like to like someone, you write. But I remember now. My insides feel twisted upside down. It’s hard to speak sometimes. I have to rehearse what I say so I won’t stutter and sound like an idiot. I want to put up my best front for him. But he’s comfortable being himself around me. I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do but act like nothing has changed. Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook for waltzing into my life and staying.

It feels like an era is ending. Everything had started when you'd met Jungkook for the Lit project, but now things feel like it’s coming to a close. Because today’s the day you and Jungkook present your topic.

And it’s quite amazing if you say so for yourself. Better than some of the other topics you’ve witnessed the past few days during presentations. More than half of the presenters have chosen the American Dream as their topic, and after a while, it gets irritatingly repetitive.

But your topic is a breath of fresh air.

Your teacher is head over heels in love with the idea.

“What a refreshing take on The Great Gatsby, Jungkook and Y/N. In my twenty-seven years of teaching at Welton, I’ve never seen anyone approach this topic before. You've both made excellent points and you've opened my eyes to the quandaries of modernism."

He gives you a 98. It's not 100 (but Welton teachers try to withhold from a perfect score at all times), so you and Jungkook know it's basically the best score Mr. Kim's willing to give. Compared to Jungkook's friends' 78's and 83's, 98 is quite the accomplishment.

"This kind of achievement deserves some celebration!" Jungkook hoots as he pumps his fist in the air. "Boba after school?"

Boba after school, indeed.

The two of you walk to Min's side by side, arms swinging next to each other but hands never quite touching. "I still can't believe we aced that thing!" you say.

"Really?" Jungkook grins. "I can. We're just that good."

You smile. "I think he took off two percent because I stumbled over my words for half a second."

Jungkook just shakes his head, chuckling. "Nah, he took off two percent because I forgot to bring my formal shoes."

"How do you know?" you giggle, eyes following down where Jungkook's pointing at his black hightop Converse.

"He wrote it on the rubric," Jungkook laughs. "But even if I did wear the right shoes, you know he would've found some way to prevent us from getting that 100."

"Maybe then he would've actually taken off points for my half-second verbal blunder," you say. You're about to say more when you look up at your surroundings and see a familiar building that casts a shadow over the two of you. It's a nice-looking place with a scarlet red sign reading Hart's Dance Studio, and there's that slim silhouette of a ballerina jumping over the top. When you were younger, you'd always imagined yourself to be that ballerina. Tall, graceful, majestic.

Jungkook stops walking to look at you staring intently at the building. "Do you know this place?"

"Oh yeah," you sigh. "I used to go here almost every day for practice."

"Right. You were a dancer," Jungkook murmurs. "Do you... do you um, miss it?"

Miss it? Of course you do. "Yeah..." You nod slowly before turning to Jungkook and beaming. "I don't miss the people there at all, though. I found my people right here." You point to Jungkook's chest, making a motion to jab at it. He laughs in response and puffs out his chest.

You're not sure if you're imagining it. But his eyes sparkle in happiness? amusement? as he laughs. And for just a split second, his hand grazes yours. You feel the electricity from the top of your head to the tips of your fingers. Your heart beats quicker—too quick and your face is warm even though it's a little breezy outside today.

"I found my people right here too," Jungkook says. He pats the top of your head before tousling your hair.

And that's when you know that he considers you as his best friend. You consider him as your best friend too. A best friend you currently have feelings for.

Junior year ends with an absolute bang! Your grades have never looked better, your mental health is immaculate and your friend group is toxicity and drama-free. With the blessing of your stable academic life, you're able to commence hot girl summer with no regrets.

"Fuck private school," Yejin snorts. "I'm going to a community college and transferring. Saves money and tears." She sprays excessive tanning ointment onto her legs, lathering it into her skin for maximum effect. "Jungkook, are you still looking at Yale?"

He nods sheepishly, adjusting his swim goggles on top of his head. "Have been since day one."

"He's training for it every day," you giggle. "Of course he's gonna get in."

"Hurry up and go do some laps," Seokjin orders. "I want a 500 free, stat!"

"Make it 1,000!" Jimin yells.

Jungkook just rolls his eyes but he flexes his arm muscles and stretches his back, enunciating the faint outline of a six-pack and hardening his thigh muscles. "Fine."

You have to struggle to make eye contact with him, not daring your eyes to wander further down to his well-toned body. He dives into his pool completely flawlessly—there's barely a splash of water. And he begins to swim.

Usually, you're at his backyard pool with him alone every morning, watching and helping him train. You're his lap counter, his timer and sometimes, you get to sit on his back when he does push-ups. On slower days, you watch him make laps around the pool as you sit down on his poolside chairs and do some extra physics studying. But today, Jungkook has invited the rest of your friend group for some poolside fun. Except no one's looking to get in the water (having done enough of it at school).

"Seokjin's aiming for Vanderbilt, Jimin's for Georgetown and Miru's into Duke," Yejin announces. "You still don't have a dream school, Y/N?"

You nod your head. "I'm probably going to go to a UC," you say. "But I'm applying to three privates."

"Oh?" Seokjin says. "That's new news."

"Yeah. I'm looking at Caltech, Stanford and MIT."

"Easy money," Yejin snorts.

"With your stats, you'll get in," Miru says.

"I highly doubt it," you snort. "Besides, they've been picking fewer Welton students over the years. So something's not working out on their end."

"Then the UC's it is," Jimin declares. "Don't worry. We'll all get into at least two of them. Maybe as Regent's Scholars." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Have any of you started your applications?" Miru asks. "I don't wanna write my essays and sound like I'm forty-five and in a mid-life crisis. But I heard Ivies eat that philosophical bullcrap up."

"Just be you," Seokjin sings, which earns him an ungrateful push from his friend.

"Nah. Just write about how an egg salad represents your life," Yejin says. "They also seem to eat that shit up."

"Or write about how you're not like the other girls," you say. "They'll go absolutely batshit crazy for it."

Miru rolls her eyes. "Your advice is what sounds batshit crazy," she grumbles. "But there's also a hint of truth in it. Which is what makes it so depressing."

"You should ask Jungkook for some real advice," you say. "He's halfway done with his Yale application already."

"What???" Jimin hollers. "It's the beginning of summer!"

"That's what makes him Ivy material," Seokjin snickers.

The five of you turn your heads to watch Jungkook make ceaseless laps across his pool, his speed steady and never decreasing. He's always hard at work, always pushing towards his goal. If anyone deserves to get into a good school, it's him—and that's your totally unbiased opinion.

"Step on the brakes. Yeah, the brakes. Shit, Y/N! That was the accel!!"

"Sorry!" you squeal, hair in disarray as you slam your left foot on the brakes. "I get them mixed up!"

Jungkook grips the grab handle and smiles nervously. "Um, Y/N, I kinda wanna live to see the end of our senior year."

"Don't worry. I'm pretty sure we'll last 'til then," you say, tongue peeking out of your lips as you concentrate making left-hand turns around Jungkook's gated community.

"You're driving 30 when it's 15!" Jungkook wheezes. "What are you in such a rush for? Slow down!"

"It's so boring when we're going so slowly," you complain, sighing as you lift your foot from the pedal. "Hey, want me to drive us to Min's?"

Jungkook looks at you like you're crazy. "No??" He pushes your shoulder lightly. "Here, I'll drive us there. Let's trade seats."

You're a giggling mess as you sink into the safety of the shotgun seat, and even Jungkook's grinning, shaking his head as he shifts his car gears. "I don't know how you do it, Jungkook," you say. "You make driving look easy."

"Maybe it's an inborn talent," he snorts. "Or hours and hours and hours of practice."

"Want anything to drink?" you ask, crouching down in front of Jungkook's mini fridge and surveying the drinks that are stored inside. "Ooh! You bought strawberry Fanta!"

"Yeah 'cause you like it so much," comes Jungkook's answer. He stretches out on his bed, shifting through the shows and movies on Netflix. "Can you hand me a Powerade?"

You toss the bottle to him and he catches it with one hand, without looking. You settle down next to him on his bed, holding your can of strawberry Fanta and staring at the screen. His bedroom lights are dimly lit for the purpose of home theater but it sets a rather romantic mood—especially with his golden trophies twinkling in your peripheral vision.

Jungkook pulls out a silky blanket from behind his pillows and splays it across your laps, careful so that more of it lands on your side than his. Your heart flutters at his thoughtful gesture.

Legs touching and shoulders leaning against each other, you and Jungkook watch About Time for practically the fiftieth time together. It's both of yours' comfort movies. Something the two of you watch when there's nothing new on the streaming platform. And no matter how many times you lie side by side with Jungkook, watching a romantic movie, you can't shake off your feelings for him. He glows in the darkness, eyes shining with enjoyment and softening when he turns to look at you for your reactions. Or maybe you're imagining that.

You probably are.

Either way, by the time senior year rolls around, you've seen more sunlight and fun in one summer than your whole other years at Welton high school. All thanks to Jeon Jungkook.

The option of confessing to Jungkook has lingered in your mind for some time now. But a confession would be fruitless if you're not expecting him to do the same. Why put a perfectly well-going friendship on the line so I could get something off my chest? you scribble across your diary. Jungkook and I are perfect as we are right now. There's no other way I'd want our relationship to—

"So are you and Jungkook dating yet?"

You sigh, setting your pen down and turning around in your chair to see your sister grinning, leaning against your door frame.

"We're just friends," you say, closing your diary.

Your sister flounces on your bed, resting her face in her hands. "But he's a great guy, though." She wiggles her eyebrows. "You've gotta admit."

"Yeah, well, he thinks of me as a friend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"So you do like him."

"...Mhm."

"I mean, you have my blessing and everything," your sister says, sitting up from her position and cocking her head. "But you're not going to confess, huh?"

"Never."

She gives you a strange look. "I know it sounds counterintuitive to what I've been telling you for years, but when you see a guy like him, you know the right move is to go for it?"

You laugh out loud, eyes widening at your sister's words. "Are you saying Jungkook's the perfect boyfriend material?"

"He drives you everywhere. He helps you study. He buys you food all the time. He even taught you how to drive," she points out. "I don't even know a lot of boyfriends who'd do that for their girlfriend."

"He's just paying me back for helping him with all of his swim training," you say, shaking your head.

Your sister raises her eyebrows as if she finds that hard to believe. "Suit yourself," she says. "If I were you, I'd confess. You'd be surprised to see how he reacts."

"Jungkook's probably going to Yale, and I'm going to stay in California," you say. "There's no point confessing so late in the game, you know?

Your sister shrugs. "Long-distance?"

"Never," you reply. "And this is if Jungkook even feels the same way. Which, he doesn't."

"All right, all right," your sister says. "I'll stop pestering you." She gets up from your bed and lingers at your door frame. "But I'm telling you it'll be easier to get out of the friendzone now than, I don't know, six years down the road."

You roll your eyes as you watch her leave. Now, this is where your sister's wrong. You have no intention of leaving the friend zone. Besides, you don't have time to worry about boy trouble. College apps are due just around the corner.

You barely even have time to meet up with Jungkook and your other friends. What makes your sister think you can have a whole hypothetical relationship?

Your teachers refuse to let up on their workload, too. You'd think they'd go easier on you as seniors are balancing their college apps with their school life, but you should've known Welton teachers are merciless. But you manage to score your straight A's and leave just a smidge of time to FaceTime Jungkook every now and then.

The two of you keep a bucket list of things to do as soon as college apps are finished. Things including a tour around LA, late-night drives, cafe study dates (the term date used completely platonically) and museum viewing.

There's a part of me that wonders if I even deserve to be friends with Jeon Jungkook. How can someone be so perfect? Or am I just not seeing the flaws?

If I can barely digest being his best friend, how would I ever date him like my sister wants me to? I'll never confess.

And I'm fine with that.

But you're not fine.

When he smiles at you, talks to you, even just sits next to you in silence, your heart feels like it's going to burst.

When he picks you up, opens the shotgun door for you, when he compliments your improving driving skills, when he suggests going for a boba run at 10 at night... They're all moments that make you realize that you're falling for him more and more. It feels dangerous to be into someone like this. Does this mean you're too blinded to see him for who he really is? Or have you fallen for this man because he's so impossibly perfect?

"Y/N..." he calls your name. His voice is like that of a siren's—tantalizing, delicate and alluring all at once. He stares into your eyes, his brown ones softening as he carefully reaches forward to graze his fingertips on your cheek.

"Hm?"

But before you can really react, Jungkook surges forward and captures your lips with his own. Your mouths slot together perfectly, his hands cupping your face and your arms moving to sling around his neck. You imagine he tastes like fresh mint or maybe even Mountain Berry—from all that blue Powerade he drinks all the time.

Wait.

Imagine?

Fuck.

This isn't real.

You blink back to consciousness, cheeks heating up that you'd ever fantasize about kissing your best friend. It's humiliating and though no one else is in your room with you, you hide your face with your hands. This isn't the first time you've daydreamed about being with Jeon Jungkook.

And ever since your sister told you to 'go for it,' you've been weighing her words heavily in your mind. Is she actually wrong? Or are you just stupid and stubborn?

Jungkook haunts your thoughts in the daytime and even at night in your dreams. Is it right to continue on being with him platonically when you're having all these other thoughts?

You're not sure what to do.

Should you really just fuck it all to hell and confess???

College apps are officially finished.

You're finally (half) free from the gates of hell. You and Jungkook decide to celebrate the day by sneaking out of your houses and going for a late-night drive to Yogurtland. Jungkook picks you up in his car, throwing you his spare jacket while laughing when he realizes you're in just a t-shirt and shorts.

"Why aren't you in warmer clothes?" he chastises you and ruffles your hair.

You huff. "You gave me like five minutes to prepare. I only had time to brush my hair, which you just messed up. These are my pajamas."

Jungkook giggles but he hands you the aux cord. "I'll give you a better warning next time. It's your turn to choose the music."

With your other friends, you always sweat bullets when it comes to choosing music, but you're so comfortable around Jungkook that you don't care if he judges your music taste. Lauv's The Other fills the warmth of Jungkook's car as he drives you down the night streets and toward your destination.

"You chose a normal song this time," Jungkook comments, drumming his fingers on his steering wheel and glancing over at you picking at your fingernails.

"Oh, just wait 'til the next song comes one."

Sure enough, you've chosen to play the Shinzou wo Sasageyo, the opening song for Attack on Titan's season two. With the little Japanese that you and Jungkook know, the two of you scream the lyrics and make up new words along the way. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you look over at Jungkook who's absolutely singing his heart out, having the time of his life.

The two of you are in an ecstatic mood when you reach the Yogurtland parking lot.

"So did you tell your parents you're coming here?" Jungkook says as he opens the door for you and a wave of cold air hits your face.

You snort. "No. Told my sister, though. She's covering for me. You?"

"Told them I'm getting gas," he says.

"That's a shit lie!" you giggle. "We're gonna have to make it back quickly, now."

"Or I can just tell them there was traffic."

"At 10 p.m. on a Tuesday night??"

Jungkook just grins. "You know what? We'll stay as long as we want, and I'll deal with the consequences at home."

Time passes by so quickly with Jungkook. The hours you spend with him feel like seconds and the dashing smiles he sends your way make you want to swoon. Sitting in the darkness of his car with your ice cream in your hands, you don't have any idea how much better life can get. It's so intimate like this. You wonder if Jungkook senses the same atmosphere as you do.

Why does it feel like this is a date?

It's the soft blue lights of his Mercedes. The faint smell of lavender lingering in the car. The cold ice cream in your hands and the warmth of your seat. It's the boy sitting right next to you, gazing at you every so often before taking a bite of his frozen yogurt. It's the comfort you feel around him—enough to show up to meet him in your pajamas and no makeup on. It's the trust you put in him to get you back home safely. The obvious fondness the two of you have for each other.

Shit.

You've fallen even harder than before.

Jungmin's in the past now. Memories of him have been buried in the very back of your mind, replaced by recollections and pictures of your new friends and, of course, Jungkook. You'd forgotten Jungmin even existed until big news explodes in your face.

"Did you hear?"

"Holy fuck."

"Jungmin got into Princeton!"

"Bruh, it was early, too. Because of soccer!"

Yejin rolls her eyes. "They're idiots, picking another blithering idiot to join their team."

Five of your friends stare right at you to gauge your reaction, but you shrug. "I don't really give two shits about where he goes to college."

"Nice!" Miru says, smiling kindly as Seokjin slaps your back with a proud grin on his face.

"I just know he won't be going too far in life with that attitude," you say. Your friends all nod in agreement. Well, except one. He's awfully quiet today, actually. But you decide to let it slide for the time being. Maybe Jungkook's having a bad day.

But by the time school ends, everyone knows two things. Son Jungmin got into Princeton and Jeon Jungkook failed to get into Yale.

Jungkook doesn't seem to want to talk about it. When people (rudely) ask, he waves them away with a frown on his face (you've never seen him look so angry and depressed). It doesn't help that people are talking, too. It's Jungkook's worst fear, all coming true. Even when he sees you, his face doesn't relax and he fails to smile. His eyes are wet but he never lets himself spill the tears, opting to look down at his feet the whole day.

You don't understand his pain of losing his chance to go to his dream college, but the least you can do is comfort him.

"Hey..." you say, patting Jungkook's shoulder. He barely glances your way. Shit. It's pretty bad. You've never seen him so unreactive before. "Let's go get some ice cream and hang at your place."

There it is. He looks up, eyes glistening and encompassing all the gratefulness he has to offer. Then, he nods. "I'll drive," he croaks.

Even when he's sad he tries to be considerate. You shake your head. "I'm driving." He doesn't protest after that.

You do your best to drive as smoothly as you can, slowing down at a considerable pace near speed bumps and making round turns to avoid jerking the car. Jungkook follows you into Target, where you pick out four pints of ice creams—all flavors that he loves. You drive back home, meet his mother (who looks just about as depressed as Jungkook is), and drag the poor boy upstairs.

"Sit," you tell him, pointing at his bed before making your way to his mini fridge and pulling out two blue Powerade drinks. "Let's watch something fucking hilarious."

The show for today is Friends, which makes Jungkook's eyes light up but his mouth is always set in a stern line. You lean against him, scooping up ice cream on his plate for him and handing him a spoon.

"I'm okay, you know," he tells you. But the quiver in his voice and his refusal to meet your eyes tells you he's really not.

You pat his leg. "They didn't deserve you, anyways."

Jungkook's eyes flash. He jerks away from you, face flushed and eyebrows lowered dangerously. "Don't you fucking say that!" he yells. "Don't you fucking tell me they didn't deserve me." Tears begin to spill out of his eyes. "You and I both know that's a lie. I didn't get in because I'm not fucking good enough. Even after everything I've done, I'm never enough!"

"Jungkook..." Your voice comes out weaker than you'd imagined. "I-I wasn't lying." You didn't think your words would cause him to lash out like that, but maybe after hearing the same thing for a whole day, he couldn't handle it anymore.

"It's fucking over." He cries, body shaking as he covers his face with his hands. "It's fucking over!"

You don't know what to do. You've never known what to do when people start crying in front of you. Are you supposed to tell them lovely words of affirmation? But what if you say something wrong again? You opt to stay silent, awkwardly patting Jungkook's back.

He instinctively leans in towards you, still sobbing. When you shift to hug him, your head leaning against his shoulder, he cries concerningly louder. You let him cry his feelings out. And when his lament dwindles down to soft hiccups and sniffles, you hold him tighter. He's warm in your arms but his cold tears have also stained your shirt. You don't mind.

"It's not over," you whisper to him. "There are more decisions coming out in a couple of months," you say, rubbing slow circles on his back. "I... I know you wanted to go to Yale, Jungkook... But..." you sigh. "But you said it yourself. Capitalism. College is a business, whatever. Just know that you are good enough. I don't care if the admission officers couldn't see that. I don't even care what the hell you think of yourself. Because sometimes, your perception of yourself is just plain wrong. I... I think you're amazing, Jungkook." You lightly squeeze his arm. "And hey, ten years down the road, none of this will matter. Just look at me and what happened with Jungmin. None of that crap matters to me anymore and it's only been like what? A year?"

Jungkook's sniffles come to a stop and he finally looks up at you. His eyes are red, his nose a little runny and his forehead is covered in beads of sweat. Before you can stop yourself, you reach forward and use the soft pad of your thumb to wipe the last of Jungkook's tears off of his cheeks. He stares at you, the tenseness of his body dissipating as he becomes more relaxed in your arms.

Then:

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "I...I sh-shouldn't have... I shouldn't have yelled at you."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I guess this makes us pretty even, then."

