#first few times i drew him in middle school i did TRY to draw him right

[kazumahashimoto]

from one apple motherfucker to the next

[unique-high]

Keep Wanting You | RIIZE ANTON X BLK FEM READER.

summary: why you gotta make me keep wanting you?

theme: ex-lovers in a small town.

loosely based on the song Why Ya Wanna by Jana Kramer. Lyrics are sort of written into the fic.

a/n: I do take requests for RIIZE so yeah. 😭 this is just a little drabble I did it late in the morning because I really love this song and I really wanted to write something for Anton. 🥺 sorry for any mistakes.

You didn't expect for your ex Anton to walk through those diner doors that late August afternoon. So all the gossip around town was true that he was back in town. He's the only person from high school who left this little hometown to chase his big dreams in a big city. He's chatting with some older people who watched him grow up as a kid. You were hoping he didn't notice you, but he does, that little glimpse he gives you while he's talking with someone makes your heart sink to your stomach.

Why did he have to come here, of all places?

Anton walks up to your table. He's smiling and your heart is breaking like the night he left you behind in this town. You want to hide your face, your eyes sting as you try to fight back the tears with a fake smile.

He's wearing an old shirt that you love. A cotton white tee with a black heart sewn into the front pocket. You were never sure why you loved that shirt on him, but you did. Anton sat across from you, his eyes taking you in.

“You're looking good,” he said.

His words felt like a punch to the gut. No hello. No, how you have been. Just you're looking good. It was kind of his way to draw you in a bit to make you trust him again and to get you to think he's leaving was never a big deal.

“Thanks...?” you said softly.

He reached across the table, his index finger tapping three times on the back of your hand. Three little taps coded for ‘I love you’, something you and Anton came up with back in high school.

You slowly drew your hand away.

“It's been a while,” he said.

“Yeah...it has...”

“You never left this place.” There's a bit of regret stuck in his throat.

“Why would I?” Your words are icy. “This place is all I know.”

“Don't you want to see something else outside of our hometown?”

“No... Not really.”

Seeing anything else didn't feel right. That safety of where home would always be kept you nestled in this town. And you never saw why Anton would want to leave a place that felt like a comforting hug after a long day. Or just suddenly leave you for some dream right after graduation. God, you were glad he wasn't here to see those first couple of months when you were a mess behind him.

So seeing him now, just having him sit across from you like everything was fine, slowly opened those wounds that didn't quite heal up enough.

“Is it wrong of me to say I've missed you?” he said.

You look down at your coffee mug. Your reflection staring back at you in the black coffee with a few cubes of sugar in it.

“Do you really?” Your voice creaks on the way up your throat.

Anton doesn't say anything for a moment. Maybe because it was selfish of him to say something like that. Like what right did he have to you now?

“Yeah. Mainly you're one reason I'm back here,” he said.

Him saying that caused you physical pain.

Was I really? Your red nails tapped at the side of the coffee mug. It would be a lie if you said you didn't miss him. If you didn't think about him all these years later. If you hadn't checked his Instagram a billion times to see if he had moved on. Just flings here and there, but nothing serious. The girls in the city could never compare to the one small-town girl that he still loved.

So he fucked up by leaving you.

“Anton, don't say something you don't mean.” You pleaded. “Don't okay?”

You look up from your coffee.

“I mean it though.” He said. “I mean it with every heartbeat.”

The corners of your mouth pull down and your eyes water. You grabbed a napkin from the middle of the table and dabbed at your eyes, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“I need to go.” You said.

Because things were getting too real. If he said anything else, you would have maybe done the one thing you said you'd never do, which was forgive him.

You slid out of the booth and so did Anton. You placed a couple of dollars on the table for your coffee. Anton follows you out of the diner. You stopped walking.

“Don't follow me–” It's the way he moved in for a hug that caught you off guard.

What was he thinking? You let it happen. You deep down you wanted it though. It's a shame almost you craved his hug. How you melt against his body, how his arms tighten around your shoulders, your face in his chest smelling him. You were coming unglued.

It's sad how you wanted him again to go back to the familiarities of his love like he never broke your heart when he said goodbye. And God, how you wished he had been cold towards you like any ex would. But that wasn't him.

You needed to push him away. You needed to yell at him that this wasn't fair—that he doesn't get to do this to you. Hell, you can't bring yourself to do any of it. It felt so right with him right now.

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x teen!reader - weight of the world

Part 1:

Sitting on the step to the school, you ran a hand down your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to fight back a yawn.

“You’re late.” Someone spoke.

You grumbled a little, looking up at the man.

“Well no shit Tim, guess who was fucking up all night somewhere under Ackley bridge because I was sent on a wild goose chase!” You hissed.

He raised his hands, sitting next to you on the step.

“Look, I’m just the messenger here kid, I’m told to tell you where the words are, that’s it.”

“Yeah, well I couldn’t get all the way through so I have to go back down tonight, finish the last half. I found a passage to cut my time a little bit.”

He nodded his head.

Reaching into the pocket of your blazer, you pulled out some old paper and you opened it, taking the pen from you pocket as you drew along a path.

“This route here was pretty active, like a lot more than normal.” You explained.

“Do you know why?”

“My guess? Maybe someone else has recently been there, I’ve no idea.”

Tim nodded his head, taking the pen and map from you, and he circled a certain part of the map.

“We have reason to believe you’ll find the word here somewhere, or in the nearby area.”

You sighed, taking the pen and map, putting them back into your pocket.

“I don’t even want to do this, just send somebody else I don’t care.”

“You’re the only person who can do this kid, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah yeah the whole world rests on me, without me everything is gone. Yeah.”

You pushed yourself up from the step, and you looked at your phone for the time.

“I’ll go finish this now so let the old bastards know that their little pet is doing what I’ve been told.”

“(Y/N) seriously? Come on?”

You stuck your middle finger up at him as you made your way back towards the reception so you could leave.

“Hey! Hey!” Mr Evershed called.

He set the papers down he was holding on the desk, setting his cup down as well.

“(Y/N) you can’t just walk out of here.”

“Watch me because I can.”

“Let’s talk about this first, please?”

You waved your hand dismissively at him as you pushed the front door open, making your way out.

“(Y/N)!”

“I’m busy!”

“And you need to be in school!”

You didn’t reply, you just made your way to the gate, pushing it open so you could step outside and you carried on down the street.

It didn’t take long to walk to where you needed to be, and you held your hand out to open the doorway before entering.

You couldn’t be bothered to do this, and you didn’t want to do it but you had absolutely no choice at this point they were going to be on back for however long this took.

The one before you had died trying, and they had been training you since you were a kid for this whole thing.

It took hours for you to finally get to where you had to be, your body ached from being thrown around, you had numerous cuts and injuries, but finally you stood in front of the wall.

Your eyes scanned over the words until you found one drawing your attention and you stared at it for a few minutes, finally burning the word into your brain.

You left, making your way to the body of the creature you had killed, and you pulled the mask from its face, picking up the staff as well.

Did you need it? No. But it was pretty cool looking, so you took it, along with some other things you found.

You found the exit, and left, coming out on the other side of Ackley and you found it was dark.

Thankfully you lived closer to this side, so you walked home, making your way down stairs to your basement, you set the staff on the table, and you put the mask on the wall with the others.

Heading back upstairs, you took a shower, ignoring the stinging of your wounds, and you held your hand out, a small golden glow circling them, closing them and healing them into small scars.

Getting dried, you changed into some more comfortable clothes and headed back to your basement.

Looking at the larger map, you drew a small X on it where you just been, looking at all the others.

Pulling up a chair, you sat on your knees as you began to flick through some reports that you were given to read.

How they had managed to fuck up twice all those years ago was beyond you, now their problem was your problem and you didn’t want it to be.

Setting the reports down, you got up, taking the staff into a different room, and you set it on the enchanting table, flicking through the pages of a book to find the right one.

You grabbed a stone, and set it on the table as well, whispering the ancient language to transfer the power from the staff to the stone.

The staff broke, and you grabbed the stone, carefully placing it in a holder, taking a slip of parchment to write what it was and placed it behind it.

You tossed the bow broke staff in the corner with the others, and you made your way upstairs to the sofa to lay down.