Your comment puts the teeniest smile on Jungkook's face. "Yeah, I guess it does." He pauses for a moment. "Come here," he says, taking you in his own arms and letting you rest your head against his chest. "You're the best, you know that?"

You smile. "I know."

Just like you'd predicted in just a few weeks, Jungkook's back to normal again. College apps are still out of the way, which means you can have as much fun as you want—grades aren't that important anymore.

You and Jungkook check off everything on your bucket list and go beyond what you'd imagined. The two of you manage to ditch school in the middle of the week and drive to the beach, wading into the cool waters and building sandcastles from scratch. By sunset, you're walking along the pier with him, side by side. Now this, this seems like an actual date.

His hair has been gently tousled by the wind, his cheeks sunkissed and glowing in the setting sunlight. His lips are soft and shiny, thanks to his (mild) obsession with vanilla chapstick. When he grins at you, you can see the faint dot under his lower lip—the cute little mole that he's actually insecure about (but you find adorable).

You're so close to him that every so often, your bare shoulder brushes against his. If you move your hand just an inch, you'd even be holding hands. But you swallow the lump in your throat and decide against it. That's weird. Why would you randomly reach for his hand? It seems wrong. Forced.

God, you wish you could tell him that you like him. But no, you can't. What if he doesn't like you back? You don't want to risk making things weird before going off to college. But then again, what if he does like you? Perhaps that's even worse. What are you going to do? You barely applied to the same schools and long-distance isn't something you see yourself doing for anyone. Not even Jeon Jungkook.

And as the weeks pass, your decision remains unwavering. Especially when you and Jungkook commit to your colleges.

You've never thought much about UC Berkeley, but the price is friendlier than any private and as an incoming student in the College of Engineering, you're bound to be taken care of. This also means you're staying in California, which makes your sister very happy. She makes you promise that you'll visit every month—and if you can't make the drive, she'll go for you.

Meanwhile, Jungkook commits to Brown. Not quite the same as Yale, but it's an Ivy and his parents are proud. You're happy for him—just as he's happy for you. Yet all of this really means that you'll be going to college on the opposite ends of the country. It was expected, but the reality of it is daunting. Will the two of you really FaceTime every week like you promised each other? Or will your friendship inevitably die out?

But Jungkook is adamant about spending his last few moments of high school with you.

One day, sprawled out on his pool chair, he turns to you, a glistening grin on his face. "Hey. Wanna go to senior prom with me?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Yet the prom Jungkook was thinking of is not the traditional senior prom you've dreamed about; he suggests the two of you go to anti-prom—dressing for the occasion but ultimately skipping the actual dance. It's a spectacular idea.

This time you do end up wearing a pretty yellow dress and coincidentally, Jungkook wears a yellow tie. (The odds of matching serendipitously—again?—maybe you are meant to be.) He drags you everywhere across town. First to a mall for refreshments, then to a fancy steakhouse for dinner. Your other friends are nowhere to be found.

At 10 p.m., the two of you make a night drive up a hill, parking at the very top and admiring the view of your sparkling hometown. It's prettier at night, the neon restaurant signs and warm car headlights mixing together to create wonderful blurs of color. Everything about this feels serene. The soft lights of Jungkook's car, the ambiance of the slow dance music he insisted he turned on, the muted aroma of sugary vanilla and fresh lavender...

You turn to Jungkook, heart beating quickly in your chest—only to find out he's been looking at you all along, dark eyes sparkling a little in the moonlight. Ducking your head down in embarrassment, you manage to calm down your quick breaths, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and avoiding eye contact with the boy sitting next to you.

God.

You'd pay any sum of money to buy enough courage to confess right here and right now. Or you can do it for free—no regrets. You look up at Jungkook, his soft bangs falling over his eyes and obscuring his expression for just half a second before he sweeps his hair away from his face. He smiles, corners of his pink lips rising as he gazes at you.

Your heart is beating so quickly that you can feel the thumps in your head. Are you actually going to do it? Confess to him? Right now?

It's so romantic.

How could he not feel the same way?

Unless...

No.

You're going to do it.

You're going to get this over with.

Fuck it all to hell.

"Jungkook, I—"

He silences you when his hand grazes over yours. The electricity jolts through your intertwined fingertips. Then, he moves—cautiously—to encompass your whole hand in his. His hand is surprisingly cold. A breath of fresh air in the inexplicable fire building up inside of you.

"Your hand is so sweaty," he laughs, squeezing your intertwined hands together.

Your face burns.

"I don't mind," he says.

Your body feels like it's been engulfed in flames.

And there you are, sitting in his warm car like two yellow blooming flowers, reaching out for each other in the darkness. It can't get better than this.

I'm going to tell him, you vow. I have to tell him.

I'll tell him at graduation.

Most students feel giddy during graduation. Others feel nervous—graduating means that they're finally moving on in life, going to college, accomplishing bigger things and leaving the safe nests of their homes. You fall in the latter group; however, for totally different reasons. You're nervous about Jungkook's reaction.

No number of pep talks and self-assurance can change how you feel. You're terrified.

What if he doesn't like you back? What if he thinks you ruined your friendship with him?

Even after you receive your diploma and bouquets of flowers from your sister, you feel queasy inside. And nothing's going to fix that until you finally get the words out.

What's he going to do, anyways? You're going to different colleges on the opposite ends of the country, so if he completely turns you down, you won't be totally humiliated for the rest of your life. Besides, you're not exactly asking him out. You're just going to tell him that you like him. What he does with that information isn't up to you.

You're just trying to get this off your chest.

"Hey!"

Speak of the devil.

Jungkook rushes up towards you, his honorary medals and cords clinking together as he makes his way through the crowds of students and parents and teachers—his eyes only for you.

"Hey," you say, smiling as Jungkook ruffles your hair like he always does. He's holding a large bouquet of daffodils in his hand, and you can't help but notice how well the color yellow suits him.

"College now, huh?" he says, grinning.

"Imagine going to an Ivy," you snort, nudging the boy.

He rolls his eyes. "And you're going to the best UC. But don't let the UCLA brats hear me say that. They'll run me over or something."

You giggle at his joke, hands already clammy for what's to come.

Jungkook plucks a single daffodil from his bouquet, reaching out to hand it to you. You take it with flushing cheeks.

A pause.

Then:

"We better keep in contact." "I like you, Jungkook."

The two of you say at the exact same time.

You want to facepalm. The worst timing ever!

Jungkook's face scrunches in confusion. "Wait, sorry, what did you say?"

Your ears burn. "I like you." Your fingers anxiously tangle around the stem of the daffodil Jungkook had just given you.

He's stunned into silence. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, body frozen.

You watch him, embarrassment tinging your face. Why isn't he saying anything? Doing anything? Is he so disgusted by the idea of you having feelings for him that he doesn't even want to see you again?

Slowly, you begin to step away from him. Each step you take severs your heart more and more.

"Y/N."

You freeze.

When you look up at his face, you see Jungkook, obviously distressed, running his fingers through his hair and eyebrows deeply furrowed. "You can't do this to me," he says, massaging his forehead.

"I-I can't?"

"Yes!" He throws his hands in the air, eyes wide and chest heaving up and down.

"I-I just had to get it out," you say. "Don't think too much into it. I'm just... Yeah, you probably don't even feel the sa—"

"I do!" he shouts. "Oh my god, Y/N, ever since the Lit project junior year!"

Your face is stricken with horror.

You haven't talked to Jeon Jungkook in four years.

The promise of FaceTiming each other every week doesn't last a single day after graduation. In fact, you've lost all contact ever since the day both of you'd confessed. Maybe it's because you were so angry that you'd missed your chance that you never called or texted. And maybe he thought you were just joking and playing with his feelings. You'll never really know.

You hate to think about it, but he could've been your high school sweetheart. That is, if he had confessed earlier and you hadn't confessed so late. Now here you are in life with a normal job, a chemical engineering degree and a vacant love story.

Sometimes, I wonder what could've happened if I dated him in high school, you scribble across your diary. It's old now, tattering on the edges and heavy from polaroid photos from college and special receipts you've saved over the years. But you love it all the same. Would we be married by now?

That's stupid. A very stupid thought.

No. He probably moved on. Like I should've.

You sigh, signing off your diary entry before closing the notebook.

It's a brisk morning today—people are bustling about the busy street and you feel almost out of place relaxing outdoors at a nice cafe. But today's your off-day. Tomorrow, you'll be back at work, slaving away as most adults do in their mid-twenties.

Your cup of steaming hot coffee sits by your side. It's really there for the aesthetic. Even as an adult, you prefer strawberry Fanta and fountain drinks. Maybe you're still a teenager at heart. You smile, thoughts lazily drifting off as you drum your fingers against the metal table.

"Ahem."

Someone must've caught a cold in this chilly autumn weather.

"Ahem, ahem."

Okay, but seriously? Right behind you?

You turn around, ready to give a scary look to whoever was clearing their throat aggressively behind you when you see him.

It's really him.

Your eyes widen.

God.

He looks good.

That's all you can register in your head. He's grown even taller, his face muscles more defined and baby cheeks gone. The only thing that remains just as you've remembered him is his eyes—soft, wide and sparkling with curiosity.

You slowly rise from your seat.

He grins at you. Stares you right in your eyes and grins. "Hey, old friend."

There are so many things to say. So many unspoken words you've wanted to tell him in the past. So many thoughts left unsaid. So many memories to recall, to relive. But the only word that comes out of you is, "Friend?"

God.

You don't know why you said that.

Jungkook shakes his head. "I'm just joking, Y/N." His grin splits wider. "Coincidence, though, right? After all these years..."

He looks absolutely beautiful.

"I'm... I'm sorry I never contacted you," you sputter out. "You know, after... yeah."

Jungkook smiles. You can see the hint of his mole under his lip. "No hard feelings," he says. "We can tell each other our excuses over dinner."

Dinner? Your eyes widen.

"What do you say I take you on a date?"

Jungkook is your high school sweetheart. Although the two of you began your relationship way past high school, in your mind, it still counts. With earnest hearts and the purest of souls, you and Jungkook embody the beating hearts of young love and the stagnancy of patience.

Legs sprawled across Jungkook's lap, you lean your elbow against the couch and write on the very last page of your diary. It's time to say goodbye to your teenage angst after this. Time to move on with your boyfriend.

"Whatcha writing?" Jungkook asks, trying to look over your shoulder.

You giggle, sitting up with your diary in your hands. "Just something."

"Just something?" Jungkook laughs, tugging you up closer to his chest. "Is it about me?" he asks, kissing the crevice of your neck before attacking you with soft pecks across your cheek.

"Maybe!"

The two of you hold each other close, relishing in the feeling, the presence of each other. Your diary lies open next to you, left nearly forgotten. But there, on the last open page, you've written in big, loopy letters:

And now I know that the best kind of relationships blossoms from the best kind of friendships.

—masterpost

—masterlist

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astridthevalkyrie · 4 years

Text

summer rain: chapter 3

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 2, Chapter 4

You don’t keep your promise to yourself. Very unwillingly, you let Lieutenant Levi catch out after hours again, a few months later, in very different circumstances.

The day goes pretty well before the incident, actually. Nothing extraordinary or painful happens, and you even get Grumman to tell you in that gruff voice of his that you have good form. A good day deserves a good night, a nice farewell. It’s the end of the week, and since tomorrow is everyone’s day off anyways, you decide you want to have a little fun.

The usual suspects want no part in it. Millie doesn’t support sneaking out of the base, Ricky is too busy studying, and Stephen cannot stay awake past dinnertime and is always out like a light. Traitors, the lot of them. There’s absolutely no fun in sneaking out alone, so you start asking around. Surely there must be someone who feels as cooped up as you do.

And that’s how you find yourself in a bar with Traute and Nifa.

It’s an odd combination, you know that much. Nifa is bubbly, bright, and speaks very loudly when she gets drunk. Traute, on the other hand, has a glare that turns out to be helpful to ward off any amorous intruders, but when directed at you, it can be scary. She doesn’t drink at all, giving you a hard stare when you ask her if she wants anything. You only have a single glass yourself before getting up to do what you really came here for - dance.

You start off slow, the alcohol leaving your brain just a bit fuzzy after not drinking for such a long time. The musicians playing on the stage at the side sweeten everyone’s ears with a gradual but energetic melody. You grab a random man’s arm, swinging into step with him. He complies with a hearty chuckle, and now you have a dance partner. In turn, he grabs his friend, who grabs theirs.

Claps and cheers fill the air. You feel the heavy steps under you as your arms flail and you spin, right in the center of it all and enjoying every last second of it. Your hair bounces around you, falling into your face. Someone grabs your hand and tugs you into a waltz. Eventually, dancing turns to jumping, but you don’t care, you live for every second of this. The dancing, the music, the crowd, the sinful act of sneaking out and getting so handsy with everyone. The music is only egging you on.

Your hands are in the air, twirling for all you’re worth. The crowd is cheering you on, the melody is reaching its peak, the room is spinning, and you raise a leg up to finish with a grand pirouette and a wide grin.

The song finishes and you stop to a resounding wave of applause, your arms still thrown in the air.

Right in front of you is Lieutenant Levi, and he does not share the crowd’s enthusiasm.

You stay exactly in the position you are, hands frozen as though he’s caught you. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation, or maybe it’s that he somehow went to the same seedy bar you did and caught you dancing and is now listening to your admirers enthusiastically shouting for an encore as the next song starts playing. Whatever the reason is, you start laughing.

He looks funny, with his bored, fed up expression. Why does he always look like that?

Sighing at your disorderly conduct, he beckons you forward with one finger. Feeling particularly pleasant, you follow him out of the crowd, pausing only to bow with a flourish to anyone who looks at you. Apparently, Lieutenant Levi does not appreciate your desire to please the crowd, because he grabs your arm and shoves you out of the bar. You giggle, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

“Who did you come here with?” he asks, and you waggle a finger.

“I’m not telling.”

“It’s your little quartet, isn’t it?”

“I’m not telling,” you repeat, taking a few steps back from him. You have no desire to get enthralled in him once again. The last time replays in your mind enough times as it is.

The lieutenant gives you a hard look. You try your best to match it, but you end up breaking out into giggles again, the giddy feeling too good to leave you so soon. He sighs.

“You’re drunk.”

“Ooh, so clever.” You smirk, completely unbothered. He doesn’t look too mad, and you’re not worried about Traute or Nifa either. They’ll find their way back. And now you have an escort! It’s truly a special night. “I’m not, actually. I’m no lightweight. I just feel good.”

“That won’t last long,” he promises, “you just ruined my plans. Instead of having a drink, I get to babysit you. So rest assured I’m going to make your life hell, (L/N).”

Your voice unwittingly comes out in a whine. “But you already do that.”

He sighs that sigh again, placing a hand on the top of your head to spin you around and push you in the direction of the base. You laugh loudly, finding his exasperation hilarious until he gives your temple a painful flick.

“Ow!”

“Fucking brat.”

“Ooh, you’re infuriating.” The good feeling is still there, but it’s a little more bitter. He just has that natural effect on your emotions. “You make me so mad.”

“Likewise,” he responds dryly.

The lack of engagement in his voice only serves to make you more sour. For a few minutes, you remain quiet, the two of you walking side by side. More than once, his knuckles brush against yours, but you pay no attention to the contact. You’re simmering in quiet annoyance, months of being thrown around, embarrassed and disrespected all coming to a head now. The liquid courage you consumed earlier doesn’t help either.

“Was it ugly?” aren’t exactly the words you wanted to say, but they’re the ones that come out.

“Hm?”

You look at him, an uncharacteristically vulnerable look displayed on your features. “My smile. Was it so ugly that you just couldn’t stand it?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s raising a brow at you, the breeze playing with his collar a bit. You realize this is the first time you’ve seen him out of uniform, in only a simple white buttoned shirt. He looks nice.

“The day we met. The first day of training. That day.” You wave a hand to make him understand. “You didn’t like my smile, so you...did what you did. And then you did it again later. That was mean.” There’s a pout on your face now, as you remember all his past transgressions. “It must have been an ugly smile if it made you act like this.”

“What are you trying to say?” Levi looks irritated. “Spit it out, (L/N).”

So you do.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

He looks at you, really looks at you, and yet he doesn’t halt. He merely scans your questioning face, your downtrodden expression and the downward direction of your lips. You’re not trying to be difficult this time, you’re really not. You just think that you have a right to know just what you did to make him constantly come after you. Maybe once you hear it, your ridiculous attraction to him will stop.

“What makes you think I hate you?” he replies, genuinely, honestly, and your heart clenches. Before you can reply, he goes on, “I wouldn’t be training you if I hated you. Wouldn’t put up with your annoying ass presence all the time.”

Not sure what to do with such a backhanded compliment, you press on. “So what, you like me? I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies.”

“You would hate to see it,” Levi hums in agreement, and leaves it at that. There’s no confirmation as to whether or not he likes you, which you take to mean he merely tolerates you enough. That does nothing for your feelings. Oh Maria, you can’t actually believe you’re entertaining the idea of having feelings for him in the first place. There’s an attraction there, sure, in a if-he-asked-you-to-sleep-with-him-you-would-probably-say-yes kind of way. You can appreciate his features, you can admit that he’s ridiculously attractive (for a midget). But it doesn’t go deeper than that, and you know now that it doesn’t go deeper for him either. You’re a thorn in his side, who he begrudgingly agrees to train out of some sense of duty. That’s fine. Except…

Except your fascination with his eyes doesn’t just stem from you good you think they’d look above you. It’s been the same thing since day one - there’s just something about him you crave. His closeness, his attention. He’s interested you since the beginning, and you just don’t know why. It looks like you won’t ever find out.

“Hey.” Levi flicks your forehead again, ignoring the glare you throw his way. “You’re thinking too loudly. Cut it out.”

You cut it out.

Not even a whole minute later, he asks, “What were you thinking about?”

He just can’t make up his mind, can he? What an adorable little sadist.

For maybe the first time since you arrived here, you think carefully about your words before speaking. “I was thinking about something that happened once back home.” When he doesn’t say anything, only raises a brow, you continue, “Millie and I went out this one time, with this guy I liked but was too shy to tell. It was pretty late, and I was really tired, so we got separated somehow. I ended up in front of this large mansion. Large, large. Like, I grew up there as one of the richest girls on the block and I still thought it was huge -”

“Get to the point,” Levi grumbles, and you smirk at his impatience. You really do think he should hear this one.

“I knocked on the door, and these two women opened it. I told them what happened, and they agreed to let me stay the night. So I ate dinner with them and then -”

The lieutenant just isn’t content with letting you tell your story without interrupting. “You actually went in? That’s so fucking stupid. Not to mention dangerous. Why didn’t you just try to go home?”

“I’m scared of walking alone at night.” You wave your hand dismissively and hurry on before he can chide you further about how unsafe it is to trust strangers. “So anyway, I went to sleep in one of their spare rooms, but in the middle of the night...I heard something. A scratching sound. It freaked me out.”

He scoffs. “I would guess you got murdered after that, but since you’re here, I guess we weren’t so lucky.”

You look at him crossly. “Ha-ha. No, I made it through the night. I asked them about it the next morning -”

“And then they killed you.”

“No. They told me they’d love to tell me, but they couldn’t, because I wasn’t part of their secret society that they had built the mansion for. So I left, but a month later, I ended up getting lost there again.”

“You’re fucking useless.”

“Shut up.” You’re not sure where you get the gall to tell him that. “I stayed the night again, I heard the scratching again, and I asked again. But they said the same thing. So I said, screw it, I really want to know, I’ll join the secret society. They tell me that first I need to tell them how many houses there are in Stohess. It doesn’t have to be exact, but it has to be close.”

Levi’s brows are furrowed in concentration. He shakes his head with a frown, clearly running it over in his head. “I can’t see how you could figure something like that out. It would take you ages to walk through every single street and count all of them. Why would they need to know that anyways?”

You shrug. “Haven’t the faintest clue. But remember I said there was that guy I liked? His father is actually a mathematician, and the man’s a chip off the old block. So I go to him, and he helps me out. Approximates the shit out of it. I thank him with a kiss and then go to the mansion, and give them my final answer.” You lick your lower lip, basking in how intently Levi was listening to your story. “They said I was close enough and that they could finally tell me where the sound was coming from. They lead me to a gold door, and give me a gold key. Actual gold, Lieutenant.”

“Fascinating,” he mutters sarcastically.

“It is,” you agree, humming, “I open the door, but then there’s another door. This time it’s silver.”

There’s deep confusion in those grey eyes. Something is very thrilling about having him hang on to your every word.

“They hand me a silver key, and I open the silver door, and then there’s a bronze door. At this point I’m really irritated, but they give me a bronze key and promise that this is the last door. So I put it in, unlock it, and open the door. And then I finally see it.”

You’ve arrived at the base. Snapping your heels together, you press your fist to your chest and salute. “Thanks for walking me back, Lieutenant. See you tomorrow.”

“What?” His eyes narrow. “Finish the story, (L/N). What was making the sound?”

You gasp in mock surprise, scandalized. “I can’t tell you, you’re not part of the secret society.”

If only you could capture his face in this very moment. It’s as though he goes through all the stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance all in one second. His mouth falls open in surprise, and you burst out laughing, pointing at him gleefully.

“Ooh, I got you so good!”

Levi gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen, which only serves to make you guffaw even louder. You grin broadly - it feels so amazing to one-up him, even if it’s in this brief, stupid exchange. He can take this as your revenge for flustering you in the hallway a few months ago. Just who did this man think he was playing with? You are the product of the bitches and bastards of the fakest place in the world, so yeah, you can tell a story, and you can act your heart out. In fact, what were you doing here in the military? You should’ve joined a traveling theatre group, now that would have put your many talents to good use.

“Your sense of humor is shitty,” the lieutenant informs you flatly. Oh, you beg to disagree. “Laughing at your own jokes doesn’t make them good. So it was all fake, then?”

You do your best to control your giggles. “Y-yeah. I don’t just sleep over at random mansions. And I’m not scared of being alone in the dark.”

“All of it was fake?” he asks again, and this time it’s your turn to be confused.

“Yes?”

He tsks, whether at you or himself you’re not sure, then lets out a tired sigh. Sparing no further pleasantries, he orders you to bed, warns you not to be late tomorrow, and adds that he’s looking forward to the fresh hell he plans to inflict on you. You salute again, just to be extra, then start walking to the female barracks, still laughing to yourself. Hopefully this won’t seem like a hazy dream tomorrow. You got him, you really got him.

Just before you change into your nightgown, a fleeting thought pops into your mind.

Was the reason the lieutenant double-checked that the story was fake because you mentioned that there had been a guy you liked? No, that was ridiculous. He probably just wanted to check that his subordinate that he was investing so much time in wasn’t a complete idiot. But the thought is stuck in your head now, and you fight back a smile, burying your face in your pillow. Maybe you are a little drunk, but you could go back to hating him in the morning.

____________________

It’s astonishing to you, but you’ve actually improved. Gone are the days of your legs aching after running a few measly laps. When Rashad attempts to pin you down, you can flip him over and hold him there. The ODM gear starts to feel more natural, and zipping through the air is slowly becoming muscle memory. Even the swords feel just right in your hands, although it’s weird that you could run out of them and then have nothing to defend yourself with. Oh well, you don’t plan to be in that kind of situation anyways.

You hate to admit it, but Lieutenant Levi’s training is paying off. It’s not something you realize until you learn, with a start, that you are in the top ten. Number six, to be specific. Ricky mocks you endlessly for being one of those people who say they don’t care when they in fact care very much, as though he’s not two ranks below you.

Without telling Millie, you send a letter to your mother, telling her about your achievements.

Mama,

Sorry for taking so long to write. I wasn’t so sure you wanted me to. I still don’t know. But l wanted to tell you that I’m doing well here. I’m number six in the ranks. Isn’t that cool?

Millie’s doing well too, although I’m sure Mrs. Shackel keeps you updated. We have these two boys who follow us around like annoying flies. One’s from a village in Rose, and the other’s actually from an outer city of Wall Maria. Don’t worry, I don’t plan to marry a poor boy. I’ll find someone rich to settle down with eventually.

I hope you’re taking care, and I hope Grandma is too. Her condition hasn’t gotten any worse, has it? If you need me to send something from here, I’ll do my best to see if I can find it.

I wish I was the kind of daughter who could write you a longer letter. Sorry, Mama, but I’m not sure what else to say. Who knows if I’ll see you again?

Lots of love,

(F/N)

____________________

“I” - huff - “need it.”

“No.”

“I” - huff - “will” - huff - “kill you.”

“Tch. You’d try.”

“Just give me the water, please.”

“You still have a lap left.”

“I’ll do it, it’s important to stay hydrated!”

“Do the lap, then you get the water.”

“If you don’t give it to me now, I’ll faint.”

“Then I’ll leave you out here.”

“You wouldn’t - well, you would, but you shouldn’t.”

“Don’t want to. So get to it.”

“God, fine!”

“...”

“Now can I” - huff - “please have it?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“You are such a -”

“You talk too much.”

“Oh my” - cough - “God. Are you trying to choke me?”

“You wanted the water.”

“To drink, not for you to shove down my throat and waterboard me with!”

“Ungrateful wretch.”

“What are you, a charming prince from a novel?”

“Yes. Now drink up, my bratty duchess, we’ve got more work to do.”

____________________

There’s dirt on your face, your sleeves, and your shoes, and yet you stay still, with a small grin on your face. You’re lying down, facing up, hands pressed up against the ground. To anyone flying above, you’d blend in with the dirt perfectly. Or at least, that’s what you’re counting on.

Somewhere out there, Ricky is on the hunt looking for you.

Your gear lies hidden a few feet away, since you didn’t want anything chunky to ruin your brilliant camouflage. Obviously a good long wash will do wonders for you later, but for now you stay quiet, ignoring the filth on your otherwise pristine self. The forest is quiet, with the light chirps of birds that you’re sure are very cute but would take a shit on you if you stay here too long. You breathe in and out quietly, stomach tense as you wait to see if your plan will work.

The wait isn’t long. You hear him before you see him, faint clicking sounds that his ODM gear is nice enough to alert you with. Pressing down into the ground, you hold your breath and close your eyes halfway, convincing yourself that you’re part of the nature that surrounds you. If you believe it hard enough, maybe this will actually work and Ricky won’t spot you.

After a second that feels like an hour, you hear him fly away and you breathe easy, running a hand through your hair.

Only then you feel something brush up against your finger, something hairy that’s crawling up your hand -

You let out an ungodly shriek, jumping to your feet. The poor bug that crawled onto your hand is flung off as you thrash your arms this way and that, smacking your skin just to get it off, get it off, get it off!

For all your efforts, Ricky hears you scream and immediately zooms back, chortling. He lands down in front of you, placing his finger on your nose as soon as you calm down.

“Found you.”

You sigh. This extreme version of hide-and-seek may have been a bad idea.

____________________

Millie has her head in your lap, a map in her hands as she shakes her head. Apparently there’s something marvelous about the document, since she can’t keep her eyes off it.

“I don’t think I ever realized how large the space is between the walls,” she mutters, “there’s so much distance between Maria and Rose. It didn’t feel that way when we came here.”

“Yeah,” you hum, absentmindedly tracing designs on her cheek, “makes you wonder how different people get the more inward they go.”

Millie’s nose wrinkles in concentration. “Stephen has a slight accent. Have you noticed?”

“Mmhm. He does good work hiding it, though. It’s hard to pick up on it unless he has to roll his r’s.” You try snatching the map from her hands but she holds on tightly, scolding you over trying to give her a papercut. Well that’s hilarious, considering the two of your are covered in scratches and bruises all over, but that’s Millie for you, always striving for the closest thing to perfection she can get.

You lean your head back against the bark of the tree, leaving her to her observations. It’s been a while since the two of you have gotten to hang out together, away from everyone else. It’s really no one’s fault, you’re both busy and it’s not like you haven’t already spent most of your lives together. Millie has her studies to religiously focus on, her rivals to crush, and apparently her maps to drool over. Meanwhile, you have friends to playfully compete with, horrible doodles to draw next to your scribbled notes, and your mind is strangely preoccupied with…

“Look, it’s your best friend,” Millie said noncommittally, nodding her head to the right.

Deja vu hits you like a merchant’s cart. You’re sitting under the same tree, he’s walking in the same direction. When he catches your gaze, you decide to complete the scene and give him a bright smile and a friendly wave.

Levi stares at you for two seconds, and then rolls his eyes and keeps walking. You bite your lip, just slightly amused.

It’s an improvement.

____________________

"(L/N), you’ve got a letter too!” are the words that shake you out of your sleep haze in the morning. You jump up, pushing past the others trying to get their hands on their mail. Reginald, the man who's nice enough to put up with this crap once a week, thrusts an extremely fancy envelope in your hand. Your name is written on the back in your mother’s expert penmanship. You eagerly walk back to your seat, ignoring the glares and eyerolls from some people who obviously weren’t getting their letters in pretty envelopes.

You sit back down at the table, opening the letter with extra care. It’s from your mother, and that makes it precious, so you want to savor it the best you can. Across from you in her normal seat, Millie raises a brow.

“Your mom wrote to you?”

“I wrote to her a few weeks ago. Just wanted to catch up,” you say quietly, not meeting her eyes, “I’m surprised she wrote back.”

Next to Millie, Stephen’s brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t your mother write back to you?”

“No reason,” you answer quickly, “she’s just a busy woman.”

With your friends’ watching your reaction carefully, you unfold the piece of paper, beginning to read.

To my darling daughter,

You say you don’t write much, and yet it gave me a headache just to read that much. You know that I like to be organized, so I’ll answer your unwanted letter point by point.

It’s certainly wonderful that you’re sixth in the ranks. Perhaps that means you’re the sixth least likely to die? Maybe the next time I hear from you, it’ll actually be from your commanding officer telling me how special you were, but how that didn’t stop you from meeting your terrible end. Hopefully there’ll at least be a small pension that comes with it.

Mrs. Shackel and I met for tea last week. She told me you were being personally trained by the best soldier in the Scouts. I have an idea - marry him, someone with such a valuable skill set surely isn’t poor, and is much better suited to your tastes. That way not only will you leave me without a daughter, but you’ll also leave the poor man a widow as well. Would that satisfy your cruelty, dear?

I am taking care. Grandma is taking care. We are doing fine without you. We don’t need anything from you. I don’t think we ever have. Had I known I was raising such a manipulative, heartless girl, I would have prayed to that ridiculous church that you die during childbirth. Unfortunately, Sina did not give me the good instincts to run a knife through you the second you were born.

Please do not write again.

Lots of love,

Your doting mother

“(F/N),” Millie starts immediately, taking in your stricken expression. She must have a good idea of what the letter says. “Forget about it, she’s a -”

You clear your throat loudly, standing up. Stephen looks worried, but he also seems unsure as to what to do. You don’t want him to do anything, hell, you don’t even want Millie to do anything. You want to get out of here. The room is suddenly suffocating. Your eyes are stinging but you are damned if you’re going to break down in here, so you only shake your head, unable to form words. You wave a hand at Millie, hoping she gets the hint not to follow you.

Without looking at anyone, you rush out of the mess hall. Despite your determination to wait until you’re definitely in a secluded area, tears start flowing down your face the second you step out. With an ugly, pained sob escaping you, you break out into a run.

Now that it’s getting a bit chillier, the cold bites into your eyes, making them water even more. You stop running after a few minutes, in the middle of the grounds. With everyone still having breakfast, there’s no one here yet, and you take that as an invitation to drop to your knees and start crying in earnest.

Why did she have to be so cruel?

You’re not a crier, you’re really not. An avid complainer, sure. A whiner at times. Definitely a sore loser. But you don’t particularly get any catharsis out of crying like so many other people do. When it comes to your mother, though...she’s just always known exactly where to strike her punches to turn you into a helpless little girl again. She can make you start blubbering so easily, and you hate that she can control your emotions even from so far away.

So you read the letter over and over again, until you’re mouthing the words on your lips that taste salty from the waterworks coating them. You’re trying to be quiet, but it’s beyond your control. You’re sobbing and wailing, and showing no sign of stopping.

There’s a quiet rustling beside you as someone walks up, and you shut your eyes tightly for a second. “M-Mil, I’m fine, I swear.”

“Are you?” Levi inquires, and you choke on a surprised sob, swallowing the embarrassing sound at the last second. Furiously wiping your eyes, you make to stand, but he crouches down instead.

He’s been in close proximity to you before, but never like this. Right now he’s near enough for you to reach out and touch his cheek if you so desired, but far enough that he’s not overwhelming you, and yet you can see the pores on his cheeks, the individual lashes lining those gorgeous grey eyes. You wipe your cheeks angrily. Great, just great, this incident will set you back several months on your plan. As though he was someone who needed to see you in such a vulnerable state.

The lieutenant outstretches his hand expectantly, and you’re not sure why you give him the letter so easily. You watch as his eyes scan the cruel words.

“I know,” you say before he can speak, “I know it’s not a big deal. But she’s my mother, I just - I just wanted her to - I thought she could at least be a little proud - “

You don’t realize another tear has rolled down your cheek until he brushes his thumb across your face, wiping it off easily. God, he must think you so weak. You wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to stop your private lessons right here and now.

But when you look at him, there’s no condescension on his face. There’s not even pity. You can’t place it. To an outsider he might look angry, but after knowing him for almost a year, you know that’s not it. It’s something strangely...protective. Fierce. You never expected him to look at you like that. You don’t know what to make of it.

“Stop crying,” he orders, not unkindly. It could be taken as a request. “Do you want to keep this letter?”

“I - I don’t know.”

It seems your body is more obedient than you are, because you stop tearing up, and when you wipe your face again, it remains dry.

“That’s it,” Levi murmurs, as his hands hold yours, warming them up. “Personally, I’d rip it to shreds. But that’s up to you.”

What’s going on? He’s being...well, he’s being nice. He’s never nice. He’s not always unpleasant, and he indulges in your silly banter, but he’s never been so...soft, especially not with you. And just why are you so easily warming up to him, going as far as to curl your fingers around his? Is it because his hands are warm against your cold ones, or is it...is it because…

“I want to keep it,” you blurt out, partly to keep yourself from the unwelcome thoughts inside your head.

He nods. and then gently grasps your arms, bringing both you and him to your feet. He places the letter in your hand, and then proceeds to brush the sides of your uniform off. It’s rough, but you’re emotional and this feels like the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you.

“Thanks,” you breathe. It’s hard to say, but you spit it out anyways. “I - I don’t know what to - thank you.”

Finally, Levi looks like himself again, because he rolls his eyes and mutters, “I just picked your lazy ass up, (L/N), don’t look so fucking grateful about it.”

You smile softly, but he looks away, obviously feeling awkward. He truly goes through moods like he’s trying on different outfits, the weirdo. You decide that just this once you can spare him - besides, you need to save face too. You turn around, intending to walk away.

The lieutenant grabs your hand at the last second. He grips it tightly, keeping your arm outstretched. If only your heart could stop lurching like this, it’s not as if he’s going to pull you in for a kiss - he’s not the type.

“(L/N).”

“Yes?”

“From now on, if you’re going to cry, you’re only going to cry because of me. Understood?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes, sir.”

He nods, satisfied, and lets you go.

____________________

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

In the past year, you’ve been to Lieutenant Levi’s office once, maybe twice or thrice. Either you had something to tell him (like how you couldn’t train due to severe emotional trauma, which was usually denied), or he led you there himself, to quickly grab something. How come he gets an office anyway? You’re pretty sure one has to be a captain or section commander to get their own space, and Levi is neither. You suppose being humanity’s strongest comes with its own benefits, even if it is an unofficial title. He gets to enjoy the finer things in life. Lucky him.

Anyways, you hadn’t planned on showing up here after hours, and certainly not with a steaming cup of tea in your hands.

Swallowing every bit of your pride, you knock on the door. “Lieutenant?”

No answer. You knock again.

And again.

It’s right as your knocks get just a touch louder that you hear him groan, “I’m coming, just hold on a second.”

When Levi opens the door, you take the quickest second to note that he looks how he did the day he walked you home, dressed in casual clothing. Realistically you know that no one stays in their uniform all day, but it’s still jarring to see him out of it. Someone might mistake him as approachable, although that ridiculous notion would quickly evaporate when they got a good look at his face.

He gives you a quick annoyed lookover, clearly waiting to hear your reason for disturbing him at this time.

“Chamomile,” you say with a grin, thrusting it forward, “Helps you sleep.”

He gives you a long, deadpan look.

“Who asked you to make this?”

“No one asked me.” You let out a puff of air to blow the loose strands of hair that have fallen out from your bun into your eyes. “I’m being nice. As thanks for...you know. Just take it.”

Levi doesn’t take it, but he does turn and go back into his office without closing the door, so you take the invitation and slip in, shutting it behind you. He slips into the chair behind his desk and you make yourself comfortable in the one in the front. There’s important looking documents all over, but there’s an order to them - a method to his madness. There’s not a single pen out of place. Of course, this is your obsessive compulsive midget who organized it, so you can’t expect anything else.

You slide the cup across the desk, where there’s another cup of tea already half empty. Oops, you’ve accidentally fueled his caffeine addiction. “That doesn’t look like chamomile.”

“It’s not. Just regular black tea.”

“Won’t that keep you up even more?”

“That’s the idea,” he says calmly, relaxed and leaning back.

“Wow, you’re a proud insomniac.” You shake your head in a disappointed manner. “If it were me, I’d at least try to sleep.”

Levi gives you a little glare, then pushes aside the paper he was working on to pick up your gift. He peers at it, looking a bit tired all of a sudden. It’s as though the day or the month or the entire year is catching up with him, and his eyes flicker to your eager face before he lets out a long sigh, raises the cup and brings it to his mouth.

Almost immediately he gags, slamming it down as his face scrunches up in disgust. “What the fuck, (L/N)? This is shit!”

Well, excuse you. You’re not a professional tea sommelier, and this isn’t some dainty cafe.

Still, you wince, crossing your arms and curling back into the chair. “Sorry. I’ve never actually made tea before. I’m not a fan.”

“Let me guess,” Levi says in a scathing tone as though you just admitted to cold-blooded murder, “you drink coffee.”

What an ignorant thing to assume.

“I drink milk, I’ll have you know.” You snap this at him, only realizing a second later that it’s not really something to boast about so proudly.

Something he clearly realizes as well, because he’s fighting back a smile and failing pretty miserably. “You drink milk.”

Well, there’s no taking it back now. “Yes.”

“Milk.”

“It makes your bones grow strong, okay?”

He laughs at you, leaning back in his seat. “Of course it does.”

“Don’t make fun of me, it does!”

You bite down the comment that comes to mind, which is that he must not have drank much milk otherwise he’d probably be taller. You’re here to be nice, you remind yourself, even if he’s being his usual infuriating self. There’s lots of nice things you can do, like...like…

Oh my gosh, are you the mean one in this relationship? No, that’s impossible.

“Looks like you have a lot of work,” you say, gesturing to the piles of paper on his desk. “Want some help?”

Levi raises a brow at you, as though to ask you how much help you possibly think you could be. That’s fucking rude. “No, I wouldn't want to waste your strong bones on some boring paperwork.”

It’s your turn to glare. Maybe focusing on his totally wrong opinions about your choice in beverage will help you ignore the fact that the two of you are sitting, dare you say, cozily, in his office. He’s not kicking you out, he’s indulging you in conversation, and he’s even taking another sip from the supposedly terrible cup of tea you made for him. Sure, he grimaces after drinking it, but he’s not throwing it out. That’s...something.

Your relationship with the lieutenant is quickly becoming something dangerous. You’re enjoying his company a little too much lately. You’re thrilling in his laughter too often, you’re drowning in his eyes an unhealthy amount. It could be chalked up to the fact that you’ve just grown accustomed to him, since you see him so often, but you know that’s not it. The more likely explanation is that you just have such low expectations for him that the second he shows basic human decency, you mistake your surprise for some newfound affection for the man. You want that to be the explanation, at least. The alternative is too awful to think about.

“So,” he begins, and you think you’re about to be kicked out until he says, “shitty mom. What’s that about?”

You sigh. That’s about the only conversation topic you don’t want to breach, but you suppose it can’t be avoided. “Typical rich girl problems. She wants to use me for her own purposes, so she’s not happy I got up and abandoned her. Plus, Dad died outside the walls, and she’s not really a fan of me following in his footsteps.” You feel comfortable telling him this much.

Levi looks thoughtful. “Do you plan to die out there?” He’s not fazed by your blunt attitude at all, which is kind of refreshing, actually.

But the question is still...well, how do you answer that? How do you answer it without disappointing him? And why does it matter if you disappoint him? You don’t have the answer to any of these questions, so you only shrug and avert your eyes, letting them drop down the floor. Your goals are your own, and he doesn’t need to know them. He doesn’t pressure you, only hums in understanding.