The dog in front of the fire whined a little, his tail thudding against the ground and you smiled, patting your stomach.

“Come on Meeko.”

He barked, jumping up to jump on you, making you groan in pain, and he laid down, resting his head on your stomach as you ruffled the fur on his back.

You were always exhausted so for you sleep came easily, and you didn’t wake up until the morning light came filtering through the window, and your alarm resounded through the room.

You sat up, turning your alarm off and looked at the time.

“Come on Meek, let’s get breakfast.”

The dogs ears perked up and you smiled.

“You want breakfast buddy?”

His tail waged a little bit, and he peered up at you but didn’t move his head.

“Oh does the silly boy need his morning kiss?”

Meeko wagged his tail even more and you smiled, leaning down you kissed his head, and he sat up, stretching before lazily following you to the kitchen.

You made his breakfast first before sitting down with yours, nibbling at the bread as you gathered your other uniform from the dryer.

Putting it on, you let Meeko out the back for half an hour, sitting on the step as you watched him happily run around the garden.

“So, how did it go?” Tim asked.

You titled your head back up at him.

“Fine, I got it.”

“Good, you just need to practice it now. Which was it?”

“Aura whisper, pretty useless to be honest.”

“Well, anything helps. Let’s go, you’re in enough trouble as it is.”

You sighed, calling your dog back inside, and you grabbed your bag, swinging it over your shoulder.

It only contained one object, but that object was important, so you couldn’t let it ought of your sight in case any trouble happened.

“I still don’t get why I have to attend school.”

“Because you need to blend in. That’s what the greybeards said. You have to blend in while working here.”

“Still don’t get why it’s so important…” you grumbled.

You climbed into the car, putting your seatbelt on.

“Because this is going to be the site where the gate to the heavens is going to open, that’s the day you’re going to have to fight him.”

“I already know the prophecy.”

You turned your attention out the window.

“Exactly, so you need to take this seriously (Y/N). You are the chosen one, the dragonborn. This is your destiny.”

“I know, okay? Trust me I’ve been reminded of this my whole fucking life.” You snapped.

Tim sighed, glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road.

“I know this isn’t what you asked for kiddo, I know it isn’t fair and it’s not right, but I swear I did try get them to push this further down the line, but they’re insistent that it has to be done. You have to make sure you’re ready now.”

“We don’t even know when this event is going to happen… it could be weeks.. could be years… could be after I’m dead…”

“I know, but the greybeards want you to be ready. They want you to be fully trained for when it does happen. They’re thinking of you.”

“They’re thinking of themselves. You can speak the language why can’t you do it?”

Tim sighed again, pulling his car into a parking spot in front of the school.

You climbed out, and he followed you over to one of the benches in the reception, sitting down next to you.

“I can speak Dovah, yes, but not like you. You have the soul of a dragon (Y/N), which means you’ve got the power to end this.”

“So did the previous dragonborn, didn’t do them much good now did it? No, they just sent Alduin forward in time like the one before them.”

“That’s why I’m working on fixing whatever enchantment they used, okay? I’m going to make sure that I have all the pieces.”

You looked at your mentor, and he smiled at you.

“I know you want a normal life, and I’m really sorry you can’t have one.”

“I don’t even know why I’m disappointed, I should be used to it.”

“No, you shouldn’t. It isn’t fair, okay? It isn’t, no amount of pressure should ever be put on a teenager, especially not this. But the. The weight of trying to take lessons and pass exams? That’s not fair.”

You shrugged a little bit, resting your head back n the wall as you closed your eyes.

“It is what it is.”

Tim sighed, standing up as he took your bag.

“I’ll keep this in my office.”

You just nodded your head, listening to the sound of him walking away, and you opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

You were angry.

Not with Tim.

He had been the only person in your corner for as long as you could remember, but with everything else.

With your ancestors for messing this up, with Alduin, with the mages running around, the secret communities who aren’t doing much to help you, the greybeards, yourself.

You just held resentment towards everything and anything.

You didn’t want any of this.

Taking a deep breath, you crouched down, leg bouncing up and down as you stared at your hands, covered in small scars, one large one going over the back of your right hand.

No teenager should have to carry this amount of responsibility, these amounts of scars.

“Good morning (Y/N).”

You looked up from your hands.

“Mr Evershed.” You greeted.

He pointed towards his office and you nodded, getting up to follow him.

Walking inside, you stand down in one of the chairs while he draped his jacket on the coat hook, setting his bag next to his desk.

“Are you ready to talk about yesterday?” He asked.

“Yeah I guess.”

He nodded, sitting down.

“So, would you like to tell me what happened? Why did you leave a few hours into the day?”

“I was tired, just wanted to go home and sleep really.”

“(Y/N) that’s no excuse to leave the way you did, I understand you may be tired but so are most of the students in this school. Not only that but you’ve been leaving most of your lessons, you never do your homework. You only moved here last year yet you’re quickly becoming one of the biggest red flagged students here.”

You shrugged a little.

“So what? My grades are fine right?”

“Yes but that’s aside from the point. You can’t behave like this, and I am going to have to place you in resolve for the day.”

“Fine, okay. I’ll go to resolve.”

“That willingly?”

“I did wrong, I know that. Why deny something I know I did and waste both our time?”

He sighed softly.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Why?”

Mr Evershed gestured to the side of his head.

“Because you’ve got a bruise here, if you’re having problems with a student, somebody at home you know you can talk to me right?”

You furrowed your brows a little, pulling your phone out so you could have a look.

He was right, you had a small bruise on the side of your head, going past your hairline.

You put your phone back into your pocket.

“I’m not having any trouble with anybody, I fell on the sofa so maybe my dog accidentally hit me with a toy or something, he does that sometimes.”

“This is a safe place (Y/N).”

“If that’s everything I’m going to resolve.”

You got up, leaving the room and Mr Evershed sighed to himself again.

You had been at the school for just over a year now, and yet nobody could ever get you to open up, you just weren’t interested, you had a cold hard stare that could rival any soldiers and he was sure of it.

Most teachers were concerned about you but with no hard evidence of anything they couldn’t help you or figure out what was going on.

All he could do was go to resolve later on to check on you, make sure that you were still there and working like you were supposed to be.

For now, he would just try get in contact with your guardians to see if he was able to hold a meeting with them about your behaviour and lack of interest in anything

[protokirby]

Been having real bad insomnia lately and paired with my vast assortment of "you're super tired for no reason" disorders, I have not been going to church or feeling well for the past few weeks but this day I was super determined to go to church even with just 5 hours of sleep. (I'm tired of being tired and I'm tired of missing church)

And I'm really glad I was so determined to go today because I got some advice on something that I had been struggling with spiritually.

Thanking the Lord Jesus for being able to go today :D

Oh and for the folks who like seeing the doodles I draw while at church, I have those too.

They're extra messy than usual because 5 hours of sleep made my art skills extra dull but whatever

Oh first I added the missing wings on a drawing of Reaper from several weeks ago

Also I drew beast au Grusha from memory. He's talking with Ryuki. To be specific, an au Ryuki who's a shapeshifter. Ryuki may look like he's in danger, but this is how these two communicate with each other. They love each other actually. The floaty thingies that levitate near beast Grusha's arms are fun to draw-

Beast au Grusha along with Reaper and the shapeshifter Ryuki are a trio who go on adventures through the multiverse together. It's fun to think of scenarios with them. I failed hard on many of the lines here(as I mentioned. Lack of sleep messed with my art skills for today. No big deal) so ignoring the messy lines, this is cute. Tallest guy of the friend group holding the smallest guy like hamburger

Then I tried to draw Reaper and his Leon(who's still called Leon, but he goes by the name Eclipselon in his gargoyle form). Reaper's Leon gave him a bunny plushie that he always keeps with him at all times. Usually in a "storage dimension" that Reaper keeps stuff in as he's traveling the multiverse but technically that's still with him.

Anyway - I failed so hard on the lines when drawing the Leon that I just- gave up lol

So here's an incomplete drawing I might never finish

Then I tried drawing Drayton. Looks uhhh okay- I guess- considering I'm not good at drawing today.

Also something about drawing characters crossing their arms makes me forget what arms look like. I keep trying though. Someday I will draw crossed arms that look like arms

Then I just decided "hey I should draw creatures the way I would always draw in school" that is... just making lines on the paper wherever the whims go. No plans. Just doodles. That ended up becoming some cool hoofed wolf thing with floaty thingies and wispy thingies. Looks cool imo :D

And last doodle of the day. I wanted to know if I could remember how to draw Zero from megaman x. I haven't drawn him in years. I drew zero from the megaman zero series some, but not this one for a long time. I used to draw this Zero like every day in middle school through high school sooo I guessed I'd remember enough to be recognizable at least

I think I did pretty good with how bad my memory usually is :D

I missed some details and there are several messy lines from ⭐the big tired⭐ but I'm impressed I remembered how to draw him as well as I did

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Not Enough

has anyone else just wanted Danny to go completely fucking feral at Dash? anyone?

yeah me too

this is some truly self-indulgent shit y'all

"Hey Fenton!"

Danny slammed his locker shut, sighing as Dash clapped him roughly on the shoulder.

"I'm throwin' a huge ass Halloween party this weekend, ghosts are all about Halloween right? You should totally come!"

It wasn't the first party Danny had been invited to since being outed as Phantom, but somehow Dash didn't seem to get the hint that he wasn't even remotely interested.

"No." Danny snapped, he threw his bag over his shoulder and turned his back on Dash, walking away without another word.

"What's your problem?"

Danny stopped, turning back around with a face of utter disdain.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been trying to be nice, but all you do is just brush me off! Like you can't even pretend to be busy or something?"

Danny stared, mouth halfway open as he tried to find the words to respond.

"Are you actually serious?" he finally choked out, almost too bewildered to be angry.

Almost.

"You're not still mad about all that stuff from before right?" Dash asked. "Like, I don't even do that shit anymore, it's over."

"Is it?" Danny's eyes flashed brightly and Dash took a half step back as the air went cold. "Because I'm pretty sure it was just yesterday that I pulled Mikey out of his locker."

"Well, yeah but that was Mikey." Dash laughed. "C'mon man, I wouldn't do that to you. We're totally cool now, so why you gotta keep blowing me off? You talk to Kwan like it's not big deal, and he used to wail on you all the time!"

Danny took a deep, slow breath, then another.

"Have you considered that maybe it's because I don't like you?" Danny said through gritted teeth.

Dash huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at the ground.

"Look, I get it, I was a jerk, but it's over! I'm actually trying to be nice, now you're the one being an asshole."

Danny looked as though he'd been slapped.

"You're such a fucking idiot Dash." Said Danny, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "You can't just treat someone like shit every single day for two years and then expect them to get over it because you invited them to a few parties."

"Then how come Kwan gets to hang out with you?" Dash could feel his face heating up. "You're just gonna let him off the hook? That's not fair!"

"HE APOLOGISED!"

In one thunderous moment, every locker in the hallway slammed open, sending papers and books flying across the floor. The few students still packing up their things got the fuck out of dodge, whether this was a ghost thing or a Fenton thing (was there even a difference at this point?) they wanted no part of it.

Dash couldn't move, his feet felt heavy, he wasn't entirely sure if Danny had done something to him with his ghost powers, or if he was just afraid.

Because he was certainly afraid.

Even after everyone found out, Danny still didn't use his powers at school unless it was a ghost emergency. He didn't use them for pranks, didn't use them to get even, didn't even use them to show off.

But he was sure as hell using them now, and Dash suddenly realised why he was always holding himself back.

He was terrifying.

Danny took a few steps forward, stopping barely an arm's length away from where Dash was rooted to the spot, trembling.

"Kwan apologised to me." He said, quietly this time. "He apologised to my friends, he even apologised to some other kids, and when I told him that I wasn't ready to forgive him, he accepted that and left me alone until I was ready to talk to him again."

Dash wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to make his brain form the words he needed, it was too busy buzzing with danger run danger get out run run RUN.

"You made every single day of my life miserable for two whole fucking years, and that isn't even counting the bullshit you pulled in middle school. How do you feel right now Dash? Does it scare you to be around me? Does it scare you to be at the mercy of someone that you know damn well can hurt you?" Danny leant in, grabbing a fistful of letterman jacket. "I hope it does, because now maybe you'll have an idea what it was like for me going to school every fucking day knowing that you would be there, ready and waiting to hurt me. Every single FUCKING day."

Dash found himself being thrown backwards, his feet finally able to move again as he caught himself.

"I'm s-sor-sorry." he mumbled, his lips felt numb and tingly and his head swam with panic as he struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Danny's voice cracked, his face wasn't twisted in rage anymore, his eyes were blue once again, and shining with tears. "Are you really sorry for hurting me? Or are you just sorry that the guy you were beating the shit out of turned out to be Phantom?"

"I didn't... I didn't know." Dash gasped out, he could barely hear his own words, all he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears as he struggled to draw in breath. "I didn't know it was like that, I just thought-"

Thought what? What had he thought? That he wasn't really hurting anyone? That it wasn't that big a deal?

No, he hadn't thought that, because he hadn't thought at all.

"And you're gonna stand here and tell me I'm an asshole." Danny was almost sobbing as he raggedly spat out each word. "Because I won't forgive you for something you never even apologised for. This is the first time you even acknowledged that you were an absolute jerk to me, and you followed it up by demanding that I just get over it."

Dash stared down at the floor, it sounded terrible when Danny put it like that.

"I wasn't... demanding anything." he said, he was embarrassed by how whiny he sounded. "I was just trying to make it up to you, I was trying, I just thought... it's not fair that I can't have second chance. I was trying so hard and all I wanted was a second chance-"

"I DON'T CARE." Danny's eyes were screwed up tight, but it didn't stop the tears of fury from pouring down his cheeks, his voice so shredded with pain it was barely recognisable. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU. I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT. I DON'T OWE YOU A SECOND CHANCE. I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING. YOU FUCKED ME UP AND YOU. CAN'T. FIX IT."

Dash didn't know what to do. Danny was openly sobbing, his breaths came out in grunts as he couldn't hold the rage and misery back.

He was still standing within arm's reach, Dash cautiously put out a hand, to comfort him? He wasn't sure, but he barely brushed Danny's shoulder before Dash found himself spinning violently and his cheekbone exploded with sudden pain as he hit the floor. Cold hands drew away from him roughly.

"DON'T TOUCH ME." Danny screamed. "DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

Dash watched as Danny grabbed his backpack and his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

It was over, just like that it was over.

Dash sat up and touched his face, he wasn't bleeding but he knew it would bruise pretty bad. It hurt, he would be squinting through one eye for a few days.

Danny could have done this to him at any time, he could have done it to him every day if he wanted, and maybe he would, now that he'd done it once.

The thought made Dash feel cold as dread pooled in his stomach.

The next day Dash told people he'd gotten his black eye from playing football, his team knew it wasn't true, but they didn't ask. He kept his eye out for Danny, wondering if he would pop up invisibly and knock him off his feet, or drag him through the floor, or hit him when nobody was looking.

He clung to Kwan's side all day, afraid to be alone.

Phantom could be anywhere, he could get him anywhere, if he wanted to hurt Dash nobody would be able to stop him.

Nobody had been able to stop Dash, and he didn't even have superpowers.

But in the end, nothing happened.

Dash went through the day untouched. Danny didn't even look his way. Not once. He just acted like yesterday never happened.

But it did happen, Dash still had the bruise on his cheek, and the terror set deep in his bones.

In the following days, weeks, months, Danny still never touched him, never looked at him, never talked to him. Dash realised that Danny probably wasn't going to do anything else after all, that maybe he hadn't even meant to hurt him in the first place.

He was a hero after all, he protected people, even people he didn't like. The only time he had ever come into contact with Dash again was to haul him out of the way of a ghost, and he did so with the same care as he would with anyone else.

Danny wasn't like him, he didn't gloat about hurting him, he didn't revel in the fact that Dash was scared of him. He just went about his day, acting for all the world like Dash didn't even exist.

Dash never gave him a true apology, it was clear Danny didn't want one, it was far too late for that.

It left Dash with a sick feeling of unfulfillment. He understood now what Danny had been going through, the pain, the terror, he wanted Danny to know that he was truly sorry, that he really had changed this time.