“I’ve really never had a cup of tea this bad.”

You smile, grateful for the change of topic. “No one’s forcing you to drink it. Lieutenant.”

“Insolent brat, you go a whole conversation and then add the title like you’re doing me some kind of fucking favor.” He’s good at avoiding the topic too. Your eyes light up, and you lean forward.

“Pardon me, sir. Lieutenant Levi. Your grace. My prince charming. The duke of destruction. My deepest apologies.”

“Not forgiven.” He smirks, thoroughly entertained. “Try harder.”

“Make me.” The response slips naturally through your lips, inviting and seductive.

Oh for the love of Rose, you think to yourself, please shut the fuck up. It’s like the second you resolve to keep things neutral with him, he sets something up so well that you have to say something borderline flirtatious. It’s just too easy with him. You lose all semblance of self control, and always end up saying something stupid.

“Should I?” Levi muses, a gleam in his eyes now. “Your mother did suggest that you marry me. Maybe I should take her up on that.” He leans forward with a cruel smile, as if the idea is perfectly enticing to him. “Would you finally be a good girl and listen to me then, (L/N)?”

You freeze, mouth falling open. You had really, truly forgotten that your witch of a mother had included that in her oh-so loving letter, and that he’d read it. Holy hells, the universe wouldn’t be satisfied until the man in front of you had humiliated you in every way, shape and form. And this right here, this is exactly the fucking problem. He never stops you when you unintentionally flirt with him - most of the time he ignores it, and other times he encourages you and you daresay he flirts back. To mess with you, of course, none of this is genuine, but it makes the butterflies in your stomach freak out either way.

“Probably not, sir,” you force out when you find your voice, “I’m actually not looking to get married at all, so if someone did make a wife out of me, I’d fight them tooth and nail.”

He snorts. “Of course you would. Have to make use of those strong bones somehow, don’t you?” This fucking midget, he somehow musters up the audacity to leave you flustered and then moves on and pretends like nothing happened. What an asshole.

“Oh my God,” you groan, “leave me and my milk alone, caffeine addict. Seriously, I know it’s bad out there, but it can’t possibly be bad enough for you to act like such a hardass all the time.”

Levi pauses, the sharp retort that he was surely about to fire dying on his lips. There’s a brief flash of sadness in his eyes, and you bite your lip. Fuck, maybe you’re the one who crossed the line this time. You have a quick apology ready to go. but he speaks before you get the chance.

“For your information,” he says coolly, “I’ve always been like this.”

Well, that’s interesting. He’s not wartorn, just a grump? No one is just negative all the time for no reason, they have to have been screwed over by life somehow. You can’t take his claim at face value, you just have to do some more digging.

“And why is that? Rough childhood?” You snap your fingers, invested in this new guessing game. “Orphaned as a baby. Cast aside by a sibling.” Your eyes sparkle mischievously as you grin. “Abandoned at the altar by your long time lover. She left you for your cousin!”

“It’s past your bedtime,” Levi says, standing up, “lovely of you to drop by, but you better get going.”

The cup that you gave him is now empty.

“Injury. Business deal went wrong.” He pulls you up by your arms, ignoring your scientific hypotheses. “Your favorite pet died. Ooh, I know, the company your father left you in charge of went bankrupt! Wait wait wait, Levi!” He’s pushed you out of the room and has a hand on the door, but before he can close it, you place your palm against his chest, looking at him very seriously.

“Is it the altar one?”

“Why do you need to know?” he asks, seizing your wrist to take it off.

See, this is what you mean by setting you up perfectly. It’s his fault, all his fault. “If my betrothed has a scandalous past, I think I have a right to that information.”

Levi shoves you out and slams the door shut, leaving you beaming as you begin to jog to your dorms. That’s another point for you, and now that you’ve paid him back for comforting you earlier the two of you are even, and you can return to planning for the battle that he has no idea he’s participating in. The stars shine brightly that night, and you sleep easy.

____________________

“Look, they’re back!”

Everyone ignores Grumman’s instructions to stay right where they are, an action they’ll probably pay for in blood, sweat and tears later. The Scouts are returning from their latest expedition, finally. Everyone around the base is always tense when they leave, and now people can rest easy knowing that the next one won’t be for a few months. There’s apprehension in the air - as of right now, no one knows who made it back and who wasn’t so fortunate. You feel a twinge of guilt at the relief that you know the only person is the Survey Corp that you care for know is the most likely to have survived.

Sure enough, there he is next to Captain Erwin, looking weary as he gets off his horse. You’ve pushed forward to the front of the crowd of cadets, all scanning the crowd. You find yourself sandwiched between Ricky, whose long legs make it easy for him to keep up with you, and Petra, who is sighing with a dreamy smile on her face. You follow her gaze, confused.

“What, one of them bring back some food?” You crane your neck to figure out what she’s looking so lovingly at.

“No.” Petra points discreetly, and you follow her finger. “It’s just, he’s rather handsome, isn’t he?”

“Who, Erwin Smith? I mean, I guess, but he’s not really my -”

“No, (F/N).” She shakes her head fondly. “Lieutenant Levi. Don’t you think he’s extremely good-looking?”

Next to you, Ricky barks out a laugh, and you elbow him as you utter with the grace of someone who hasn’t been fantasizing about Levi’s eyes since the moment you met him, “No, not really. You can do better, Petra, trust me.”

A soldier rides in late, his face panicked and sweat trickling down his face.

“Oh, come on, I know the two of you have your differences, but even you have to admit that -”

One second, you’re chattering with Petra and wrestling Ricky with one arm as he grinds your foot against his.

The next second, your ears are ringing with the words that the soldier screams as loud as he can.

“The titans have broken the outer wall! They’ve gotten into Shiganshina!”

In a single moment, everything you know and hold dear changes.

All at once people are shouting, screaming at the poor soldier who delivered the news to explain. The titans have gotten into Shiganshina? How could they have? Is he out of his mind? Who sent him? How many drinks has he had? What does he mean, they’ve broken the outer wall? It’s a wall, it can’t just be broken, so what does he mean? What is he talking about?

It takes you a minute to notice Ricky has completely frozen next to you. His hands are trembling, and he’s mumbling to himself and shaking his head, as though this is a nightmare and he just needs a good pinch to wake up.

“My - my mom and dad, and my sisters,” he’s saying. “They’re not...they can’t fight titans, they’re not soldiers. They need...need help…”

With a terrifying realization, you remember that he’s from Shiganshina. You’re grabbing his arm to steady him, words of reassurance getting stuck in your throat. You don’t know what to say - you can barely control the consuming fear growing inside you, let alone soothe his.

In the next few seconds, Commander Shadis has learned everything he’s going to learn from the messenger, and he lets out a scream you will remember for the rest of your life. The order that’s delivered to you on humanity’s darkest day is simple.

“All Survey Corps members will refill their gas and restock their blades immediately! I want you all back on horseback in five minutes, you hear me? We are riding back to Shiganshina right now! All cadets and other personnel at this base are to gather the rest of the horses and get behind Wall Rose to assist the soldiers there with the refugees! Is that understood?”

He’s met with the chilling cries of at least a hundred people shouting, “Yes, sir!”

Your voice was not among the people who answered. As people run past you to prepare, you run forward, because suddenly you’re scared. Suddenly you’re not so sure that he’ll come back. And you can battle with yourself all you want later, all that’s important to you right now is getting to him. Even as you see tearstained faces pass by, you keep running, because you have to catch him before he goes, you have to -

You catch up to him right before he disappears. Steely grey eyes meet yours as people rush past you, no one sparing even a second glance to the two of you.

For a second, he’s surprised. Then he turns cold, and hard, and you know that many people are about to die. And he’s going to have to witness every. Last. One.

“Is there someone in Shiganshina you need me to look out for?” Levi murmurs, with all the softness of someone who might be riding out to his death.

No, you want to scream. Ricky’s family, maybe, but you don’t even know what they look like, and he’s going to have to worry about saving enough people without you placing an extra burden on his shoulders. No, it’s nothing like that, you just want him to...you need him to...

“Be careful,” you manage to get out in a foolish, rushed request, “please be careful.”

Shock makes its way to his features, as though he thinks it’s out of this world for someone to ask him to stay alive for his own sake. Your heart clenches, but you’re not leaving until he promises you he’s going to come back.

“Levi!” Captain Erwin calls. You don’t have any time left.

Even before he speaks, you know that he’s not going to make you the stupid promise you were hoping for. He’s not flowery, and certainly not one to feed you bullshit. No, he’s real, the realest person you’ve ever known, and his answer is going to be as authentic as he is.

“I’ll do my best.” Levi pulls away from you. “You be careful too, (L/N).”

With that, he breaks away from you and is lost in the crowd.

You don’t even realize you had been holding onto him until your hand is left feeling bare, reaching for him in an endless sea of soldiers storming to their doom.

ohhhhhh, i’ve been waiting for this for a long time. surprise, things are happening!

mommy dearest is rather harsh, isn’t she? reader’s no sweetheart herself, but damn.

yes, there’s a slap on titan reference in there.

poor carla is getting eaten right about now, and reader is here having a moment. sigh.

comment and let me know what you think!

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #valkyrie stories

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paellaplease · 4 years

Note

HAII!! if it hasnt been done yet, could you do revali x reader with basorexia? maybe reader really wants to give him a kiss but she really cant since,, yknow she has lips and he has a fuckin beak so she just decides to give him a lil smooch on the cheek? idk that was just an idea i had in mind, u dont have to write it!

22. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss.

pairing: revali x reader summary: revali spirits you away to enjoy the new years eve festivities.

In the darkness of your room, you awoke to the sound of a soft tapping on your window. Twisting in the mess of blankets and pillows, you pushed aside the papers and textbooks that had accumulated at the foot of the bed, noticing only then that the candle at your desk had long since extinguished.

Head pounding, you rubbed at your tired eyes, feeling heavy. How long had you been asleep?

The tapping grew more insistent, forcing you to get up. Grumbling, you allowed yourself a second to stretch, ignoring how your room felt like water sloshing in a glass.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on!" You said, hobbling to the window. Brushing the mess of hair from your eyes, you pulled the curtains away and roughly pushed it open.

The culprit hovered outside, eyes bright and smug. Revali looked very much at home though he was floating at a dizzying distance away from the ground. In the sleepy haze, he looked like a painting of some myth you had read before, with the late night sky as his backdrop and the outline of your window as his frame.

"Took you long enough."

"Apologies. I thought some tree branches were hitting the glass."

The Rito made a show of turning in the air. "Funny, I don't see any nearby trees."

"I know," you sighed, disappointed.

Revali rolled his eyes and poked his head through the window, feathers brushing past your cheek as he ignored your personal space in favour of scoping out your room. The stiff turn of his neck as he looked around reminded you of the curious and confused little birds that landed on the sill from time to time.

"Quite a dreary home you have here." Gesturing to the overall darkness, he pointed to your stack of scattered papers. "You shouldn't study without proper lighting, it's bad for your eyes."

"I was asleep."

"Why, I'm surprised. And here I thought you were one of the festive many who choose to stay awake at an ungodly hour in order to count down the remaining seconds of the year."

"Well," you shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Not like it's anything special. New year, same shit. What difference would a countdown do?"

Biting down on your tongue, you stopped yourself from saying anymore. The cold breeze sifted past the light shirt you were wearing, making you shiver.

He was right, normally you were one of those people who stayed up, excitedly watching the hands of the clocktower tick til they reached midnight. You enjoyed the energy of being in a collective crowd, waiting with bated breath for the first inhale and exhale you would take into the brand new year.

The final month on the Hylian calendar brought a sense of relief and a hope for new beginnings. Usually today of all days you were at your happiest, jumping at the prospect of celebrating along with the rest of the kingdom and yet…

That sinking weight clawed at your chest again, forcing you to clamp down on it once more.

You grimaced. There it was; that bitter feeling. Hylia. How annoying. It twisted in your brain like an angry snake, pulling down your mood and enthusiasm along with it.

Last year you wanted to cheer and dance until the morning light. Now all you felt like was staring at the wall. Or falling asleep.

You blinked, turning back to the window to see Revali patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling your face warm, you hustled your brain to get a move on. A coherent thought would be great right about…now!

"Hey have you ever wondered why they don't grow trees on this side of the castle? It's not fair the more expensive quarters get all the pretty greenery. I mean, non-noble guests still need that sweet oxygen everyone keeps raving about, you get me?" Shut up brain, that's enough. I said a coherent thought. C o h e r e n t.

Stars in his wings, Revali shook his head but answered anyway. "I agree, it's hardly fair. Also go change into something warm, we need to get you outside."

"What? Why?"

Something in the Rito's expression clued you in to the fact that he wasn't in the mood to play stupid. You've been sitting in the dark for the past few days and it didn't take a private investigator to know it was playing tricks with your head. "Fine, but when I say we go back--we go back, got it?"

He huffed, turning around to give you some privacy. "I promise on my honour."

The brightly lit lanterns of the town square made you squint as you shuffled closer to your guide, the sound of the city loud in your ears.

Though less prominent, the twisting feeling in your gut continued, making you more hyper-alert than usual to the world around you. Adjusting the sleeves of your coat, you followed Revali past the streets, the Rito expertly navigating through the sea of people.

Somewhere along the way he had taken your hand, and you told yourself it was a good way for you both to stick together. Wouldn't want you getting lost and spending the final minutes of the year playing an elaborate game of hide and seek after all. He was a great friend like that. Nevermind that everytime you would hold his wing a little tighter to remind yourself that he was there, he would always squeeze back.

You needed a distraction.

Just focus on everything that's not him.

The night was alive with the sound of music. It didn't matter if you partied with an alcoholic drink in hand, or a glass of milk, everyone in Hyrule was filled with an addictive buzz that came with an event that only happened once a year. Vendors with bright smiles called out from their stalls, the smell of freshly baked sweets or the sizzle of a barbecue beckoning you to take a closer look. To your left, a group of friends raised their hands in the air, loudly welcoming a Goron that had turned up late but regardless had finally arrived.

The archer followed your line of sight, guessing the question bouncing in your head. "Daruk is in Eldin, probably rattling Death Mountain with that story again about the Moblin camp and the barrel of explosives."

"I love that story."

"Of course you would."

"Sorry about your feathers though."

"Whatever, they grew back."

"How about the one's on your--"

"Anyway," he interjected quickly, playfully nudging you to the side and glowering at your laughter. "We've been told to 'take a break'. The other Champions have chosen to spend this day with their families and loved ones. We are planning to regroup and continue preparations in the days following."

"How about you?"

"I already said it."

Your cheeks coloured at the implications of his words, mind replaying the previous sentence. Families and loved ones. Families and loved ones. He didn't even hesitate. You both were not related. So that left you with...

"Woah!" Digging your heels into the dirt, you abruptly paused your brisk walk and saved yourself from colliding with the archer's back.

Stopping at one of the stalls, Revali held two fingers up. You glanced up at him questioningly but he refused to give anything away, expression relaxed. The vendor returned quickly, the Rito thanking them quietly and placing the payment on the bright yellow table cloth along with a large tip in their jar.

He turned around, dropping a square shaped pastry into your hands. It was some kind of rice cake, with a fluffy exterior and a golden baked surface that smelled of butter and felt warm like the sun.

Taking a bite, you smiled at the hints of coconut that were hidden in its sweet flavour. The sticky treat was familiar somehow. "Is this so luck sticks to you in the new year?"

Revali scoffed, though failed to hide his own smile behind the cake held in his wing. "You said the same thing when we first met. You need new material."

"Says the baron of bird puns."

"I am the king." He punctuated the statement by biting into his own rice cake. Offering his wing, he gently took your hand once more, turning back to step again into the busy promenade.

Following him, you noticed that the crowds ever so slowly began to thin. A lantern lit hill was coming up. The grassy expanse was dotted with a few people, though it was blessingly not as populous as the town square. "I should be the one that's surprised. Thought you hated crowds unless their attentions were all on you."

"It's tolerable so long as I am with good company."

The both of you walked up the hill with an unspoken agreement to make it to the top. Taking a seat on the grass, you allowed yourself to breathe, chest heaving from the small burst of exercise after days of being sedentary.

The twinkling lights of Castle Town stretched out before you. Gazing at it, you could imagine all the untold stories hidden in the glowing little pockets of the alleys and in the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Funny how in a city so full of people, one can feel so alone.

Revali was the first to speak, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think I can understand now. Looking at it from this distance, it really can feel like nothing much has changed."

You continued to stare at the lights, trying to focus on a certain string in an attempt to ground yourself. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like though the world continues to spin, I'm remaining completely still. Just stagnant."

Frowning, you ran your hands through the grass, feeling the dirt shift under your fingers. You could feel your frustrations building, bubbling up to the surface with no way of dragging them back down.

"And the challenges just get worse every year. How am I going to face those old problems and these new ones if I'm still the same lost person I was back then?"

Your voice echoed at the last sentence, making you hide your head in embarrassment. That was loud.

Some strangers relaxing on the hill turned around to flash you an annoyed glare, before quickly returning to their picnics after spotting the Great Eagle Bow on your friend's back.

"I'm so sorry." You wanted more than anything then to dig a hole and hibernate preferrably for the next hundred years or so. "I'm yelling, that isn't like me. I'm so so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about. You needed to say it." He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. There was a serious element to it that made it a little hard to breathe. "There is one part of that I don't agree with, however."

"What is it?"

"That entire section about you, how did you put it, stagnanting." He twisted a wing in the air, thinking on his words before pointing a feather directly at your face. "You're fully capable of enacting the change you want to see in yourself."

You felt a little dizzy now. But another kind of dizzy, one very different from the vertigo you felt waking up in the darkness of your room.

"And who said you were exactly the same as you were back then? You've changed. In a good way. You're stronger and more capable of things I'm sure the person you were two years ago or even less couldn't even fathom doing."

Turning to face you, Revali gave you his full attention, compelling you to do the same as the cadence of his speech joined the steady rhythm of your own beating heart. From the back of your mind, you could barely register the sound of people gathering together, their voices floating into the cold night air.

'Ten!'

"It's difficult to see your own progress from a distance."

'Nine!'

"So take my advice and start looking at yourself up close for once."

'Eight!'

He had that expression on his face, one that said he was thinking too hard about something. It was like watching him try to pull the planets together with just a piece of string. His brows were furrowed so deep that your fingers wished to run over his feathers and smoothe the worried creases.

'Seven!'

You slowly reached out to him, giving him enough time to back away. Revali stilled as your hands traced up the nape of his neck, leaning in as his pulse thrummed underneath the soft pads of your fingertips.

'Six!'

He opened his beak the moment you reached his face. You paused, half expecting him to tell you to let go and pretend like it never happened.

Instead, he called out your name.

'Five!'

He said your name again, though quieter now. It was enough to tug at the invisible force drawing you two together. Enough so that the polite distance nervously enforced by the both of you gradually began to dissipate, trailing away like a ribbon of smoke as you both leaned in closer.

'Four!'

"May I--," He cleared his throat, eyes darting away for a second before they were back on you again. Bright green in the lantern light. Emeralds in the desert sand.

'Three!'

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

'Two!'

"Your way or mine?" You couldn't help but joke. Revali smiled, exhaling a soft joyful laugh before pressing his forehead to yours.

'One!'

'Happy New Year!'

An earth-shaking boom rattled your ears, but all you could think of in that moment was Revali and the feel of his feathers against your skin; the utter elation of being so close to someone you deeply cared for and that cared just as deeply for you.

In the dazzling light you lifted your head from his, both your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hands moving, you gently angled his face with a steady hand, feeling then the soft, butterfly light brush of his wings on your waist.

Closing your eyes again, you leaned in to press your lips against his beak, the blush on your face warmer than any fever or furnace. The Rito's soft sigh was barely audible as you trailed your kisses upwards, stopping at the red circle on his cheek.

Revali laughed again as you turned his face to press a kiss to the identical red mark on the other side. "You're very thorough."

"You deserve it." You beamed. "And this is just the beginning, just you wait at the end of the countdown I'll--"

"Actually my dear," he grinned, pointing to the sky.

"Huh?"

Above you were the vibrant colours of the firework display. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but a confirmation that you were definitely minutes in to the new year.

"Oh," you said, before shaking your head with a smile. "It's fine, we got 12 more months to prepare ourselves for the next one."

Revali nodded, pulling you closer so he could press your foreheads together again.