But he couldn't, because forcing an unwanted apology on him would just make Dash the asshole all over again, he was trying to steal a forgiveness that he could never have.

So he had to find his closure somewhere else.

He stopped picking on Mikey, and Nathan, and all of the other nerds he frequently hassled. He even tried apologising to them, some forgave him, others didn't, and he had to be okay with that. He struggled not to lash out, it still felt unfair, the world had always told him that you were supposed to forgive people when they apologised. It always happened that way on tv, in the cartoons he grew up watching. The mean kid would apologise, the other kids would forgive him, and they would all become friends.

He was realising that the real world was a whole lot more complicated than that, he didn't earn forgiveness just because apologising was hard, he was learning fast that he didn't earn any brownie points for taking responsibility for his actions. He was just doing what any decent person should.

It took him a while to come to terms with that, to stop being angry at people for not letting him make it up to them. For not letting him prove that he had changed.

All it took was to occasionally pass by Danny in the hallways for him to cool his jets and think more clearly. To remind him that he was the bad guy, he was the one who hurt people, that his victims did not owe him anything.

In his last year of school, he had found himself watching the juniors below him falling into the same behaviours, the same struggle for power and control. Pushing other kids around without so much as sparing a thought to how it made them feel.

After a lengthy chat with Mr Lancer, Dash was given permission to pull out younger students from detention one day a week. He would talk to them, ask about their lives, ask about their feelings. He would ask why they lashed out, why they thought it was okay to treat people that way. Most of them didn't have an answer, or simply refused to give one, but he would push, he wouldn't let them hide in ignorance like he did.

Some of them did feel guilt for the way they treated people, and they only needed someone they could talk to who could understand what they were going through, so they wouldn't take it out on whoever was around at the time.

Others would take more effort, they need a far stronger push in the right direction, they were defensive and combative, selfish and unapologetic.

Dash had been one of those kids, he knew they would be hard work, but he did his best. He couldn't help all of them, some were simply unwilling to change.

So he contacted the school-board, he pushed for better protection for students, more programs to help troubled kids, he volunteered to keep running his own counselling groups even after he graduated.

It still never felt like enough.

After graduation he turned down his favoured college to attend one closer to home so he could continue his volunteer work. He joined petitions and rallies for change across entire school districts, he spoke at other schools' anti-bullying campaigns. He'd attended enough of them in his own childhood that he knew they did next to nothing, but it gave him the opportunity to reach out to kids for one on one support.

He found more volunteers for his counselling groups, he helped people start them up in other local schools. It was a lot of work, especially when he was also juggling his college studies. He was taking a major in psychology, it was brutal, Dash had never been good at studying, but he'd decided that this was what he needed to do, this was important to him.

It still wasn't enough.

It would come at him in the night, as soon as he laid his head down on his pillow. He would see the faces of all the kids he hurt, it felt so much worse the older he got, they just looked younger and younger every time the memories came back to plague him.

He had beat the shit out of children. Kids who were the same age as the students he now counselled. He beat them until they were bloody or bruised, he shoved them into lockers, pulled pranks that humiliated them in front of the whole school, and he had laughed.

He'd laughed at their pain.

When the guilt weighed him down, he would begin searching for new programs to volunteer for, new petitions or rallies to get behind, always finding another way to help protect kids like Danny from kids like him.

And to protect kids like him from doing things that would one day haunt them.

He had spread himself thin across every school in the district, barely keeping afloat at college, but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

Kids still slipped through the cracks, schools were still too lenient, there were too many kids, not enough volunteers.

Casper High was holding another anti-bullying assembly. It had been a few years since Dash had attended one at his old school. This year they had excitedly announced that they'd even secured an appearance from Phantom himself.

Dash's blood ran cold, his hands shook as he went over his notes, he was slated to do his speech alongside Phantom's, they would be sharing the stage for a solid 75 minutes, barely a few feet from one another.

When Danny showed up he was already in Phantom form, Dash spotted him discussing emergency exit plans with one of the organisers in the event of a ghost attack.

He was so different from when they were in school.

He was tall, and broad, he stood with confidence and had a good natured charm to him. He was a hero, he was strong, he was brave. He could fight monsters ten times his size with a smirk and a witty one liner. He could take on anything, he wasn't afraid of anything.

He was a kid, running down a hallway, screaming words that still pierced through Dash's mind every time he saw the hero's face.

"DON'T TOUCH ME."

Dash's hands clenched around his notes, shaking so violently that they barely even looked like words.

"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

"Dash?"

A deep voice cut through the chaos in Dash's mind as cold hands closed over his tremblings ones.

"It's good to see you again."

Phantom was smiling at him, his hands still closed around Dash's.

"Good... good to see you too." Dash mumbled, not able to meet the man's eyes.

Phantom paused before releasing Dash's hands.

"I've heard all about your work." Phantom grinned as Dash finally looked up and met his eyes.

"Yeah." he said, and then before his mind could catch up with his mouth, he blurted out, "I'm sorry, for everything."

Phantom's eyebrows rose for a moment, before he gave a gentle smile and clapped a hand on Dash's shoulder.

"I know." he said warmly. "Thank you."

They gave their speeches, Dash had told his story many times before, the victim that he'd pushed to breaking point, the boy whose words drove the change that made him the man he had become.

For the first time ever, that boy was listening.

After the assembly had packed up and the volunteers were heading home, it was Danny Fenton who approached Dash and asked if he wanted to go grab a beer together.

Dash thought it would be rather awkward, but Danny had plenty of experience socialising with the public, awkwardness slid right off him, and soon enough Dash found himself laughing alongside Danny as he told a story about the new misadventures of the Box Ghost.

He returned to his dorm that night, head still swimming from one too many beers, and he had the best sleep of his life.

He pulled back on some of his volunteer work, hunting for new people to take his place as he focused on college. He was falling far behind, but he would work hard to make his way back. As a volunteer he could only do so much, but with the right education and training, he could do so much more.

The guilt still haunted him, every so often when the pressure and the stress weighed heavy, it would creep back into his mind. It would probably never go away, not entirely, but at least now he had his closure.

Finally, it was enough.

[skzsauce01]

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

[dreamerstreamer]

Driver’s License

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: [High School!AU] You’ve had a crush on Clay ever since he was first assigned to be your lab partner, and you finally muster up the courage to confess your feelings to him. But sometimes, not everything goes the way you hope it does.

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: this was requested by an anon who wanted some angst inspired by olivia rodrigo’s driver’s license! i hope i captured the right mood with the setting and story, and i sincerely hope you enjoy! <3

You glanced down at your phone, your thumb pressing on the power button before the screen flickered to life. The time flashed back at you in a white, clean font, and you chewed on your lip, your toes curling in your shoes.

There were only seven minutes until the bell—he was going to be late, wasn’t he?

Sighing, you picked up your phone and pushed your thumb against the home button, opening up your text messages. You scrolled down the list of contacts that stared back at you, your thumb hovering the one name that sent your head spinning in a flurry of pink hearts and white stars.

Clay.

Of all the people to have a crush on, of course it just had to be him. After all, how could you not fall for him? He was tall, cute, funny, and, well—he was a dream come true. It was almost like the universe had just set you up to fall, and really, you had no one to blame but yourself. It wasn’t like he liked you back, either. He was the cool, fun quarterback that was friends with everyone, while your only claim to fame was that you were his lab partner.

Should I text him? you wondered, fidgeting your fingers. I feel like I should text him. I know we’re technically just lab partners, but we’ve texted about other things, too. It wouldn’t be weird if I just asked him where he was, ri—

“Hey, you.”

You whipped your head up, immediately shutting your phone with one hand as your eyes wide went wide, your heart tripping in your chest. Standing by the desk next to you, Clay waved, amusement flickering across his face at your shocked expression.

“Hi, Clay,” you said, suddenly feeling breathless all at once. You could already feel the warmth blossoming in your chest, as his eyes locked onto yours. You really were too gone for your own good.

Sliding into his seat, he flashed you a bright grin as he dropped his bag onto the space beside him. “What’s up? Anything exciting happen to you?”