"Indeed," he grinned. "Now will you finish your sentence? What exactly were you going to do at the end of the countdown?"

fin.

#revali x reader #revali #botw #revali botw #prompt fic #more taggs later #i wrote this entirely on my phone so apologies for any errors #been thinking about this for a long time #also very late but happy new years #paella writes

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hualianff · 3 years

Text

Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down.

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL.

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.”

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain.

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off.

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple.

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake.

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together.

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it.

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first.

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation.

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation.

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part.

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him.

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well.

《III》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #HP AU #cerdrabbles #TBC #Banyue is menace #she and HC are close though #XL simps club #no I still don’t support JKR

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marvelgiggles · 4 years

Text

Learning to Be Loved

Chapter 4

This is a TICKLE SERIES!!! If you aren’t interested please keep scrolling.

You could not believe what you just heard.

JARVIS had alerted you that you had to go to the living room and when you did you saw everyone sitting there. You picked up some tension in the room and your brain immediately went to you doing something wrong and now you were going to get kicked back out on the streets.

You nervously sat down no the couch in a tense position, Bucky noticed it and wrapped you in a hug helping you nerves slightly.

“Okay, Y/N we have some news to tell you.” Tony said seriously making your nerves spike up again.

“There is a mission we all have to go on for a couple days.” Steve informed you. Wait all of them? Who was going to keep you company, Peter was gone on a school trip so you were going to be all by yourself in this huge compound you now called home.

“We’re sorry Y/N but we just found a few hours ago.” Bucky whispered in your ear causing you to giggle a little bit. “Are your ears ticklish too?” Bucky whispered again and then blew in your ear causing you to squeal. Thankfully he didn’t continue because you weren’t really in the mood to be tickled so he just snuggled you closer.

“So we decided to spend the entire day unplugged and as a family. So what do you want to do Y/N?” Nat asked you putting you on the spot. You didn’t want to pick something someone didn’t want to do.

“Nothing you pick is going to upset anyone.” Bucky assured you rubbing you arm up and down, but you were still to nervous to say anything in fear of upsetting someone else.

“Wanna have a water balloon fight?” Tony says hoping to get you to agree to something someone else picked and plus New York was going through a little heat wave in the beginning of September. You smiled and nodded your head. “Go get changed then.” You bolted off the couch clearly excited to play you changed into a swimsuit but changed into a larger t-shirt to cover your swimsuit.

Once you stepped out into the yard you were quickly splashed with a water balloon hitting you in the shoulder. You screamed not expecting to get hit that quickly, also understanding that the Avengers didn’t show any type of mercy when it came to games like this. Although you’ve learned the Avengers as a group were really competitive.

You heard what could only be described as a battle cry and suddenly Steve was in front of you, like a shield and wrapped an arm around your waist and picked you up. “No I must protect Y/N at all costs.” You giggled at his childishness. The other thing you loved about living here was how playful everyone could be. They knew when to be serious but more often than not it was super light hearted and playful around the compound.

Steve carried you to safety and handed you some water balloons. “Give ‘em hell Y/N.” He smirked and then ran off to drench people with water. You saw Nat run by away from Clint and you went to toss a water balloon at her, thankfully you hit right on the mark and she made eye contact with you. You squealed and took off running from her, which then lead you getting hit by another water balloon from Tony.

This fight was becoming an epic battle and you were getting a little tired from all the running around and from throwing all the balloons. Then you had a genius idea to probably win the entire war, you had to be sneaky though otherwise you didn’t think this plan was going to work. You made your way to the side of the compound with the water hose, you quietly unraveled it and turned the crank the knob and aimed.

Everyone screamed as you soaked them all with water from the hose, you laughed at their reaction and you continued to spray the hose back and forth making sure that you got everyone. You noticed you didn’t see Steve when suddenly you were wrapped up in a bear hug, you screamed from the surprise and from the coldness from him being soaking wet with water. “You little cheater and to think I helped you.”

Then you saw Bucky slowly walk toward you with an evil grin on his face. You knew what was coming and tried to get out of Steve’s arms but you stood no chance. “We don’t tolerate cheating here Y/N, you must be punished!” Bucky said as he quickly grabbed your foot in his metal arm and dragged his finger down your foot.

“Bucky!” You screamed then burst into laughter, you tried to kick your leg but Bucky held it firm and your other leg wasn’t going to help you. Then you felt Bucky grab one of your toes and you screamed louder and you were now trying to kick your other leg to make Bucky let go.

“You never run out of ticklish spots do you bug?” Bucky smiled at you at his nickname for you, he was the one who found out you liked to cuddle, gave you the nickname Cuddlebug but when everyone else started to call you that, he had to come up one that was just for him so he shortened it to bug. Once Bucky played with all of your toes on one foot, he grabbed your other one, “we can’t have the other feel left out can we?” Then started to tickle your toes on that foot causing the same reaction as before, finally he got to playing with your last toe.

You also started to feel the arms around you loosen but you were being gently put on the ground and you were looking up at Steve and Tony. “Even though we found a new spot there are some old good ones.” Steve smiled at you and went straight for your sides causing you to giggle sweetly and try to twist away, even though you really didn’t want to. One hand was poking rapidly up and down while the other was massaging your side. The two different sensations were incredibly ticklish.

“Yup still a good one.” Tony said, “But so is this one,” as he inserted his face in your neck and started to rub his beard around everywhere. You squealed louder and started to laugh more frantically.

“Tohohohony!” You cried trying to squish his head out of your head but that only opened up the other side for him to torment.

“Yes pipsqueak?” He whispered in your ear flowed by a small puff of air. You also choked on your salvia from the scream that worked it’s way through your throat, but it also didn’t help that Steve also moved his hands to the bottom of your rib cage.

“Now Y/N, Queens told me you have a pretty good ticklish spot on your ribs, wanna tell me where it is?” Steve teased you evilly but you were laughing to hard to answer him. “Okay, I just I’m going to have to find it myself.” He started to vibrate his fingers all over your rib cage frantically and quickly to try and find the spot he was talking about. When he finally found it you let a loud scream. “Oh, Queens was right this is fun.” Thankfully, Steve had some mercy on you not wanting to get too carried away and he let you breath for a little bit. But because Steve was still sitting above your waist you couldn’t see Sam sneak over.

You suddenly felt someone squeeze your knees, you screamed again, and let out your favorite deep laughter. “SAM!” You yelled before you were kicking your legs in every direction you could with Steve still hovering above you. It didn’t take long for your laughter to become silent causing Sam to stop.

“Sorry rugrat, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity.” He said with a quick kiss to your forehead. Tony let you go and Steve got up as well. You were still laying on the ground recovering from your tickles but then you felt two hands under your arms, which caused your Tickle Me Elmo giggles to come out but it was just Tony helping you stand back up.

“Pizza and a movie sound okay there pipsqueak.” Tony asked you and you were still giggling from early so you just nodded your head. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, “Go on and get cleaned up. We will be in the movie room when you are done.”

———————

After the chaotic water ballon fight and the torturous tickles you received you all went your respective ways to clean yourselves up before the pizza came. You all met up in the movie room, which you found both of the large sectional arranged in a U shape that all of you could fit on. You went to curl up in one of the corners but Tony sat next to you and pulled you away from the corner to curl you up in his arms with a kiss to your hair.

“Kay, pipsqueak what movie do you wanna watch?”

“Can we watch the Parent Trap?” You asked boldly yet still quietly, you then heard a loud groan from Steve, you instantly curled into yourself a little more and felt bad. Steve probably hated that movie and you had just picked that for him to sit through.

Tony instantly picked up on your change of mood. “Hey, don’t listen to Cap. He doesn’t know a good movie that isn’t from the 40’s.”

“No, it’s okay we can watch something else.” You said quietly picking at your fingernails, but you were a little disappointed because it was one of your favorite movies.

“How do I burn the toast. EVERY. TIME!” Steve yelled from the kitchen. You started to giggle at Steve’s constant ability to fail at doing something as making a piece of toast. He walked into the movie room and you giggled slightly as you saw his facial expression of annoyance. He gave you a look knowing that you were in trouble, you clung tighter to Tony in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to get you but you were easily snatched from Tony.

“Is my misery funny to you Y/N?” He whispered in your ear while starting to claw at your tummy. You began to giggle sweetly and weakly try to bat his hands away from your tummy. “And you think your funny trying to get away?” He put his nose into your neck and started rubbing it all around causing you to break out in laughter trying a little more desperately to get away.

Tony grabs you away from Steve. “Leave my baby alone.” Tony pulled you tight into his chest and wrapped his strong arms around you. Suddenly you felt fingers brush through your hair, that was something new but you loved it, it was so relaxing and comforting. Soon you were quickly asleep halfway through the movie cuddled up in Tony’s arms.

———————

“Y/N wake up.” Bucky gently shook your shoulder. You groaned not wanting to get up and face saying goodbye to everyone and being left alone. “Come on, we have a surprise for you downstairs.” You could hear the excitement in his voice but it still didn’t make you want to get up. “Fine, I’ll resort to other measures.” He quickly blew a raspberry in your neck you squeal and tried to bury yourself under your pillow and blankets.

Bucky laughed at your reaction and yanked your blankets off you causing you to whine at the sudden coldness. He quickly squeezed your ribs a little making you try to squirm away while giggling adorably according to Bucky. “Come on, we have a really good surprise for you downstairs.” He stopped tickling you pretty quickly but continued to sit by your side. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride downstairs.”

You smiled and quickly nodded. Bucky stood up and you launched yourself off your bed onto his back, he grunted at the sudden impact but started his way downstairs. “You pack a real punch Y/N, I’m gonna have to teach you how to fight soon.”

He took you to one of the rooms that supplied all of the Avengers gear and uniforms for the missions. Everyone was eagerly waiting for you, you could tell Tony was the most excited because he couldn’t stop moving.

“Sorry I’m a little late, someone didn’t want to get out of bed.” Bucky teased with squeezing the back of your thighs by your knees. You instantly belly laughed and started to kick both of your legs until he set you down on your feet.

“Y/N, I’m sorry that we have to all go on a mission the same weekend Peter’s on a school trip but we don’t want you to be alone so we got you some more company.” Tony explained. You looked around the room confused when you didn’t see anyone new in the group. “Go open my locker.” He smiled nodding in the right direction.

You were a little nervous it was some kind of practical joke but when you opened the locker a little ball of fluff attacked your lower legs. You squealed and dropped down to the floor letting your new companion lick at your face.

“You got me a puppy?” You were shocked and so happy because you always wanted a puppy.

Especially a golden retriever puppy.

“Well yeah, we can’t have you worrying about us day and night can we?” Steve chuckled at your reaction.

You were giggling as your new puppy kept licking your face and neck and it sort of tickled too further adding to your giggles.

“What are you going to name him?” Tony asked clearly happy at your reaction to the puppy.

You thought about it for a while as you got the puppy to stop licking your face. He was now cradled in your arms as you were giving him belly rubs. “Solider.”

“Perfect.” Steve exclaimed giving you a kiss on the head. “I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we really do have to get going.”

Everyone gave you a hug or kiss goodbye before making their way to the jet. Tony wanted to make sure that he was the last one to say goodbye. “See you later pipsqueak, everything little Solider needs is in the closet next to your room. If we can we are going to try FaceTime you at night but I can’t promise anything. I love you.” Tony said before he gave you a longing kiss on your forehead. You watched the QuinJet fly off into the distance but before you could get too lost in thought Solider let out a little yip.

“Okay boy, what should we do?” You set him on the ground and watch him clumsily try to make his way further into the house, having him would definitely keep you occupied until your family came back.

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missgirlnoname · 4 years

Text

I DO NOT SHARE WHAT IS MINE

Anakin Skywalker x Naive!Reader

WARNINGS: smutty?, rough Anakin, manipulation, masturbation, forced orgasm, daddy kink, choking kink, slightly young reader¡.

HEADS-UP: This is my first time writing anything remotely...inappropriate, per se. I am sorry if it’s not to great, but I’m trying my best. I feel so wrong for wanting to read let alone write fanfics like these, but I can’t help it! LORD FORGIVE ME

ANOTHER NOTE: I will say with complete honesty, that I have only watched the Star Wars films because I have an unhealthy obsession with Hayden Christensen. So some things I write may seem a little off and I’m sorry for that. Because I don’t have a full notion on everything Star Wars related, unless it’s Star Wars-anakin related.

(If you’d like to get to the “somewhat smutty” part of this story, then simply skip to where it says smut up ahead. This is quite long. I won’t judge you. 😏)

SUMMARY: (y/n) has a heated argument with her Jedi Master: Anakin skywalker, right before dinner time. Upset and emotionally drained, (y/n) leaves him, and heads to lunch on her own, meeting a friendly new padawan on the way. They take quite a liking to each other. Far to much a liking for anakin. He plans to show (y/n) just how much. Nobody gets in the way of anakin and what is his. Nobody.

(Y/N) POV:

“ Are you being serious right now!”

“Deadly.” He hissed.

“Until you learn how to properly yield that weapon in your belt; take my commands and respect me. You will not be accompanying me on any missions, is that understood!” Master skywalker, chided at you.

No response. You only glared intently at him, your fists trembling at your sides. Chest heaving eradically with a blind fury. You couldn’t believe this man!

“I said is that understood, young padawan!” He asked once more, his voice rising. Glaring right back at you with the same intensity.

You continued to stare at him defiantly.

This seemed to only further his anger, he narrowed his eyes as they darkended. You suddenly felt nervous. He began toward you from across the room in a quick fashion. Your heart began to race rapidly.

Would he hurt you? You thought.

No he-he wouldn’t...would he?

Not a moment before you could collect your thoughts, there he was. Right in front you. Towering over your small frame. You could feel the heat radiating off of him. So intense.

“Answer me now, (y/n).” He growled. You’d never made your master this angry. He growled at you like a ferocious beast. Now, all confidence once instilled, had quickly evaporated, you felt very small.

“I understand...” a whisper.

“I couldn’t quite hear you?” Master replied, with an eerie calm, for someone who seemed like they were too burst in a fiery rage only seconds ago. You looked down at the ground, defeated.

“I said I understand.” Loud and clear, he heard you.

But he needed to hear it again.

“I understand, who? (Y/n).” Master skywalker, asked once more. You then felt pressure beneath your chin. His thumb and forefinger gripped it gently, bringing your head upward to face his hard gaze.

Sighing, you finally said what he wanted to hear. How he wanted to hear it.

“Yes. I understand, master skywalker.” You replied gingerly.

A wide grin spread across his angelic face.

“That’s more like it. This little attitude of yours is only a faze, and I realize that. But there is point where it is expected and tolerable, and when it is you simply doing all you can to get on my nerves and defy me on everything I ask of you. I don’t tolerate such insolence little girl.”

As he said this, his grin had completely vanished, turning into a stoic expression. However, his eyes remained dark and dangerous, black as night.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid of him at this very moment. He’d feel it either way. But as scared as you were, that anger had slowly began to resurface. As you remembered everything he had said on your way back from a meeting with the council. Every harsh dig, every patronizing word. You glared at him once again, holding eye contact for a few more deafening seconds; then ripped out of his grasp, making your way out of the room. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your back as you walked away.

‘Asshole’

You knew he’d heard your thoughts. But you didn’t care.

...

You were heading towards the dining hall, still quite irritable over the dispute you and your master had only minutes ago. As you walked down the empty corridor, you suddenly felt like you were not alone. You turned to your right, then your left. But there was not a soul in sight. Simply, you let it roll of your shoulder. That is until you felt a large hand wrap around your your waist, while another clamped over your mouth.

Yank!

You felt yourself being pulled back by something or someone. All you could do was try to wriggle out of their grasp, your cries of help muffled by your captors large hand. Squealing and squirming against this unknown being. Unknown, that is, until a burst of hearty laughter erupted into the air. The hands that once held you, realeased you from their hold.

You whirled around, anger written all over your face. But as you looked at the stranger before you, it somehow seemed to fade away.

“Oh my stars! You should have seen *panting* you should have seen your face!” The stranger, a boy, possibly around your age; said through gasps.

After a few moments his laughter died down, and he composed himself. Standing straight, and adjusting himself, he then held his hand out toward you. As if expecting you to take it after he nearly gave you a heart attack.

“If that is the way you normally introduce yourself to someone, I’d hate to see how you excuse your self from a conversation.” You commented squinting at the young boy, while still debating on whether you’d shake his hand or not.

He smiled a soft smile. His eyes twinkled in the light. His fair skin quite flawless, and a fluffy nest of golden locks sat atop his head. He looked warm and inviting. Yet you still denied him the pleasure of knowing who you were. Seeing as you were still annoyed that he snatched you up and whisked you away, out of sight from others; to get you alone, as a way of saying ‘hello, who are you’

Huffing, you rolled your eyes, twisted right around, and attempted to walk away. Forgetting all about dinner, you just wanted to return to your quarters.

But of course, that wasn’t to happen. Nope not at all.

“Wait! Look, I’m sorry. I realize that was quite wrong of me to do. I had no right to grab you the way I did. Seeing as to you have no clue who I am, nor I you. But I’d like to get to know who you are.” The boy explained, frantically trying to catch up with you, as you were already halfway down the hall.

“My name is Roman. I’m master yoda’s new apprentice. I arrived here from tattooine not long ago.” The boy called Roman, continued on.

You on the other hand, went treading along quietly, not serving him a second glance.

“Please don’t hold any grudge against me, I’d really like to think I’d make at least one good friend here.” He pleaded.

Nothing.

You heard a defeated sigh, and footsteps beginning to drift away from yours. You couldn’t help but turn back the slightest, watching the disappointed boy walk away, slump shouldered. Taking a deep breath in, you let out a sigh, having no idea you were holding it in.

“It’s (y/n).” You finally said.

Roman turned back around, and a small smile slowly crept unto his face.

————————————

A FEW DAYS LATER...

(Time Skip yes, because I drag)

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered

“No, I completely agree with you, we shouldn’t be doing this.” Roman replied.

The two of you had snuck into a forbidden area of the Jedi temple. No one was allowed back there. However, the two of you had been doing this for a few days now. You’d both bring along snacks, blankets and pillows; just to lounge around. Away from responsibility, away from everyone.

But it wouldn’t be as great, if it wasn’t a challenge going back every time. What with many droids keeping guard of the place. Pulling little stunts, throwing objections, and creating foolish distractions to get by. And it’d worked each time.

You too had arrived to your “spot” but what you found was displeasing to say the least.

All of your snacks, knocked over and scattered around the floor. Your pillows were slashed right down the middle, with what could only have been a lightsaber. The little lights you had hung up on the ceiling where ripped away, swinging back and forth, the ends brushing against the ground. It was a complete mess. You looked over at Roman, who was just as nervous and as stunned as you were.

“Force, we are in so much-“

“Trouble? why yes you are.”

Your eyes widened as you felt your stomach drop. You knew exactly who’s voice that was. Fear had overtaken your body.

I’m really in for it now. You thought.

You have no idea. You heard him that chilling voice speak through the force.

Both You and Roman had slowly turned towards the direction in which, the voice you knew to well, had come from. There, in all his intense glory, stood Master skywalker. Your master. He stood towering over the two of you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, if you could cut the terrible tension with a knife, you certainly would.

hell.

You didn’t need a knife, your lightsaber would do just fine; anything to rid yourself of this moment. Master skywalker held a harsh gaze, intently staring directly at Roman. It seemed as if all his anger was directed only towards the poor boy. He continued this painfully one sided staring contest for what seemed like forever. Roman visibly trembling, doing everything he could to avoid meeting the furious dark ocean eyes, that bore holes into him. You could hear romans heavy breathing mixed with yours. You couldn’t handle the deafening silence in the room any longer. You looked directly at your master, and attempted to find the right words.

“Sir?” You quipped softly.

He ignored you, still staring at Roman. All his fury seemed to focus solely on the kid. He payed you know attention. You weren’t even their.

“Master, please look at me.” You tried for his attention once again. Still nothing.

“Master skywalker?”

Nothing.

“Please answer me.”

Nothing.

“This was not all his doing, I was an accomplice. I helped bring us here. I’m just as guilty as he is. And shall except my punishment accordingly.” You went on, hoping he’d look your way and hear you out.

Nothing.

“Master, I’m begging you. Please! Say something, anything. Curse at me, yell at me, tell me how much of an insubordinate childish brat I am. Something is better then your silence.” You pleaded, your voice going a bit hoarse.

Nothing.

You were just about ready to burst. You had enough. If you were childish, he was being as such, going along with this silent treatment.

“ANAKIN! ANSWER ME NOW! DO NOT IGNORE ME. YOUR ACTING LIKE A FOOLISH CHILD, FOR FORCE SAKE. I AM JUST AS RESPONCIBLE AS ROMAN FOR WHAT HAS GONE ON AROUND HERE. AND QUIT LOOKING AT HIM LIKE A MADMAN! YOU ACT AS IF WE HAVE COMMITED A TREASON. WE HAVE NOT! WE ONLY WANTED TO FIND A PLACE FOR US TO HANG OUT. IS THAT SO WRONG?

For the first time since we’ve all been here, he had taken his eyes off of Roman, and now looked over at you. The same amount of anger and intensity as he had with Roman, could not possibly compare with how he felt with you. You could see his eyes glaze over. But, with anger? I’m sure, but their was something else you couldn’t quite describe; as he stared you down. (GIF ABOVE)

“Leave..” he said, his voice must’ve dropped, because it seemed much deeper, much huskier than before.

Confusion was written all over both Your’s and Roman’s face. Leave? Just like that? After everything that has taken place. He’s just going to let us leave? You both look at each other, with equal skepticism. When a low chuckle breaks your thought process. You turn back toward Your Master. He looked at Roman once again with an icy glare, then slowly looked back at you.

“Oh? Did you think I meant you could leave?” He cooed mockingly at you.

“No-no-no! I meant him.” Master, added.

The boy stared bewilderedly at anakin. Still frozen in place, not really sure of what to do. Roman simply could not tell if he were serious or not. But you could.

“Leave now boy! or I’ll drag you out myself.” Master skywalker said, through gritted teeth. His rage quite clear now. Roman jumped slightly at his harsh tone. He turned toward you, seemingly asking you for permission without needing to say it out loud. You nodded. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. You smiled weakly as you watched him slowly walk out of the room, careful not to meet anakins firey gaze. He then proceeded to have the doors slam shut harshly and lock. Finally looking back at you.

“And you. You won’t be going anywhere, anytime soon.”

( SOMEWHAT SMUTTY AHEAD)

“I truly am sorry, Master skywalker. I-.”

“Oh you will be, I’m certain of it.” Anakin cut you off.

Within a matter of seconds, you felt your small body collide against a wall. You groaned at the contact. A searing pain worked its way up your spine. You attempted to move, but were stopped abruptly as a pair of strong hands gripped your shoulders. Slamming you against the wall a second time. You hissed at the terrible pain consuming your body. Your eyes were screwed shut, head lolling back and forth; as you waited for the pain to disappear.

“You really know how to piss me off, don’t you little girl?” Anakin sneered at you. His face inches away from yours. “Who do you think you are, huh? Going around with that boy. Disrespecting me in front of that boy! Not using my proper title?, no such right was given.” Anakin growled. You looked him in the eyes, shaking with fear. They had darkened tremendously, and had once again glazed over. With what? You still weren’t sure of. “I only did that to get you to pay attention to what I had to say.” You attempted to speak through quivering lips. “Well, you certainly have my attention now, don’t you?” He snidely replied; his face even closer than before. You could feel his minty hot breath brush against your face. You needed to get away from him, you attempted to break free, which in turn, had him grab hold of your wrists and pin them at your sides. “Please master, let-let go.” You stuttered. “No I don’t think I will, (y/n).” Replied anakin, with a nasty grin. He then dragged a long finger, sliding it down passed your cheek bone, ever so slowly. Until he placed it on your lower lip, rubbing it gently.

What is he doing? You thought.

A smirk spread across anakins glorious features. “You see my dear apprentice, you’ve been a very bad girl, such behavior must be dealt with. You constantly disobey your master. You must learn to hold me with the utmost respect. Right here, right now. You will follow my every order. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir-master skywalker.” You corrected yourself.

That devilish grin had reappeared unto anakin’s face. He enjoyed you like this. At his mercy, following his every order. The control he now possessed of you, was exhilarating. You continued to pant heavily, afraid to look him in the eyes once more. He had you under a magnifying glass, squirming. And he loved it.

“One more thing. You will not converse with that boy any longer, do you hear? He will not talk to you, he will not go anywhere near you. Is that understood.” He added, his voice cold and unfeeling. You looked up at him.

“What! But-“ No Buts.” He interrupted.

“You are mine and mine alone. I do not like to share (y/n).” He hissed, one of his hands coming to wrap around your neck, giving it a light squeeze. Your eyes widened. What’s going on? You thought. Anakin laughed, it was as beautiful a hearty laugh as Romans. But it was dark. Nasty. An “up to no good” kind of laugh.

“ these are mine” he rubbed your upper lip, then bottom lip softly. before planting a soft yet searing kiss upon them. Stunning you.

“These are mine.” His hand slid down passed your neck, stopping right at the top of your small, but firm breasts. Giving one a light squeeze, you squeal at the sudden touch. Anakin grinned at this. His hand continued its journey downward, running past your stomach, to your hips; reaching around to grab at your bottom, roughly squeezing it. You continued to stare dumbfoundedly at him. His dark eyes bore into your light ones. His grin had completely fallen into a serious expression, biting his lip, then releasing it slowly from between his teeth.

“this is fucking mine.” Growling, his hand released your ass, reached around the front and brought his hand to cup your mound. Panic set it in, breathing heavily, you managed to push your master away from you. You stumbled forward, a bit dazed and completely confused. You felt heat radiate off of your body, but it didn’t seem to be of anger. It seemed to come from your womanhood. The heat was pooling in your panties?

I-I don’t understand. Force, what is going on?!

“I’ll show you.”

You then felt anakin pull you roughly towards him again. Your back now flush against his lean, well built frame. You could feel his arm wrap around your chest; while the other held your hips, hard. You could feel his fingers digging harshly into you. Even through your robes, you felt his nails pierce your soft flesh. Wincing and whimpering. You wanted to go back to your room, you wanted him to leave you alone. Yet you didn’t want to lose the warmth his body brought to you.

“Please anakin. Leave me alone.” You pleaded softly.

You then felt a strange feeling. A very strange feeling, in your lower abdomen. You felt pressure, a pressure that made you feel good. It slowly stimulated you.

“What are you doing, ani-

Harder

A gasp elicited from your lips. Your hips bucked slightly at the feeling.

“That’s master to you, slut.” He hissed into your ear.

Slut?

Anakin’s deep throaty chuckle in your ear, vibrated along your body. The pressure building up much quicker than before; an odd sound left your lips.

Harder.

Faster.

Another sound, much louder then before, had your face flushing in embarrassment. Why does that keep happening?

“Because your enjoying this. Go on, moan for me baby.” Anakin, cooed. The pressure increased rapidly and you began feeling some sort of knot in your stomach. It tightened, and tightened. You thought something might be wrong with you.

“Master, s-stop, I-I- don’t feel right.” You whined, trying to free yourself once again. But the more you struggled, the more the odd sensation built up. You began squirming, doing everything you could to stop what ever was to happen.

“It’s alright, Come on baby girl. Cum. Cum for daddy.” Anakin growled once again.

“Wha- I- don-.” Your incoherent babble only seemed to fuel whatever had its hold on you further. You felt as if you were hyperventilating, your chest heaving up and down. Gasps and moans fell from your mouth at every second. You then felt another kind of pressure. Around your neck. Anakin had wrapped his hand around your throat.

Is he going to kill me?

another deep throaty chuckle.

After a few more seconds, your legs began to shake, your muscles all seemed to tighten. The pressure was unbearable.

“Cum for me, Angel. Daddy wants you to cum.” He whispered huskily into my ear, giving it a little nibble. His hand still wrapped around your throat, giving it a slightly harder squeeze. And that was it. You felt everything shatter within you. Vision a blur of white light. A sound so unflattering to your ears shot out of you.

“Fuck.” Anakin groaned. Did he enjoy that too?

Your breathing had slowly gone back to normal, beads of sweat glistened along your face. Then, you fell limp. Absolutely numb, weak as if your very life force had been sucked right out of you. Anakin laughed at this, while he ran his fingers through your hair, and planted a soft kiss to your temple.

“You did wonderfully, angel.” He complimented you. You couldn’t help but smile. As for what you did wonderfully, you still didn’t know.

...

A/N: oh my god! It was so long, I literally drag and I’m so sorry for that! Again, this isn’t written that well, I know. I don’t know to much about how to write “dirty” nor am I good at dirty talk. I literally stepped out of my comfort zone, adding in a few curse words 👏. But oh well. I hope you somewhat liked this. I really wanted to help feed the thirsty anakin community. 😂

#anakin skywalker #star wars #revenge of the sith #hayden christensen #young anakin #anakin smut #smutty #anakin x reader #omgpage #fyppage #daddy k!nk #choking #movies #naiveasf #tumblrgirl #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

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dreaminghour · 3 years

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Star Wars WLW Week Day 2

Fancy Dress Event! Leia and Amilyn sneak off from a New Republic gala to find a dark corner...

“Are you saying my dress is in bad taste?” Amilyn asked.

“You’re never in bad taste.” Leia laughed.

“Even when I wear our new enemy's colors from head to toe?”

“Toe?” Leia asked, and slipped out of Amilyn’s grasp to peer down at the shoe she peeked out of her gown. “Ah.” Leia leaned into Amilyn a little. “Well, the color looks very nice on you. You look like pale-pink flowers wrapped in red roses or… something.”

“Leia! That was almost romantic!” Amilyn gave her a little squeeze, and even in the dim blue light of the stars, she seemed to blush a little.

“What can I say.” Leia’s voice was like a whisper against her collarbone. “You inspire me.”

1774 words below the cut~

“Oh, thank goodness.”

Vice Admiral Holdo turned at the sound of a familiar voice. The sight of Leia wrapped in white silks was like something from an old family holo — if either of them had any of those left now.

“I knew as soon as I saw the hair match the drapery that it was you, Amilyn.”

“I think it’s ‘hair matches the drapes,’ General,” Amilyn said with a wink.

Leia pretended to swat at her.

“And Han?” Amilyn asked. She knew that Han did not like attending these swanning galas, self-congratulatory he called them, though he used cruder language. Amilyn saw them for what they were, shows of unity, appeals to the elite, fundraising.

These events were not his thing, they both knew that.

“It’s unlikely he’ll ever come to anything like this again,” Leia said, and there was something resigned there.

Amilyn thought she’d heard it before, the other times that Han had left for a while. This sounded different. She suspected she knew, having heard about the last few months with Luke and Ben… she could have asked, Leia would have told her, but this was supposedly a celebratory event and Amilyn had been drinking.

“More for us,” Amilyn said, passing a flute of sparkling wine to Leia.

Their toast was wordless, just the chime of glass against glass, and they both raised their glasses as they turned their back to the bar and surveyed the crowd milling around them.

Amilyn had always had a knack for patterns and seeing something more in the clouds and even the stars. She was a master navigator, but she was also an expert at seeing something beyond the facts. It wasn’t always worth mentioning, but it was usually interesting. And now, it wouldn’t take her expertise to see the way the crowd flowed in eddies which always dipped close to Leia, hopeful that she would pull them into her orbit, before gently moving on like leaves in a stream. Amilyn couldn’t sense the Force, or so she thought, but maybe all beings moved within its currents, regardless of whether they knew it was there.

Leia put her hand in Amilyn’s elbow.

“I hate these things. I’m glad the New Republic is feeling secure but…” Leia hesitated.

“Walk with me?” Amilyn asked, scoping out the nearest exit, curtained in dark blue velvet, hiding a cool, empty corridor beyond.

“Lead the way, dear,” Leia said.

Amilyn ducked her head slightly as she led Leia slowly across the floor, repeating some bit of news about the fleet which they’d already discussed, no serious security matter, but containing the right words so that people who were important, or wanted to feel important, knew they should leave the two women be.

“Bold move,” Leia said, as they passed from glittering ballroom into the fresh air of the arcade which surrounded their host’s mansion.

“What, stealing the belle of the ball?” Amilyn smiled, feeling the twinkle of wine, feeling the warmth of the woman beside her.

“No, the dress.” Leia placed her nearly full glass on one of the little candle-lit tables.

“What, is there something wrong?” Amilyn looked down at herself, spreading her arms, only seeing the narrow tuck of red fabric around her gangly legs, the way the cloth bunched on her hips and hung loose from her chest. She’d figured out as a young woman, over twenty years ago, that close-fitting but flexible was best for her. It was flattering enough, comfortable always, and allowed ease of movement — even at fancy dress events. She liked them better than Leia, but she tolerated them far better as well.

“No, your dress is lovely, you look lovely.” Leia reached up a hand to brush something off Amilyn’s shoulder, and then rested her hand there. “The color just reminded me…”

Amilyn knew immediately what she was talking about. “The upstarts on the edge of the galaxy?”

Leia pursed her lips.

“They’ve become emboldened recently,” Leia said. “I wish I knew why. Found another Force user, I suppose, corrupted him to dark ways…”

Amilyn cupped Leia’s cheek, tilting her face to look Amilyn in the eye. There was pain there, and Amilyn didn’t want someone so sweet to hurt anymore. She wanted her to smile.

“Are you saying my dress is in bad taste?” Amilyn asked.

“You’re never in bad taste.” Leia laughed.

“Even when I wear our new enemy's colors from head to toe?”

“Leia! That was almost romantic!” Amilyn gave her a little squeeze, and even in the dim blue light of the stars, she seemed to blush a little.

“What can I say.” Leia’s voice was like a whisper against her collarbone. “You inspire me.”

“Leia…” Amilyn felt a chill steal across her bare shoulders, where Leia had been about to lay her head, or just lean against her, she pulled slightly away.

“Will you kiss me, Amilyn?”

She hesitated, only because the bubbliness that had accompanied her tipsiness had suddenly been snatched away, and she wasn’t entirely certain she had heard correctly. Leia’s hand on her waist tightened somewhat, pulling them closer again.

“I know I don’t have much of a right to ask, but I’d really like to have something nice for even a moment, if you could—”

With a feather touch, Amilyn tipped Leia’s chin up, brushing her thumb just under Leia’s bottom lip.

“Anything you ask that I can give you, my princess,” she said. It was painful, to be sure, to reference something old and broken, but it was honest. Alderaan might have been long gone, but it was theirs, and Leia would always be hers, even as she was Leia’s. She lowered her head slowly, feeling the pull of fabric as Leia tugged on her dress, pushing herself up and closer. She inhaled the smell of spices, cinnamon and nutmeg, an afterthought of vanilla, and tasted something bright as Leia opened her mouth under her lips.

Leia clung to her, because of the two of them, Leia was definitely the stronger. Leia was soft in her arms, and Amilyn couldn’t help but cradle her close, wishing she could pick her up and—

Leia broke off their kiss, her hands on Amilyn’s waist, pushing her a bit. “Why don’t you… sit.”

She led Amilyn to a little bench, shadowed from the party and the starlight, where the scent of the garden and the stream could wash over them, and for a heart-tripping moment, Amilyn thought Leia was going to climb into her lap. But instead Leia sat beside her, and threaded her fingers into the loose curls at the nape of her neck, and pulled her down for another kiss.

Amilyn laughed, gently nipping at Leia’s bottom lip before pulling back slightly, and Leia chased after the taste. Knees knocking against one another, Amilyn’s hand skirted over the smooth fabrics of Leia’s gown to cup the side of her bum, lifting her up in as chaste a manner as she could, and Leia laughed as well.

“Oh, I see,” Leia only sounded reticent, lifting her skirt slightly in order to straddle Amilyn’s legs and sit on her lap. “Always trying to get your way.”

Leia didn’t kiss her again right away, instead brushing her thumbs over Amilyn’s cheeks, making her eyes flutter shut as she drank in the sensations. Leia’s fingers on her neck, their thighs pressed close, Leia’s breath mingling with her own.

“What did I ever do to deserve such kindness?” Leia asked.

Fiercely, and half-instinctively, Amilyn reached for Leia’s wrists before she could pull away.

“You’ve always been good.” She knew her voice sounded darker, but emotions were fighting her for control, and she wanted to make sure Leia heard this. “You do what’s right, and people— I see that.” Amilyn did let one of Leia’s hands slip away from her skin, in order to turn her head and kiss the palm.

Leia made a little moan, sounding almost regretful, and slipped her other hand back into Amilyn’s hair. Amilyn gasped a little as Leia tugged lightly, and then their sounds were smothered in another kiss. Amilyn ran her hands over the curve of her back, pulling her closer, Leia’s breasts pressing against her. Her breath shuddered as she realized how much she’d wanted this, to keep her close, as she wondered if this might be it, at last, when she could have more than she’d previously dreamed.

Leia’s hand pressed lightly against Amilyn’s collabone, just a few inches above her breast, and Amilyn was sure Leia could feel her heart fluttering wildly. She pulled back, both of them breathing heavily, and Leia just looked at her for a moment, eyes so dark, they seemed lost, unable to focus.

“Do I deserve you?” Leia asked.

Amilyn tried to understand what was going on, afraid to break the spell of the moment, where Leia was in her arms, where there was a spark of pleasure, yearning to be more. She searched in dark eyes, knowing that Leia was watching her closely.

“I’m not the one—” Amilyn broke off as the scuff of shoes breaking from the party sounded closer.

“General?”

Leia sighed, already beginning to slip away, and in a pang of desperation, Amilyn scooped her arms around Leia again, pressing her mouth briefly but wildly against Leia’s.

“Everything,” Amilyn said with a sigh. “You deserve everything you want. Anything I can give…”

Leia’s hands floated across Amilyn’s shoulders as she rose to stand.

“General Organa?”

The sound of that voice seemed to slowly move forward, the crisp click of shoes on the polished stone floor chasing away the heat of their embrace.

“Will you accompany me back inside?” Leia asked, suddenly unable to look Amilyn in the eye, busying herself with straightening her dress.

“Always,” Amilyn replied, slipping her hand inside Leia’s. “Anywhere.” She stood as well and leaned down to press a kiss to Leia’s forehead, and let Leia lean against her for one second more before the lights would shine on them again, and chase the last vestiges of intimacy away.

“For as long as you need me,” Amilyn said.

“Thank you.” Leia placed her hand back in the crook of Amilyn’s elbow, and they followed the attaché back into the room filled with light and laughter, and so much less beautiful than their shaded bower under the stars.

#star wars wlw week #starwarswlweek2021 #star wars #leia organa #amilyn holdo #AmiLyn #fanfiction #prompt fill

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imagineabrighterworld · 4 years

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Nothin’ On You // Sero x Shy!Reader

A/N: Kinda long! But I owe Sero for taking so long on finishing this! Hope you like it! ^^

The first time you meet is for a school project

In middle school he was the cool guy that got along with pretty much everyone. At first you would hide away, which was easy with a quirk like yours. You would turn translucent and mute according to your mood, so every time you tried to muster up the courage to talk to him when he passed you by in the halls, you would completely disappear. It was a game of chance to see who was paired with who when the fated project came up, but when you were paired with Sero you almost entirely disappeared off of the face of the earth. You begin to wonder if you could escape class without being noticed when he makes his way over and plops down in the seat next to you.

"Name's Hanta Sero, what's yours?"

Your face flushes, body turning translucent for a split second before you take his hand and shake it. "It's..." Your voice fails you. Of course it had to happen now. Your quirk just had to be a two-in-one kind of deal.

Lifting a finger, you scribble your name down on a loose piece of paper and offer it to him.

He looks at the scrap of paper with curiosity. “Cute name.” He looks back to you. “Is that your quirk? The..?” He motions to his body and mouth.

You nod sagely.

He beams. "Nice to meet you."

The tension in your shoulders lessen. Grabbing your textbook and one of your notebooks made for this type of situation, you write down several questions before pointing to the textbook pages.

He reads each message, surprisingly more patient with your quirk than others. Some expected you to push past it or get over your shyness, but he went with it. It made you feel.. valid. Like your quirk wasn't a burden.

“Sounds like we'll be having a few all nighters on this one, Mr. Takeshi expects waaay too much of us if he wants this done in a week.” Sero looks at you curiously. “What do you think? We could do it at one of those 24/7 cafes nearby.”

Feeling yourself relaxing, you realize you've returned to being opaque as you nod in agreement. "Sounds like a plan."

His smile brightens. "Hey, your voice is pretty cute too chica!"

This time you're glad you disappear from sight, hands covering your mouth as he laughs heartily.