You turned away from your notebook with a soft smile. “Not really.” Trying to force down the heat crawling up your neck, you wagged a finger at him, a teasing lilt seeping into your words. “But you, my friend, are actually early—for once.” You shot him a thumbs up, winking. “Congratulations.”

Unzipping his backpack, Clay rolled his eyes at you, something like amusement flirting across his face. “Look,” he said, rummaging through his bag, “not all of us can be as early as you.”

Your lips twitched, and you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest with a triumphant look. “Well, I’ll have you know that I drove myself here today.”

He froze, his hand pausing as he looked up to blink at you with wide, fascinated eyes. “You did?” A grin slowly spread across his face, and he pulled out a notebook before setting his bag back down on the ground. “Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nodded your head eagerly, electricity buzzing up your skin as you pulled out your wallet from behind you. “It sure does!” Flipping it open, you held out a small, plastic card towards his face with a giddy smile. “I got my license.”

In an instant, he was cheering, his eyes as wide as saucers as he clapped his hands in celebration. You had half the mind to be embarrassed that more than just a few people were looking at you now, but you were far more focused on Clay. “Woah, congrats!” he said, lifting a hand tentatively toward you. “Can I...?”

You nodded, watching as he gently pulled your license from your fingers. He turned it over in his hands once, his lips curling up into a crooked grin before he tapped at your photo. “Look at you,” he said, mirth dancing through his emerald gaze. “They got your good side.”

You raised a brow at him, holding your palm out toward him. “Are you saying I have a bad side?”

Clay shook his head, sliding the card back between your fingers and your hands brushing. A spark ran up your fingertips at the touch, sending a dizzying surge of heat rushing into your chest. “Nah. Every side is your good side.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he turned back to his desk, his gaze leaving yours. Your fingers curled tighter around your license, and you swallowed. How could he say something like that so casually? It was so unfair. You already liked him enough, and then he just had to go and say something like that. Of course. Stupid, dumb, handsome Clay. It was not your fault he was so... attractive. Totally.

After a long moment, your fingers curled a fraction tighter around your license, the plastic digging into your skin as you softly said, “Thanks.”

He waved a hand at you, his eyes curving into crescent moons. “Anytime.”

Your stomach tightened into a knot in your gut, tingling elation shooting through you and wrapping around your lungs. Tucking your license back into one of the wallet flaps, you watched as he flipped his notebook open to a blank page, quickly scribbling the date in the corner of the paper with a focused gaze. With a reluctant sigh, you tore your eyes away from him to look back at your own paper, pretending to write something down that wasn’t just his name. It was almost embarrassing how easily you could just stare and get lost in everything he did. You never thought you would be one of those people, yet here you were.

“Hey, by the way,” he suddenly said, his voice making you jump while his eyes flickered to meet yours, “do you happen to have any plans for Friday?”

Catching your breath, your pencil stopped in its tracks on the page. Friday? You furrowed your brows, the cogs in your head churning before you slowly nodded. “I think so.” A grimace tugged at your lips, and you held back a quiet groan. “I’ve got a project due on Monday that I need to get done, but I can’t work on it until Friday, so...” You gestured vaguely. “You know.”

There was a moment of silence, and Clay’s lips curled into a slight frown. “Oh,” he said. “I see.”

You could have sworn you saw disappointment flit through his face, but it was gone in an instant. Leaning toward him, your eyebrows knit together in concern. “Hey,” you murmured softly, “is something wrong?”

In a flash, he was smiling again, and you couldn’t tell he had been frowning even a split second earlier. “No, no, I was just curious, that’s all.” He raised his hand toward you, tapping a finger against your nose. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

Your cheeks burst with warmth, his eyes brightening at the way your lips curled. Reeling back, you raised your chin at him, huffing. “Hey, this pretty little head is the one saving you from a C in chemistry, right now.”

He chuckled, his arm dropping back down to his side as he leaned back in his seat. “You sure are, and I hope you knows how much that means to me.”

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest. All at once, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Did he... could he—?

“Good morning, everyone.”

You jumped at the sound of your chemistry teacher’s voice, your hand tightening around your pencil as you watched him send your class a smile. “I hope you all had a good weekend. Today, we’ll be...”

Soon enough, you were already tuning him out, your mind drifting back to Clay’s words.

I hope you knows how much that means to me.

Something soft and fuzzy rolled over in your stomach, and you felt hope bubbling up in your throat.

Maybe your crush wasn’t as one-sided as you thought it was.

You dashed through the halls, your backpack bouncing against your shoulder as you weaved in between groups of friends leaning against the lockers and couples holding hands as they walked. You stifled a curse as you dodged someone’s arm, grumbling to yourself as you finally pushed past the doors that led outside. Couldn’t people learn to just not stand in the middle of the hall? People needed to get places—people like you.

Inhaling the fresh, spring air, you bounded across the dewy grass toward the familiar picnic table underneath the school’s willow tree. It was the only spot on school grounds that actually had enough shade to keep your head from overheating in the simmering Florida sun, so naturally, it became your and Wilbur’s go-to spot for lunch.

As the bench drew nearer, you felt your face brighten, spotting Wilbur already sitting in his usual spot, his beanie askew atop his head. The two of you were unlikely friends, to say the least, but after having spent years living next to each other, you were more than proud to call him your best friend, even if he did make you want to smack him more often than not.

Wilbur offered you a brief wave as you finally reached the bench, tugging open his sandwich bag with his other hand. Above you, the willow tree swayed, the branches and leaves scattering sunlight across his face. “Hey, how was chem—”

“Today, our hands touched when I showed him my license,” you blurted, not even pausing for breath.

Wilbur blinked at you once, stunned for a brief moment. Then, a groan flew from his lips, and he pressed two fingers to his temple, grimacing. “[Y/N],” he said, drawing out the syllables of your name, “I can’t keep doing this.”

You blinked as you sat down in the space across from him, dropping your bag onto the seat with a thud. “Keep doing what?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Keep listening to you endlessly pine over Clay without doing anything about it.” At your bewildered expression, he sighed, taking another bite of his sandwich as he pushed his glasses up further onto his face. “It’s been, what? Four months, at this point?”

“Five,” you said immediately.

He stared at you. “Five,” he repeated. When you nodded, his frown deepened. “You do realize how bad that sounds, right?”

A wave of embarrassment crashed over you, and you curled back into yourself,  grumbling, “Let me live my life.”

“Not like this, I won’t.” Wilbur leaned over the table with a firm look, pointing his finger at you. “You need to ask him out.”

Your eyes widened at his words, and you felt your jaw drop open in disbelief. “No way,” you said, slapping your hands onto the table. “Absolutely not. I am not doing... that.”

You could practically see Wilbur’s impatience wearing thin, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “[Y/N]. C’mon. You like him—it’s so obvious.”

You opened your mouth to shoot back, then shook your head, closing it—Wilbur knew you too well to even try. “Probably, but not to Clay. To him, I’m just his lab partner.”

“His cute lab partner,” he pointed out, lifting a finger. “Who is also pretty, and smart, and funny, and interesting and—”

The smile was stretching across your face before you could stop it, and you whined, feeling your chest grow warm with genuine appreciation. “Stop, please.”

Wilbur’s lips split into a teasing grin, and he poked a finger to your side. “You know I’m only calling it like I see it.”

When you glowered at him, he only laughed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. Scoffing, you reached your arm toward him. “Well, if it’s only as much as you’re seeing it,” you said, “I guess I’ll just have to take these, then.”

Before he could react, your hand had wrapped around the side of his glasses, and you were pulling them off his face in a whirl. He jumped at the sudden change, and you watched as he fumbled with his sandwich, gaping at you as he whipped around. “Hey, give those back!”

You leaned back, sticking your tongue out at him as you held them above and behind your head. “Not until you stop.”

Now, it was his turn to glare at you, and he clenched his jaw with a long exhale. “Fine,” he said, focusing his attention back to his lunch. “I guess I just won’t tell you what’s happening on Friday, then.”

His glasses went limp in your hand, and your voice dropped down to a meek whisper. “There’s something happening on Friday?”