The project was an odd success

After your initial shock and shyness of being paired up with Sero, you both were a rather successful couple when it came to academics. You split the work equally and helped each other when either of you needed it. While he wasn't always the brightest, he always managed to put a smile on your face when you were studying long into the night, when your eyelids grew too heavy and your will to study lessened. When the day of the presentation came and you both took to the front of the class, it was his support that kept you from disappearing out of fright. However, now that it was over, you were surprised he still wanted to hang out with you, even if it wasn't required anymore.

“Oi, chiquita bonita! Over here!” Sero waves to you from across the classroom. He was sitting in his normal spot with his usual clique, and normally you didn't mix with them. They seemed nice, but it was always awkward when you joined him. You felt like they only tolerated you because of him.

Gathering your items, you shuffle out of your desk space and join him, blushing slightly as he scoots his seat to the side to make space for you right next to him. You could feel the burning stares of the girls surrounding him. You held on though, focusing on staying opaque, knowing he would try getting to the bottom of why you were nervous. Oh if only he knew how hated you were by his clique of girls.

“We did pretty good on the presentation didn't we?” He asks while draping an arm across the back of your chair, his body completely at ease. “Even the cabrón was impressed.”

You smack him lightly on the back of his head. You didn't know a lot of spanish, if at all, but you picked up some slang from the boy next to you. “Don't be mean Hanta, he's not all that bad.”

The girls’ hiss at your action, but Sero only laughs and tugs you closer under his arm. “Lo siento cariño. I'm sorry, but it's not my fault he has a stick up there.” He gestures upward with his middle finger.

You knew if you tried speaking, your voice would have fizzled out like a drop of water on a hot stove.

After the project you two were nearly inseparable, everyone knew you and Sero were an item (even if you both didn't see it)

“Dios mio! What did we do to earn this princesa?”

You turn around to the source of the voice, pausing on decorating the stage of the auditorium. It was Sero, you could tell immediately by his voice, but what you didn't understand was the context of his words. What was he talking about?

The confusion must have shown on your face as he moves closer and climbs onto the stage, walking up to you until he was by your side. “You're all dolled up. What's the occasion?” He holds you by the shoulders and peers behind you as well, earning a pinch on his cheek.

“It's the dance this week, remember? But the play is before, so we have to set up so it's all ready for the night. That means dress rehearsals too.” You were a part of the theatre group, an odd choice for someone who disappears when they get stage fright, but you were heavily invested in what you did. It was a passion you indulged.

“Aye, yeah I forgot about that.” Sero rubs his neck and looks at the ground, deep in thought. At least for two minutes. After the two minutes he peeks at you with a mischievous grin. ”Wanna go to the dance with me?”

To your credit, you manage to stay opaque while your heart beats wildly in its cage. “Thats a dumb way of asking me out.” You mutter while sliding down from the stage, nearly cutting yourself on one of the loose planks.

“¡Cuidado!” He holds his arms out, ready to help you down. “I don't want my date to get hurt you know?”

“I can still dance in a cast.” You brush off his concern with a rare smile. Crushes aside, you appreciated his friendship and concern.

“The fuck is this, Romeo and Juliet? Get a room!” A classmate yells from the lighting stage, laughing when you flip them the bird.

Sero joins in the laughter, leaving soon after apologizing to your classmate. Said classmate meets you in front of the stage, arms crossed and looking back and forth between you and the now closed auditorium door.

“So are you guys dating now?”

“No, we're just friends.” You rub your neck, feeling the translucency crawl up your neck. But it couldn't wipe away the smile on your face.

You gravitate towards each other

Stretching your arms in front of you, you twist your body to the right and sigh as you feel a pop. You didn't particularly like gym class but it was nice to get a good stretch.

Looking around at the field in front of you, you wave at the occasional friendly face. You had friends in this class, which made it even more bearable.

"Hola princesa!"

Sero?

Turning around you grin at the familiar face. You run to the fence blocking you in, gripping it as you watch your friend run to you. He holds your hand through the fence, a normal occurance and a habit you've grown fond of.

"What are you doing here?" You question while turning your hand in order to squeeze his, heart fluttering when you see the small tinge of pink on his cheeks.

"Just here to say hi. My next class is in E block." He peers over your shoulder. You were about the same height, somewhere around 5'4, so you relished being able to see him eye to eye (mostly) while it lasted. He grew a bit over the break of your first year. "Playing anything?"

"Volleyball." You shiver. "I'm team captain, but I suck at it." Who would you pick? Would you actually be a good leader? You feel your voice leave you as you begin to rival that of an onion skin, growing more and more invisible.

A small pinch on the back of your hand pulls you back to reality. Sero waggles a finger, tisking at you. "Don't sweat it, you'll do great." He squeezes your hand before backing up, walking backwards as he heads to class. "Just breathe princesa!"

"Got it." You whisper to yourself, waving to him as you watch him enter the building across from you.

Sadly by the end of your second year, he had grown taller, leaving you craning your neck to look at him.

When he entered U.A. you still cheered him on

Graduating middle school was tough when you split off into different schools. You knew you would keep in contact, but it was so much harder to spend time together when you didnt attend the same schools. Still, with each video chat and phone call, with each text, you showered him with all your love and support. He wanted to be a hero, and you were happy to support him with that dream!

You: Saw you on the tv, you were amazing!

Sero: thanks 😙 still lost tho 😅😅😁😁

You: Yeaaah🤔 but you still looked really cool! Still, didn't realize you were strong enough to pull that Todoroki guy that way 🧐

Sero: Im just full of surprises princesa 😘

Sero mentioned you often to his friends

You were mentioned in at least one conversation a day, it didn't matter the context, you just sort of popped up. What could he say, he loved you! You were his go to for support and someone he truly valued. Plus you weren't crazy like his classmates.

“You keep talking about her but we've never actually seen her.” Mina leans forward on her palm as she sips at her milk tea. “You're not lying about her are you?” She wiggles her eyebrows, eliciting a laugh from Sero.

“Course she's real.”

Kirishima lays his head on the table of the booth they were at, looking at Sero with confusion. “Got proof? It’s not manly to lie to your friends bro.” Sure he believed in his friend, but after a year of just hearing about a special girl, it was hard to keep believing without some form of proof.

Sero holds up a finger as he pulls out his phone. Placing it flat on the table, he pushes the power button and watches his friends faces light up as they view his lock screen. It was a picture of you.

“Woah! Who's the hot chick?” Kaminari asks excitedly as he returns from the bathroom. “Is she single?”

Sero powers off his phone before smacking a piece of tape on his friend’s mouth, surprisingly feeling a twinge of anger at his words. You were his best friend! He had to protect you!

On the inside he knew his anger was from deeper feelings, but for now it was just from the fact that he may need to defend your innocence from his own schoolmate. You were so shy, he knew Kaminari’s flirting would be too much for you.

“Yeah, no cabrón. She's taken.”

You were there for his graduation

Needless to say, you were at his graduation! It was difficult to find him amidst the crowds of families wanting to take pictures of their children and siblings, and even some heroes wanting to say their goodbyes! You were absolutely bombarded and neigh invisible after overthinking the whole thing, so when you finally found him you were stunned into invisibility when his friends jumped you.

“Ohmygodohmygodit'sactuallyyouuuuuu!” Mina screams as she pulls you into her, squeezing the life out of you before you can get a breath out.

The boys were much gentler, but just as excited. Especially Kaminari.

“Hey it’s the hot girl- more like the gone girl, what's happening?” He questions as you disappear from sight, your voice completely AWOL.

Sero smacks his face as he curses his friends out. “Chingues! Give my girl some space hijos de perras!”

Mina gives you enough space to breathe but holds you much like one would a hostage. For a hero course student, you believed that she would have done very well as a villain.

“Nope! We get to meet this girl of yours, Tape Boy!” She looks down at you, squinting to try making out where your face would be, unknowingly glaring directly at you. “He talks about you almost nonstop yet you haven't visited us at all, how unfair is that?” Mina grins.

You come into focus, your voice a mere squeak as you brush some hair out of your face. “A little? I should've visited..” You introduce yourself to his cadre, your name stumbling off your lips.

“Hot and shy? What a cutie!” Kaminari hugs you from your available side where Mina wasn't holding you in a headlock.

A whip of tape smacks the blonde and sends him reeling back to Sero who holds him in a similar hold Mina was holding you.

Your friend ruffles Kaminari's hair in a somewhat violent manner, grinning at him with threatening eyes. "Go easy on her cabrón. She's not used to so many people doting on her."

They were doting on you? You tilt your head and look at Mina who was still examining you. "I don't think I deserve to be doted on, that's not what's going on here right?"

"Of course not, but you and I are gonna have some girl time while the boys get us a spot at a restaurant! You're gonna tell us all about how you and Tape Boy here met!" She chirps excitedly, pulling Bakugou in with her free arm as he tries escaping past her.

You feel a drop of sweat as you accept your fate, watching Bakugou attempt to wrangle his way to freedom. "Sure, sounds nice."

Sero made it rather big as a hero, see, he wasn't the strongest hero but he was very popular

He had always been popular, so it made sense to you when his ranking kept going up and up until he was in the high twenties. You knew he was good at what he did, being a source of smiles even in dark times, but it always brightened your day when you heard your coworkers mention him in passing.

“Have you heard about the hero Cellophane yet?”

“Yeah! I think I saw him around yesterday. He was eating soba with Shoto.”

You look backwards to see the faces of your junior coworkers. They were in a different department than you, but you enjoyed chatting with them every now and then. Mostly when it came to heroes as you had somewhat of an insiders look.

Had you forgotten to mention you were friends with Sero- Cellophane?

You debated whether to tell them over tea one day until you heard their next words.

“He’s kind of hot isn't he?”

... Maybe you would keep the secret to yourself.

As a hero he makes time to drop into your life, sometimes randomly

What else was to be said? Really?

A blur flashes by your face, causing you to yelp in shock, stepping back and nearly falling onto the unforgiving pavement. Luckily, said blur created a swing of tape just in time to catch you, pulling you forward and bringing you into his arms.

“Lo siento mi corazón! I didn't mean to make you fall.” Sero grins at you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. He definitely meant to make you fall, you could see the mischief behind his eyes.

“As if Hanta.” You pinch him on the cheek, a smile coming to your face when he whines. “Look I’m happy to see you but I've got to get to work on time today, no funny business.”

“No funny business?” He repeats after you, rubbing his chin in thought. “Then I guess I’ll have to escort you to make sure you get to work on time.”

Your eyes widen as you feel his hold grow tighter and more secure as he holds you flush against him. Oh no. “Wait Sero-!”

And just like that, you were in the air, swinging from building to building with him propelling you both forward. You attempt to scream at him but your voice is lost along the way as you hear the clicking of cameras.

Oh god they were taking pictures.

“Niña don't worry! We’re almost there!”

Luckily for you, you were never caught on camera. So your quirk did have some uses.

The media was sure he had a partner

The photos really ended up getting him in hot water as every interview he did, the topic of romance was brought up. Fans would notice he would avoid the topic of love, but on his social media he would constantly mention a girl. No one knew who this girl was, but fans and news stations were determined to wring it out of him.

Once the red light of the on-air button was out, the reporter in front of Sero swiftly covers the mic pinned to her lapel and scoots to the edge of her seat. Sero watches in quiet amusement as the whole station becomes silent. Weird. But he knew why they grew quiet so fast. They wanted information, and if even the news anchor waiting for his time to come up stopped his boisterous laughter, it must've been important.

“Off the record. Do you have a secret sweetheart stashed away somewhere Cellophane?”

Oh. This again.

He stretches his arms in front of him as he runs through his normal excuses and dodges for this question. All still viable and working, but.. Maybe he could give a little hint. The media was on his ass about this after those photos were taken of him and his girl, so it was only right to clear the air right?

“Turn on the cameras. I’ll give this to you.”

You were crushed when he admitted he did have a sweetheart (of sorts) and even more so when the media suspected it to be the Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl

The media did end up getting a bit of info out of him and when you heard about this special girl your heart couldn't help but crack under the thought of him distancing himself from you to be with her. You treasured your friendship with him, romantic or not, you didn't want it to end. Because of this fear, you are the one who starts to close yourself off.

“Chiquita, what's wrong?” Sero follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, a bowl of chocolate coated pretzels in your arms. “Are you sick? I can stop by the pharmacy for you.”

“N-No, its okay. I'm not sick..” You back up when you see his arm stretched outward, flinching when the back of his hand meets your forehead.

He hums. “No fever.”

You push past him, abandoning the bowl of chocolatey treats on the counter. You felt yourself becoming frustrated. Not with him, but with yourself. His opinion meant the world to you- he was your best friend! And you were letting this relationship of his get to you. How petty could you be? He did nothing wrong. In fact, you should be happy for him, finally dating his high school sweetheart.

But the thought of him dating Invisible Girl- the irony of him dating an invisible girl- was just too much for your heart to take at the moment.

You had no way to take out this frustration. So it was reflected onto him.

“Cariño-”

“Please!” You slam your hands on the counter, voice fading in and out as you hide your face in the collar of your turtleneck. “Please.. Just go.”

The apartment was quiet, filled with only your ragged breathing as you hold in your rampant emotions. When he leaves with a silent goodbye, you're unsure if the breaking sound surrounding you is just in your head or if something truly reached into you and tore your heart to pieces.

He makes it very clear who that sweetheart is

Finally, he announces just who captured his heart. It was live on a jumbo screen, playing as you were out getting “groceries” for the nights dinner.

The hollow feeling in your chest wasn't easing, and it definitely wasn't made any better when you saw the Stealth Hero on the television next to her team. Though your calves were certainly doing better with how much speed walking you would do when you passed by convenience stores with tabloids lining their windows, photos of Sero and Invisible Girl on the front.

Work went by dreadfully slow, and lunch went by just as uneventfully as usual. You ignored the chatter of your coworkers, uninterested in what they had to say.

After the report came out, no one was talking about the top heroes anymore. They all were focused on the potential lovers and what other secret admiring the heroes had in their ranks. If other heroes were hiding their own affairs. If the popular Cellophane could hide his romance, maybe someone like Deku or Shoto could be too.

“We’re going out for drinks later, want to come with?” Your junior asks as she slings her purse strap over her shoulder. “Jin is paying~”

You respond with a polite smile. “No thanks. I’m going straight home.”

- - -

Going straight home was the plan, but in the end you had to make a quick trip to the nearest grocery store for dinner. Something quick, as you didn't have the energy to make something complicated.

Which meant you ended up buying only instant ramen.

It was on your way back, crossing a busy sector when the sound of your friend on the jumbo screen caught your attention.

“She's my corazón. Mi vida.”

You look up at the screen, stopping in your tracks.

Sero was blushing, a shy smile on his face, but his eyes were lit up with joy. You heart pulses rapidly in your chest, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You had never seen him so flustered, it was always the other way around.

“I’ve loved her since middle school. I never wanted to drag her into this, so I never confirmed her name- but its not Invisible Girl!” He amends quickly, looking at the reporter with a knowing look. He wags his finger, his infamous cocky smile replacing the twitterpated look from earlier.

“Sure, she has a similar quirk, which is how those photos came to be.” He leans back in his chair.

“You want to know her name right? I guess it wouldn't hurt to say. I’ve kept it hidden for so long, but here it is.”

And then he said it.

He said your name.

Looking directly at the screen, he smiles gently, eyes full of the warmth you've been craving ever since you were paired for that project years ago.

“Ella es mi tesoro. She is my treasure.”

Extra:

Racing home, you're not surprised when you find the lights on in your apartment. In fact, it only spurs you forward.

Yanking open the unlocked door, you drop your groceries and launch yourself into Sero’s arms as he held them open for a hug.

He was sweaty from rushing from the news station to your apartment, but neither of you were concerned about it as you laugh. You laugh at the tape still clinging to his clothes, you laugh at the ramen spilling out of your grocery bags, you laugh at your tears.

You laugh at how long it took for you both to finally admit how much you loved each other.

“Mi corazón.” He pulls back from the hug and cups your cheek, looking at you with love softened eyes. “I love you.”

Tears brim your eyes.

You speak in the clearest voice you've ever spoken in. Skin bright and flushed pink.

“I love you too.”

104 notes · View notes

olivinesea · 3 years

Text

A Mixed Blessing

Chapter List

chapter eight: starting to rust

a/n: Just barely coming in at under a month, oops. I think I’m going to take a break from this one for now, it seems to be a little too much while my thoughts are occupied with school things. When I planned this all out originally, this chapter was a possible ending point but then I got ambitious and there’s quite a bit more plotted out after this. But it might be a while before I come back to it, we’ll see. Anyway, thanks for coming along for all the torture, I know it wasn’t a pleasant time but the hurt can be nice occasionally? I’ll try to write something a little kinder in the future. Warnings for all the same things —substances, abuse, some very dark thoughts and themes. ~5.7k

Aaron tries to keep it all together but the world is indifferent.

He tried to stay away, he really did. As if he could see into the future, he could imagine how quickly he would tarnish her smile, could picture it fading right in front of him. He had nightmares where Haley sat, unresponsive and slowly dissolving. But she was insistent, seeking him out, towing him along with her through her day. She’d find him at lunch and push half a sandwich at him once she realized he hadn’t brought anything to eat. Brought him along after school to loiter in the sun with the other theater kids killing time between the end of class and the start of rehearsals, loudly asserting their presence on the world. Aaron hung back, uncomfortable around such casual chaos, everyone moving too fast, speaking too loudly. Compared to his world, Haley’s life was bright, unrestrained, and viscerally present. He didn’t fit there. He stuck out in his silence, dressed in his dark clothes, still too big on him though he was finally starting to grow.

The other kids eyed him suspiciously, muttering quietly about him when they thought he couldn’t hear. Only Haley’s position at the top of whatever social apparatus they operated by kept them from outright excluding him. He didn’t mind too much, he’d heard worse, what did he care what these kids thought of him anyway? What did they know with their golden lives, their excitement, their expectations for the future? Haley’s people believed that the world was for them, would provide what they wanted when they wanted. He found it odd, watching them as they screeched and tackled each other, a blur of color so jarring he had to squint.

He could feel how his difference was noted, their eyes making the back of his neck itch. More than once he tried to disappear but every time Haley slipped her hand into his, squeezing gently, pulling him back toward the group. She’d smile, encouraging, her belief that it would all work out, that he could assimilate given enough time, was unwavering. Her optimism baffled him, sometimes even irritated him. He would inevitably feel guilty about that. Surely it was ungrateful for him to find fault in this girl who had welcomed him when there was absolutely no need for her to do so.

Not everyone was tolerant of Aaron’s presence. The drama teacher regarded him with suspicion, allowing him to stay but making it clear that she was doing him a favor. It helped that he was able to sing, shoring up the weak lower register of the female dominated cast. He was given a minor role, nothing too complicated, nothing that would embarrass them if he failed, as she assumed he would. Some of the other kids caught on to this disapproval, emboldened by it they became less subtle in the ways that they mocked him. Aaron tried to mind his own business, even skipping out on rehearsals when the attention became too much. But Haley inevitably found him, running to catch him after school as he tried to escape out a side door. She dragged him back again and again, refusing to give up on him. Insisting she had seen something special, something she thought she could coax out if given enough time—like a stray dog, so used to mistreatment that he bristled when people came near but still craved affection.

He followed reluctantly, acutely conscious of the growing dislike, mutiny thickening the air. Everything was too sharp these days, he’d lost his sources for getting high. All he had were his cigarettes, too afraid to steal alcohol from his father. He desperately wanted to go back into the woods, to fall back under the quiet spell of muffled words about nothing, watching the light filter through the branches, sparkling as the leaves moved with the breeze. He hated it here, in the building, surrounded by these people with their constant need to be heard, each louder than the last. The smells of the theater, new paint and old fabrics and so much dust made it hard to breath. The too bright lights, unnaturally hot against his skin, and the way every sound echoed made his head ache. He’d be long gone if it wasn’t for the way Haley’s touch made his heart skip, her fingers lightly brushing across his arm to get his attention. Or the way she looped her arm through his as she caught him in the hallway and insisted on walking with him to class, leading him along her sheltered path.

Aaron wondered at the lightness of her head rested against his shoulder as they sat in the grass, sticking her tongue out at something stupid another kid said, then smiling when she heard his smothered laughter. He let his attention drift, eyes wandering until he saw a group in the distance. He watched as they moved away from school, easily guessing where they were headed. He felt a pang of longing as he watched them leave, wishing he could still be part of that. He wasn’t sure he had been happy with Cole but he had at least felt like he was in the right place, like he had found someone who understood him. No one here was like him, no one less so than Haley. He was attracted to her in a different way, fascinated at how she viewed the world and how the world viewed her. He’d never known anyone who moved so easily through life, who was loved and desired by everyone she met. He couldn’t begin to imagine what that felt like though he agreed with the rest of them, she was something special. He didn’t understand why she wanted him around but he wasn’t going to contradict her. Still, he wished to be gone with the group as they sought out unobserved spaces.