Wilbur only shrugged, humming softly. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Resting your elbows on top of the table, you pursed your lips, leaning forward to scan his face. “Will,” you said, your tone firm and demanding, “please tell me. Clay asked me if I was free on Friday and now I regret telling him no—you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

Wilbur lifted his head to meet your gaze, a look of pure shock and disbelief shooting across his face. “He asked you if you were free and you said no?” He paused for a moment, then sighed for what must have been the millionth time. “Maybe you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

You scowled, but didn’t say anything. Instead, you lifted your head to slide his glasses across the table toward him. “Here,” you said, the tiniest tinge of desperation soaking into your voice, “I’ll even give these back.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, picking up his glasses with a soft whistle. “That was easier than I thought,” he murmured, ignoring the glare you shot him. Sliding his glasses back onto his face with practiced ease, he turned his attention back to you with a gleam in his eye. “Fine then, I’ll tell you.”

You held your breath as he leaned forward, opening his mouth. “There’s a football game on Friday,” he said, “and Chrissy’s throwing a party for after the game.”

You stared at him, then frowned, confusion swirling in your eyes. “Chrissy?” you parroted.

Wilbur nodded. “Yes, Chrissy.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. While you didn’t really know Chrissy yourself, you most definitely knew of her. That was the case for a lot of people in your school. After all, how could you not know Chrissy? She was the head cheerleader and practically the face of the school. With shiny, golden hair and a dazzling smile that put the sun to shame, it was basically impossible to miss her—you’d have to be blind to.

On one hand, you wanted to believe she was stuck-up and catty like all the cheerleaders you saw in movies, but deep down, you knew you had no right to make that judgement. People said she was nice, and you had never spoken to her yourself, so who were you to stereotype her? But on the other....

“What does Chrissy have anything to do with this?” you blurted, your eyes scanning his face for even a hint of something more. “We’re talking about Clay, not her.”

Wilbur only stared blankly at you, his eye twitching in agony. “How you pass your classes and still manage to be this dense is beyond me.”

You let out a groan, hanging your head in your hands. “Wilbur, you know I’m stupid. Now, will you please just get to the point?”

Wilbur dragged a hand over the bottom half of his face, sucking in a deep breath before lifting a hand toward you. “Chrissy is the cheer captain, [Y/N]. Clay is the quarterback. It’s an after-game party. He’s definitely going to be there.”

Silence washed over the two of you, and for an excruciatingly long minute, you simply stared at him, the dots slowly connecting in your head to form a full picture. After a few moments, Wilbur sighed again and looked away, giving you some time to think. Your head spun with thoughts of Friday, Clay, and your project, and you watched distractedly as Wilbur shoved the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth, chewing while you eyed him up and down.

A party, huh? you thought to yourself. Maybe, just maybe...

Just like that, something suddenly snapped inside you, and you felt your chest swell with determination. You could not believe you were about to do this.

“Wilbur,” you said, calm and slow, “this changes everything.” When he silently cocked a brow at you, you tightened your jaw. “We’re going to that football game, then we’re going to Chrissy’s party.”

He nodded, only half-listening as he stuffed his now empty sandwich bag into his pocket. “Sure, yeah, good for yo—wait.“ He froze, and you almost let yourself feel a sliver of pride as he gaped at you. “You said we.”

You ignored the sense of slow, sinking horror settling into your gut as you swallowed, squeezing your hands into tight fists. “Yeah—we. Because I’m going to need the moral support.”

Wilbur blinked once. Twice. Then, a slow grin began to spread across his face, and you could already tell you were about to regret telling him that. “Does this mean you’re gonna—?”

You swallowed thickly, your throat bobbing as you threw back your shoulders and nodded, firm and true. “I’m going to confess to Clay.”

Wilbur was on his feet in an instant, his hand shooting forward to clap you on the shoulder. “Attagirl!” Pulling back, he crossed his arms over his chest, smiling eagerly. “Sure then, I’ll come with. But you’re driving.”

You furrowed your brows at him, pulling yourself up until you were also standing. “You know I’ve only had my license for, like, half a week.”

He slung his arm over your shoulder, his lips twitching at the way you stumbled at his sudden movement. “That’s all the more reason to celebrate. Let’s go get ice cream.”

You gaped, somehow even more confused than before. “Celebrate? What are we celebrating? My driver’s license?”

Reaching down, Wilbur patted your head, grinning brightly. “You’ve made a step forward to finally being less of a wimp. That’s something.”

You sent him another glare, but shoved your hand into your pocket nonetheless. A few moments of rummaging later, you pulled out your parents’ car keys with a defeated sigh. “You’re lucky I like ice cream. But don’t blame me if I crash the car.”

“Hey,” he said, unwrapping his arm from its spot on your shoulder to pick up his bag, “even if you do, at least that way I’ll miss my stats test tomorrow.”

You gasped, frowning at him as you smacked his arm. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he simply hummed at you, his eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “Sometimes, the truth hurts,” he said, “and you just have to accept it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he waved a hand, gesturing to your backpack. “Enough of the melodrama, though—get your stuff. I want ice cream.”

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes at him again, leaning down to grab your backpack with one hand and your keys with the other. As the two of you began to make your way across the field, squinting past the blinding sunlight, you felt your heart flutter in anticipation.

Friday—you could wait for Friday.

The roaring applause was absolutely deafening around you as the football slammed into the grass, claps and shouts ringing across the bleachers like nothing you’ve heard before. On the other side of the field, you watched as the cheerleaders shook their pom-poms, Chrissy landing a flip in front of the crowd with a stunning grin. With a slight wince, you grimaced, your eyes flickering to the scoreboard. Your team was losing 24 to 37, but from the way everyone was yelling, you’d have thought they had just won a war. Did they just get a point, or...?

“You don’t know anything about football, do you?”

You whirled around, tearing your eyes away from the scoreboard to find Wilbur sitting beside you with a bucket of popcorn sitting on his lap. You frowned at his unimpressed look, resolve etched into your features. “I know things. Like, um—” You paused for a second. “Like, Clay is the quarterback.”

A sardonic smile stretched across his face, and he cocked his head at you. “That’s great,” he drawled. “But do you know what a quarterback does?”

You stiffened, digging your thumb into the palm of your hand. “Plays football?” you offered sheepishly.

Wilbur deadpanned, picking at a stray thread on his mustard yellow sweater. “You’re hopeless.”

You let out a whine, burying your face in your hands to at least try to ignore the aching warmth creeping onto your cheeks, a prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. “I’m trying, okay?”

A hand settled onto your shoulder, familiar and warm. “I know, I know,” he murmured, sounding reassuring for once, “and I’m proud of you for that.”

You lifted your head, your wide eyes meeting his earnest ones. “Really?”

He smiled. “Really. But,” he added, something flashing in his gaze, “as your best friend, it is also my responsibility to clown you at every given opportunity.”

You pushed his arm off your shoulder with a pout. “You’re right, but I hate that you’re right.”

With a chuckle, he stuck his hand into the bucket on his lap, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Look,” he said, casting a worried glance at you, “I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little—you look like you’re stressed out of your mind.”

Your voice came out louder than you would have liked, your nails digging into your palms. “Because I am! I am, okay? He...” You trailed off for a moment, searching for the right words. “...he means a lot to me, and I really like him.”

Wilbur’s gaze grew soft, his hold on the popcorn bucket growing loose. “I know you do.” He paused for a moment, then nudged your shoulder with his. “Tell you what,” he began, “if we win the game, you tell him, but if we lose, we can just go home.”

You stared at him, the weight on your shoulders suddenly feeling a lot less heavy. “Seriously?”

He nodded, his lips quirking. “Yes. I don’t want to push you into doing something you’ll regret.”

You turned back to the scoreboard once more, your gaze darting back and forth between the 24 on the sign and the grass. Down below, you caught a glimpse of a uniform with the number one plastered across the back dashing across the field as the crowd cheered. The gears in your head whirred, and you felt your gut churn. Did you really want to leave and give up, now? Were you really okay with that?

Memories of emerald green eyes and loud peals of laughter flashed across your mind, and you felt your chest grow hot.

“Okay,” you breathed, quiet yet firm. “Okay, I think I—”

You stopped, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. Sucking in another breath, your eyelids shot open and you swallowed. “I can do this.” Your eyes flitted to Wilbur’s. “Yeah?” You nodded to yourself. “Yeah.”