“Aaron?” Haley squeezed his knee, drawing his attention back.

“Hmm?” He had no idea what she had been saying.

“Do you want to come to Mike’s house after rehearsal tonight? His parents are out of town.”

Aaron looked dubiously across the group at Mike, someone who was clear in his dislike of Aaron.

“Please?”

Aaron shrugged a shoulder, shifting uncomfortably and causing Haley to sit up.

“It’ll be fun. And it’ll be good for you to get to know everyone a little better. You’re so quiet all the time.”

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Aaron murmured, watching as Mike narrowed his eyes in their direction.

“Don’t be silly,” she said as she hopped up. “C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s almost time.”

He looked up at her, now standing above him. Their eyes met and she smiled. She was pleased with how much he’d been softening. It had only been a few weeks and already he seemed more comfortable, at least with her. She congratulated herself a little, privately, on her success. People had gone out of their way to warn her when she started hanging out with him, bringing him places with her. He was bad, he was dangerous, he would hurt her. But she knew, had known from that first time she saw him looking at her, he wouldn’t hurt her, not ever. He wasn’t so complicated, she reasoned, they were all just scared away by his dark features, his perpetual scowl, the whispered rumors about his family. She, Haley Brooks, was better than that, deeper and more sympathetic. He wouldn’t be the first broken creature she’d healed, but he would be her biggest project yet. She didn’t imagine it could be that hard. Everyone was always happier around her, she could fix this.

He sighed, shaking his head and stood up. Sometimes he could see her watching him and he wasn’t sure he liked the look on her face. Like she was assessing him, marking his progress along some scale she had in her mind. Noting when he ate, when he was rested, when he laughed. He felt a little bit like an animal in a laboratory. But then she would smile at him and he forgot all his hesitation, forgot how he disliked being watched, how much he hated people thinking they knew what he needed. No one had ever cared like her before and he wasn’t sure what she expected in return. But he let himself forget all that and follow her where she led for another chance at that smile, another chance to hear her say his name, sounding so different coming from her lips that it might be a different name entirely.

One of her friends, already halfway back to the building, called Haley’s name and she skipped over to her, confident that Aaron would follow. He watched her go before turning back to pick up his backpack. When he straightened up, Mike was standing very close to him. Aaron wondered at how he’d moved so quickly.

“I hope you don’t think you’re coming to my house, loser.”

Aaron stared at him, debating what to do. He didn’t particularly want to go to this party, he’d really prefer not to go. But Haley had invited him and he didn’t like the way this guy was always looking at her possessively, then looking at Aaron like he’d like to strangle him. Not exactly subtle.

Mike stepped in closer. “Did you hear me? Or are you too high?” He turned to his friends and forced a laugh, “Maybe you shouldn’t have fried your brain with your little homo boyfriend.”

Aaron didn’t think, he just reacted, fist swinging up and punching the other boy in the jaw. He stumbled back, holding a hand to his face, eyes frozen wide in shock. Aaron didn’t pause, only advanced on him, swinging again. It felt good, the anger that was always simmering in his chest, the anger he only barely distracted himself from, finally had an outlet. It probably wasn’t a fair fight, Mike had been expecting Aaron to quietly take the insults as he’d been doing, pretending to ignore them as they needled him whenever Haley was out of earshot. But this insult was too far. More of a mean jab in the dark than an actual accusation, his words had hit a nerve and unlocked a force within Aaron.

Once he landed the first punch, his vision clouded over with anger and he continued to swing at the other kid. The other boys quickly jumped in, once the surprise of seeing Aaron actually fight back wore off, once they realized he meant to do real harm to their friend. He already had Mike pinned on the ground, lip bleeding, hands covering his face, before two more of his friends managed to drag Aaron off. He swung at them too, no technique but plenty of experience on the receiving end. He knew what would hurt and he had enough rage to power him through a dozen opponents. One of the others pulled him off balance, using his grip on Aaron’s wrist to fling him to the side. They blocked his path to Mike, who was scrambling backward on the grass, putting more distance between himself and this suddenly rabid opponent. Breathing hard, Aaron glared at the group, realizing he didn’t have enough strength to overpower them all, despite his murderous desire. He spit in their direction, then grabbed his bag and stalked away.

He didn’t have to think about where he was going. There was only one place to go. He’d tried to be a part of the regular world, a part of a world where time continued evenly, where lights turned on when it was dark and spotlights burned brightest on those with merit. He’d tried to fit himself into that space for Haley’s sake but he had only been fooling himself. They’d known he didn’t belong and he’d finally overstayed his welcome. It was time for him to retreat to the unlit corners of the world, return to the margins of society where people could avert their eyes, where it was easier for them to pretend they didn’t see the wrongness of the boy in front of them. He’d go back to the place in the woods and hope there was someone there that could give him what he wanted, could help him disconnect from this too bright reality. He was as sick of it as they were of him. He allowed himself a brief flicker of hope that he might find Cole out there, with his understanding and their shared history he didn’t have to think about his walls so much. But he stomped down hard on that desire, reminding himself how he had still ended up alone. No, it didn’t need to be Cole, it didn’t need to be anyone in particular, as long as they had something to get him high he didn’t care. It wouldn’t matter for very long anyway.

He crashed across the grass, his anger making his steps heavier, his thoughts louder. He didn’t realize he was being followed, that someone was calling his name. He didn’t notice until there was a hand tugging at the elbow of his jacket. He spun around fast, ready to fight. Haley shrank back at the anger in his face, the wildness in his eyes. He clenched his fists when he recognized her, trying and failing to pull back the storm of emotion that had been knocked loose. He never wanted to scare her but she was following where she didn’t belong. He only had so much control.

“Go away.”

“Are you hurt? Where are you going? Why’d you attack—”

She didn’t even have the question fully formed before he turned and started walking again, unwilling to be accused of something that wasn’t remotely his fault. He didn’t like the way it stung him, hearing that she assumed his guilt. He didn’t like that he’d let her get so close, let her have such influence over him. She ran a little to get ahead of him, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She was frightened by his fury, but she wouldn’t let him go this easily. Not after she’d spent so many hours persuading him to join her world.

“Aaron.”

He stopped short when he heard his name, looked at her with some of his anger melting into sadness, feeling betrayed even though he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

“I didn’t start it,” he could barely get the words out, hated how much he wanted her to believe him, hated that he had to explain himself.

She rubbed her face, trying to think as she pressed her palm against her lips. She found she was more frightened of this new emotion than she was of the anger. He looked so hopeless.

“I’m sorry, I just…” she didn’t know what to say now that she’d gotten him to stop, now that she could see past the heated front of anger and could see some of the broken edges he did so much to hide. Wasn’t this what she’d been asking for?

He watched her struggle with what to say, saw the moment the pity started to creep into her eyes. Before she could say anything else, before she could make him feel worse, he started walking again, pushing past her. “Just leave me alone,” he muttered. He didn’t bother to check if she followed.

When he reached the clearing it was empty except for one person stretched out on a broken down couch. At first all he could see was the back of their head, the dirty blond hair sticking up in places. The recognition was a visceral feeling, clawing through his chest. He almost couldn’t believe it was real, that he was getting exactly what he hoped for. Cole sat up when he heard Aaron’s heavy footsteps cracking through the dead leaves and sticks littering the ground. He remained seated, looking at Aaron idly, as if no time had passed, as if he’d only been waiting for Aaron to turn up after class. Aaron felt so many conflicting emotions, had so many things he wanted to say that he could only stand with his jaw clenched against the flood of words he knew he would regret. Cole twitched the corner of his mouth in a slightly mocking smile and Aaron snapped. He grabbed Cole by the collar, pulling him to his feet, unsure whether he meant to strangle him or kiss him. Cole’s gaze shifted to look behind him.

“Why’d you bring your girlfriend with you?”

Too caught up in the charge of the moment, Aaron didn’t understand what he was talking about. Cole pulled away and lifted his chin in the direction he was facing. Aaron turned and saw Haley. She’d continued to follow him, concerned about what he was planning on doing, haunted by the hollowed out look in his eyes. She stood, apprehensive, eyes darting between the two.

He scowled. “Go back to school Haley.”

“But—are you okay?” She stumbled over her words, staring openly at Cole. She’d seen him in the distance, even noticed how Aaron sometimes watched him when their paths crossed. He looked even more menacing up close.

“I’m fine.” His mouth pressed together, biting his lower lip to keep his composure. He didn’t understand why she was being so persistent, why she wouldn’t just go away like everyone else. When she still hesitated he got impatient. There were things he needed to handle and he didn’t need her here getting in the way. He waved his hand at her, brushing away her attention. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

From behind him Cole fluttered his fingers at her with false sweetness. She hated the way he was grinning at her, his obvious confidence that he was the one in charge of the situation. She glared at him and he laughed.

She looked one more time at Aaron, who was no longer paying attention to her, had turned back to Cole entirely. She shook her head. Fine, if he wanted this it was hardly her problem. What did she even know of his life anyway? Trying not to feel like she’d lost, she retraced the path back to school.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Aaron started in on Cole. His thoughts were disorganized and barely coherent but he’d spent weeks trying to understand the sudden distance. He needed Cole to explain, to know his reasons for turning on him so quickly after all that they’d shared.

“What the fuck—” He hadn’t finished his question before Cole clamped his hand over his mouth.

“Shut up.”

Their eyes met and there was a mental struggle for the upper hand. One thing that had changed in the past few weeks was Aaron’s strength. No longer constantly submerged in a haze of intoxication, he felt everything more pointedly and he was ready to direct that pain elsewhere. He wanted to bite Cole, to scratch at his face, to scream at him for way he’d been abandoned, the sickness and shame he’d had to endure on his own. But the warmth of Cole’s palm, the familiar smell of his skin, the muscle memory of being in this exact position was too much. He relented almost instantly, sinking into the couch, pulling his knees up against his chest and waiting to see what Cole would do next.

Cole watched him thoughtfully, interested by this new spark of resistance but also pleased that he hadn’t made it too far on his own. A little fight kept things interesting, staved off the boredom Cole so often felt. It was probably that girl he’d been with, giving him ideas. He could see he’d have to do some damage control to bring Aaron back completely.

“I’m sorry,” he looked down, measuring drops of sincerity. “My grandma, she saw…she said she was going to report you.”

Aaron was confused, he didn’t know exactly what she could report about him but he heard the edge in Cole’s voice, knew better than to dig deeper. Cole sat down beside him, pulling one of his hands loose from where he’d wrapped it tightly around his legs. He traced Aaron’s palm with his thumb, looking into his face again.

“You know I didn’t mean it right? I didn’t have a choice.”

Aaron recoiled, sickened by the number of times those words had echoed through his life. Worse though was how easily he was willing to give into them if it only meant he could have back a little of that warmth he had found. He ducked his head and shrugged.

Cole squeezed his hand. “Good, cause I think I’ve got something you’ll like.” He let go and dug around in the couch cushions, pulling out a crumpled paper bag. When he smiled at Aaron, that familiar greedy smile, Aaron admitted to himself that he wasn’t here to fight with Cole, that he had never been coming for that. This was all he wanted, was all he was good for: to be lied to and to be led astray. He didn’t mind as long as he didn’t have to be fully present for it. He sat up a little straighter.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

They fell back in with one another but it remained uneasy. Aaron was still not allowed back at Cole’s house and he was afraid to miss too much class. Lately his father had been grumbling about sending him away and he wasn’t entirely sure he meant away to live somewhere else or away from life entirely. There were no peaceful interactions between them, only lucky days where Aaron successfully avoided being seen. A sudden increase in truancy calls would not work out well for him. If he had been a little more mature, a little less caught up in his own teenage drama, he might have noticed the changes in his father’s face, the way the lines grew deeper as his frame grew thinner. As it was he only noticed as much as he needed to know to keep himself out of the direct path of destruction. He once might have cared to notice his mother crying more, even when his father wasn’t there to be the cause of it but he was long past feeling any sort of connection to her. If she was troubled, she could find someone else to support her. She certainly hadn’t done anything to help him all these years. Nothing that he could see.

At school Haley continued to pester him. She stood up for him against the accusations that he had attacked Matt for no reason so he was still allowed at play rehearsals. He went grudgingly, only because he couldn’t shake the way he felt bewitched by Haley. Now he tried even harder to stay out of any social situations, to keep things strictly professional with the group of theater kids. However, he couldn’t help but enjoy Haley’s company at lunch and in between classes. Much as Aaron had disliked her friends, he couldn’t resist the brilliance of her personality. She made him feel like being a whole person was possible, made him forget for a few moments what he really was. She may have made him a little uncomfortable but she was relentlessly kind, and he was more than expert at keeping things hidden so he let her think she was doing some good as she badgered him into eating more and forced him to study. Even if it was only pretend, they were both getting something from it.

Only after the school day was over would he would slink away to the woods where he’d meet Cole. Cole still wasn’t speaking to him on campus, too aware of how their obvious closeness before had been risky. He hadn’t changed in their time apart either, his mood still swinging wildly from affection to disgust. It didn’t feel great but Aaron needed him, needed what Cole could give him. Attention and a steady supply of drugs. He didn’t have to worry about his insufficiencies around Cole, they were too similar for him to care about hiding the difficult parts of his life, didn’t have to worry about being pitied, about someone trying to fix him. They’d dragged more furniture into the abandoned shed, found an old metal trashcan they could burn things in to warm the place as the months crept deeper into the dark end of the year.

By the time Aaron’s sixteenth birthday came and went he felt like he was leading a completely fractured life. At home he was a ghost at best, a target when not; with Haley a treasured curiosity, constantly examined and prodded into a more acceptable shape; and with Cole, he was himself, angry and violent but self-medicated to the point where none of it mattered. Any gentleness that had existed between them over the summer was gone, every interaction was rough and scrambling, followed by a shame that only dissipated once the high kicked in.

It became harder to hold all the pieces together. He would look at himself in the mirror and struggle to remember his own name. He started smoking pot during the day again, just to ease some of the jarring transitions. At lunch, Haley talked and talked and he wouldn’t notice when she asked him a question until she poked him in the bicep and he jumped like a startled cat. When she tried to ask him about it he got annoyed, snapping at her and walking away from school, not caring that it was the middle of the day and that this bad choice was sure to come back to him that evening.

The show opening got closer as he missed more rehearsals. He missed so many that he didn’t know what he should be doing when he was there, very obviously sticking out when he went one way while the rest of the corps moved in the other direction. The drama teacher pulled him aside, giving him an ultimatum that he needed to be present at every subsequent rehearsal or he would be cut. Not so secretly hoping this would be enough to get him to leave. He started to say he didn’t give a shit about her stupid play when he saw Haley anxiously watching their conversation and swallowed his insults, only nodding, looking away so the teacher wouldn’t see his contempt for someone who could think something like a high school play mattered at all.

He made it to all the rehearsals but he was sure to be high, not enough that he would be caught but enough to be clear that it didn’t matter to him if he did. He wasn’t sure why he continued to come, why Haley had such a pull on him. It didn’t make sense that he wanted so badly to make her happy when she was so different, so far removed from everything else in his life. Maybe it was that he knew that without her, there was nothing tying him to the regular world, the place of school and society and jobs and futures. She was the only person that seemed to care if he was around, an emotion he was long past feeling for himself. She was the last reminder that he was a human being, that he mattered to someone. It was the only thing standing between him and completely giving in to the destructive force that had been whispering promises of an easy solution to his problems.

It was just enough to keep him behaved around these people who hated him without knowing anything about him. They hated what he represented, hated the way he forced them to see that the world could be ugly and painful. They were offended that he dared to show himself among the normal people when he so clearly belonged to the underside. He kept quiet and kept close to Haley when he was at school, when he was in the theater. He wore the stupid costume, the silly hat, followed the directions barked at him, sang just loud enough to carry the rest. Then he slipped away as soon as he was able.

The week of the opening performance was a bad one. Cole, having recently gotten his hands on some speed, was off on a manic high. Aaron had tried it once but hated the way the uppers spiked his anxiety, the way he felt every eye on him like his skin had turned inside out. After that first time he had declined, preferring to find oblivion in whatever downers were available. But Cole liked it quite a bit. It made his already unpredictable nature even worse, even more dangerous. He’d spend these highs running all over town, breaking car windows for fun, stealing anything worth a couple dollars. Aaron hated it and did his best to hide from him while he was strung out like that.

The afternoon of the show’s opening he’d gone to an old, private hiding spot after school with the intention of getting so stoned he couldn’t feel anything that might come his way later. He succeeded only to remember belatedly what day it was. Haley had tried to remind him several times during the day but he’d been too high, too distracted to listen. Swearing, he ran back to school, not sure what time it was or what time he was supposed to have been there.

The house lights were already off, the audience quiet as the opening bars played. He raced to get into his costume, having to re-button his shirt more than once as the tiny objects refused to line up properly. He gripped his hat as he stumbled into the wings to the sound of the chorus coming in—the chorus he was supposed to be a part of. He thought he could probably just slide onto the end of the line without attracting too much attention. Unfortunately, he found his path blocked by the drama teacher, her face dark and angry, completely out of patience for this mess of a teenager. She stared at him, his eyes red and glassy, skin pale, insultingly obvious in his intoxication.

“No.”

He looked at her unfazed, barely registering her as more than an object to move around. When he tried to step past her, she blocked him again.

“Go home Aaron,” her voice was quiet but unfriendly.

He shook his head, “I’m going to miss my cue.”

She frowned, surprised that he was aware enough to even know when his part was. “You’re high, you can’t be on school property.”

Aaron glanced into her face now, paying attention. No teacher had ever mentioned being able to tell he was not sober before.

“If you don’t leave now, I will call the police.”

He stepped back, narrowing his eyes, gauging how serious she was, if she would really draw that much attention to the situation. Her expression didn’t change and he could tell she meant it. He looked past her once more, seeing Haley step forward into the spotlight to begin her solo. His heart twisted, thinking about how disappointed she’d be that he couldn’t make this happen for her. He’d tried, tried so hard to keep it together for this. She’d been so excited and even though he couldn’t feel any of that, he liked the way it lit up her face when she talked about the performance, about how her parents and her sister would be in the audience, about how she wanted them to meet him. He’d never planned on staying for that but he’d wanted to at least be part of the show, to at least give her that.

“Now, Hotchner,” she insisted, voice cold and unsympathetic. He shrugged and tossed the hat on the ground by her feet before turning and walking out.

He headed straight for the shed, knowing there were supplies there that he had slowly siphoned away when Cole was too high to notice. He’d been saving them, watching his little stockpile grow larger. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was saving it for, exactly what his intention was but now seemed as good a time as any to find out. He hoped Cole wasn’t there, at least not until he could get his fix. Nothing would matter then.

Once inside he turned on the camp lantern he’d stolen and climbed onto a rickety chair to reach the seam between the roof and the wall. He pulled out his supplies, examining them as he settled back down on the dirty old cushions on the floor and wrapped a blanket around himself. It was an old army surplus thing, scratchy and smelling of smoke but effective against the chill. He considered his options. There was a good amount in there, probably enough for two people if he waited for Cole to turn up. He could maybe ease him out of his frenzy, bring him down to Aaron’s level, to the place where they could float through time without moving, without worrying. He thought about the last time he’d seen him, the way his eyes had moved past him without any real recognition. He thought about the dark purple bruises on his wrist where Cole had grabbed him, twisting his arm and insisting Aaron give him whatever money he had.

Fuck him, he decided.

Cole would probably be angry if he came here and found Aaron high without him, would be suspicious of how that had come to be. He would probably regret not leaving any for him but just at that moment he didn’t care. Hurt and love and shame and desire were all the same to him, all more than he wanted to feel. He just wanted to feel nothing. He set himself up quickly, well practiced and sure of his movements. He glanced around the shed once, really seeing his surroundings, seeing how far he had sunk and he laughed as he pressed the plunger down. Anyone who heard him would have been alarmed, the sound more like an animal caught in a trap than an expression of human joy. His last thought as he sank back into the ground was that it really was too much for one person. Too much to be doing alone. Then he got what he wanted and everything was just black.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #young hotch #young haley brooks #tw substances #tw abuse #a mixed blessing

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