Wilbur sucked on the inside of his cheek, his fingers nervously tapping on the side of the popcorn bucket. “We can still go home, it’s okay. We can leave now if you wa—”

You shook your head, and his words fell quiet. “No,” you sighed, feeling both nervous and relieved. “No. I’m gonna do it.”

His fingers stopped, surprise seeping into his expression. “You are?”

You watched as the football soared across the air, spinning in a perfect spiral. Something inside you flipped, and you found the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I am.”

Flashing lights scattered broken rays of rainbows across the ceiling, moving bodies jumping and dancing against one another as their eyes glimmered with excitement. Some pop song you were pretty sure you had heard on the radio that morning was blasting through the speakers, making the floor shake beneath your feet. You blinked down at your shoes, feeling your arms tingle at your side with discomfort.

“I kind of regret doing this.”

Beside you, Wilbur let out a long sigh, shaking his head as he poured himself another glass of... whatever he had been drinking. “I literally told you we could leave earlier.”

Your hand trembled at your side, your thumb pressing against your side as you shuffled back and forth anxiously. “Do not remind me, please. I’m already on the verge of losing my mind right about now.”

Wilbur glanced down at you, taking in your shaking lip and nervous expression, then smiled, bending over slightly so that he was eye-level with you. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice still reaching your ear despite the deafening music, “you’ve got this, okay?” He pushed his cup toward you, gently tapping your arm with it. “I’m still here for you, even if goes badly. Remember that.”

The sting crawling up your spine grew a little fainter at his words, and you bit your lip, shooting him a sheepish smile. “Thanks. I’ll, um, find you later?”

Reaching his hand up, he ruffled your hair with a reassuring smile. “Of course. Go on, now.” Patting your back one last time, he bumped his side into yours playfully, pushing you forward. “You can do it.”

You pursed your lips one last time, willing the butterflies in your stomach to die down before turning on your heel and making your way through the house. You could do this—yeah, you definitely could! What was the worst that could happen?

You stepped past wild movements and braying laughter, weaving your way through the maze that was Chrissy’s house as your eyes swept over the bustling crowd. You never knew Chrissy lived in such a nice place, but really, you weren’t all that surprised, and you weren’t really complaining. After all, it was a nice party, and more than a great place to celebrate your school’s victory.

Although you would wished that it wasn’t as big as it was, if only so you could actually find Clay.

As you slowly pushed against the torrent of mingling people, your mind began to wander. I wonder if I look okay. Does my hair still look alright after Wilbur messed with it? He better not have ruined it. Or maybe Clay would find it cute? Your face burned, and you shook your head to yourself, muttering under your breath. You weren’t sure anymore, but you could tell that the nerves were starting to get to you.

You found your pushing into the kitchen, nearly toppling over someone’s leg as the dangling lights came into view. Reaching forward, you grabbed onto the counter to balance yourself, blood pumping in your ears. Were parties always this crazy, or was everyone just high off the adrenaline from the game? You couldn’t tell.

It was then that a voice called out over the deafening music echoing in your ears. “Yo, [Y/N]!”

You whirled at the sound of your name, your eyes scanning the kitchen for the owner’s voice before landing on a familiar face leaning up against the counter. “Sapnap?” you said, eyes widening as you walked over.

Sapnap flashed you a welcoming smile, raising his cup to his lips to take a small sip. “Hey,” he said, his voice somehow sailing across the blaring bass, “it’s good to see you. I feel like you never come to parties.”

You nodded, tucking some hair behind your ear as you offered him a sheepish smile, shrugging. “Just thought it would be nice to spend some a night out for once, you get me?” It was right when Sapnap nodded that you gasped, clapping your hands together. “Oh, by the way, have you seen Clay?”

Sapnap paused, fiddling with his cup. “Clay? I’m pretty sure he was with Chrissy out in the backyard.”

He jutted his head toward the glass, sliding door on the opposite side of the room, and you sent him a grateful grin. “Awesome, thanks.” Raising your hand in a wave, you turned. “See you around!”

He raised his cup in return, smiling back at you. “See ya.”

Your anxiety had blossomed into excitement now, a grin tugging at your lips as you leapt around the dining table and grabbed the door handle, sliding it open with a grunt. Stepping outside, you heard the splashing of the pool and bursts of giggles echo around you, washing the dim, evening clouds with a pale, swimming glow. Like the rest of her house, Chrissy’s backyard was big—bigger than you’d have thought. With a pool and a gazebo to boot, you were shocked by how unsurprised you were.

Sapnap said he was out here last time he saw him, you thought, wiping your damp palms on your bottoms. Your heart raged against your rib cage, beating wildly as you sucked in a deep breath. I guess it’s now or nothing.

Plastering a smile to your face, you lifted your head, taking a step forward only for your eyes to catch on someone moving in the gazebo.

Your heart stopped.

Tucked away under the gazebo’s arching roof, there sat Clay, his arm wrapped around Chrissy’s waist as he gazed at her with warm, fond eyes. He dipped his head down to whisper something into her ear, and you could only watch as she giggled, tilting his head down to press her lips against his in a soft, sweet peck.

Your lungs were constricted in your chest, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe. Every breath you took felt like a weight of bricks had been set into your bones, your vision hyper focusing on the sight lying a few feet away from you.

Her hands in his. His eyes focused on her. The sound of her laughter, light and pure. The flash of his smile, loving and kind.

He... Clay... and Chrissy...?

It was almost as you had ducked your head into the pool, everyone’s voices sounding murky and unfamiliar. Beside you, you could vaguely make out the conversation of two girls chatting away with one another, their smiles bright and gazes eager.

“Hey,” one murmured, “do you know how long Clay and Chrissy have been together?”

The other paused. “I think he asked her out after they won the game, right when everyone was coming over. Romantic, right?”

There was a gasp. “Really? That’s so cute. They’re perfect together, aren’t they? Head cheerleader with the quarterback—” A dramatic sigh. “—it’s like a movie or something.”

You heard a noise of affirmation. “And they’re both so nice. Like, gosh, no wonder they ended up together.”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, your eardrums ringing inside your head. The world suddenly felt like it was a million miles away, like you were hearing everything through a tunnel as you stumbled your way back toward the house. Voices chatted around you and bodies jostled you as you walked, but all you could think about was the thought of Clay’s lips pressed to Chrissy’s, the image burned to the back of your eyelids.

Wilbur, you thought through the jumbled mess of your thoughts. I need to find Wilbur. Where is he?

Someone laughed beside you—it sounded too much like Clay. Everything was too loud, too bright. You were going to be sick.

Just then, a swathe of mustard yellow caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and in an instant, you were turning on your heel, pushing past strangers and acquaintances alike with only one goal in mind. Wilbur was taking to someone you recognized as Eret, the British transfer student from a little while back. They looked like they were getting along well, what with the way Wilbur was smiling, but right now, you couldn’t wait another second to get your best friend’s attention.

The moment you reached him, your hand was already gripping onto his arm, tugging at him. “Wilbur,” you said shakily, feeling like your knees were about to give out, “we need to leave. Right now.”

Wilbur turned, the bright lights making his eyes gleam in the dimness. “Oh, [Y/N], how’d it g—” His smile fell from his face the second his eyes met yours, worry flooding his features. “What happened?”

Your throat felt tight as you curled your fingers tighter into his sweater, the fabric bunching up in your hand. “Wilbur, please.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, then he nodded, his gaze softening. “Okay.” Turning, he sent a quick wave to Eret, muttering some excuse before dipping his head closer to you and placing his hand on the small of your back. “I’ll drive,” he murmured. “Where to?”

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest, a small, tight noise leaving you as your lips struggled to form a sentence. “I don’t know—my house... yours... the park?” You clung to his arm like an anchor, half-feeling like you would drift off into the endless sea without him. “Just... anywhere but here.”

Wilbur scanned your face, his fingers twitching against your backside before he nodded, nudging you forward ever so slightly. “Park it is.”

You were only vaguely aware of being pulled away from the party, walking down the front steps of the house and into the passenger seat of the car as Wilbur turned on the ignition. Your vision grew blurry as you felt hot tears begin to stream down your cheeks, the world outside the car windows turning into a hazy mess of colour and shadows. Inside your chest, you felt the shards of your heart dig against your lungs. Heartbroken didn’t even begin to describe the anguish you felt.

At least you weren’t the one driving.

You kicked your legs back and forth on the squeaky swing set, the loud creaking digging into your skull like a thought you couldn’t shake. Your insides felt heavy underneath your skin, and you felt the back of your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes slowly lifted to meet Wilbur’s, who was standing in front of you, his face contorted in concern as he quietly waited for you to respond. “I...” you began softy, swallowing. “I’m not sure.”

He simply watched you for a moment, then nodded, murmuring a soft, “That’s okay.”

In the distance, you could see a lamppost flickering in the darkness, the light fading in and out of view like it was just barely grappling to stay afloat. A wave of sadness rolled over you at the sight, although you couldn’t name why, as you found yourself opening your mouth, the words tumbling from your lips in incoherent sentences.

“It’s just... I just... I, um. I—” You stopped, letting your eyes fall shut before you managed to whisper, “He was with Chrissy, you know?”

Wilbur froze, his eyes slowly widening as he took in your words. “He was?”

You nodded your head, something cold and broken rattling in your chest at the movement. “Yeah.”

Fury flashed across his face like a wildfire, and he crouched down before you, his jaw clenched tightly. “Even after he asked you if you had plans...” He scowled, cursing under his breath. “What a prick.”

You let out a soft laugh, but it felt forced, the smile immediately slipping off your face the moment you closed your mouth. “He was all over her, you could tell,” you whispered, clutching your arms tighter around yourself. “He was looking at her like... I dunno, like she had done something wonderful, like she was the greatest thing in the world.”

The back of your eyelids stung, and you sucked in a shuddering breath. The hollow hole in the pit of your stomach suddenly didn’t feel so empty anymore as something cold and sad began to pool around your lungs as you continued. “And like, gosh, just... you were right when you said the truth hurts, Will.” Beside you, you saw him since, his expression blurry from the tears starting to fill your eyes. “It hurts. A lot. It really, really does.”

Your hand clutched at the fabric covering your heart, almost as if you were trying to cradle the shattered pieces. “I know I can’t control his feelings, and I shouldn’t have expected anything,” you whispered, “but I just felt like we had something, you know? Like we could have been something. But now it’s all—”

Your voice suddenly cracked, your sentences cut off by an empty, choked out sob. Hot, wet droplets spilled down your cheeks, and you squeezed your eyes shut, your sides trembling. In an instant, Wilbur’s arms wrapped around you, and you felt him tug you into his chest, your head resting against his shoulder while you whimpered.

“Oh, [Y/N]...” he whispered, his hand stroking against your back.

You hiccuped against him, shaking like a leaf as you buried your face into his sweater. “I’m sorry for roping you into this—I really thought I had a chance, but what was I thinking? She’s Chrissy, and I’m just...” You sobbed. “I’m just...”

All of a sudden, Wilbur pulled you back from him, his hands gripping onto your shoulders tightly as his eyes bore into yours. “You’re you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your eyes going wide. Wh-What?

Before you, Wilbur’s fingers dug sternly into your shoulders, his stare unwavering as he spoke clearly and true. “Look,” he said, “I can’t tell you what he was thinking, and I can’t tell you why he did that. But...” He paused for a moment, and you watched his face soften as his tone grew warm.

“I can tell you that he just passed up the best girl in the whole, wide world.”

You felt tears prick your eyes once more, but this time they didn’t burn. “Y-You’re just saying that,” you whined, reaching a hand up to wipe at your eyes.

He shook you gently in his arms, prodding you with his hands. “I’m not, I promise, even if I do think you’re my loser best friend.”

When you laughed this time, it didn’t feel nearly as heavy as it did before. You caught a glimpse of his smile as you pressed the sleeve of your shirt against your eyes, soaking up your tears. “Thanks, Wilbur,” you whispered as you sent him a smile—a real one. “Really.”

He grinned at you, dropping his hands from your shoulders. “Anytime, [Y/N]. Now,” he said, rising to his feet, “how do you feel about getting ice cream?”

You blinked at him, taking in the sight of his glimmering eyes in the light of the shining moon. “Please don’t tell me you’re calling this a celebration.”

He shook his head, but you caught the way his lips twitched in amusement. “No. Sometimes you just get ice cream because it makes you feel better.” He stretched his hand out toward you. “Here.”

You slipped your fingers between his, letting him pull you up from the creaky swing set with a slight huff. Once you let go, you held your palm up toward him, waiting. “I’ll drive.”

He cocked his head at you, slowly pulling your keys out of the pockets of his jeans. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

You shook your head at him, picking the keys up from his palm. “It’s alright.” Tossing them once in your palm, you flashed him a grin. “Hey, if I crash the car, I won’t have to hand in that assignment on Monday.”

Wilbur blinked at you once, then twice. Then, he burst into laughter, clutching at his chest as he keeled over, wiping a tear from his eye as he smacked your arm with his. “You know what?” he gasped between breaths as he stood upright once more. “I’ll pay for ice cream, this time.”

A cheer tore itself from your lips, and you pumped your fist in the air as you went racing down the hill toward your car parked by the sidewalk, the wind whipping at your face. Behind you, you could hear Wilbur shout your name as he chased after you, his voice echoing into the cool, dark night.

Maybe things weren’t as bad as you thought. Clay was happy, and while you weren’t quite there yet yourself, you knew that one day, you would be, too.

After all, while the truth may hurt, it wasn’t all bad, either.

[ragingbookdragon]

Of Nights So Hollow, Of Legends So Great

Night Culture AU!Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Angst, Uh..Scary? I guess?

Author's Note: This is based on the wonderful @bunnvoid Night Culture AU and I felt compelled to write this at midnight because I couldn't stop thinking about it. Bunn, I hope I did your ideas justice! Honestly, I keep going back and forth between the drawings to make sure! I had fun writing it! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It was said that at the heart of every legend there was a grain of truth. Legends are just pieces of history fabricated beyond wildest belief, built upon by centuries of retelling, each story sewing a new thread into the tapestry from whence it came. But that’s all that legends are. Threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable.

***

The old castle was a legend. Perhaps not the castle itself, but what supposedly resided inside. Supernatural creatures that skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out fresh blood in the night. That was one form of the legend, if you believed it. The other form was that of creatures who skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out evil and destroying it where it plagued innocence.

The chateau lied in the midst of the Devilwood Wilds, just outside the City of Old Gotham. Even during the days when the sun would peek through the gray clouds, it appeared gloomy, blackened stone walls, charred shingles and shutters. The giant Devilwood and Shadow trees prevented sight of the doors of the castle; only the top could be seen, to get the real view, one would’ve had to go into the forest. There was another legend: the horrors of the Wilds.

Whispers on the school-grounds told of a creature, big and terrifying that could be summoned with ritual stones and fresh bat blood; those that summon the beast are never seen again. The adults were less convinced of the idea, though they still forbid their children from reaching even the edges of the forested area. Whilst they believed those that went in were never heard from again, it wasn’t from a creature eating them, but a lack of guidance. Starvation. Wild animals. The freezing fog that made your breath turn to frost.

Timothy remembers hearing those whispers when he passed the old schoolhouse. His mother and father didn’t let him interact with the common children, instead his lessons were taught by private tutors from the wealthiest lands, paid for with the Drake treasure of gold and gemstones.

What more so Timothy remembered was the inhuman being that appeared in his father’s manor, striking down his mother with a slash of black magic, his father following. He remembers the way his father’s eyes rolled back in his skull, fear spreading through his body as he hid in the corner of the room, whimpering and crying. And he most certainly remembered the cold hand of the demon sliding between his shoulder blades before it dug into his skin, piercing his flesh, laughing as he cried out in pain as pricks spread out along his back and down his arms.

Warmth bled down his back as black feathers pushed from his skin and Timothy panted as his fingernails grew in length, sharpening as they darkened. He remembered scrambling to his feet, darting away from the creature as he ran. Forgetting the corpses of his family and staff around him, throwing the door open, bursting into the night, and sprinting down the street, leaving a trail of bloody, black feathers in the direction of the Devilwood Wilds.

***

The first night was the least remembered but the darkest. Violent and corrupting nightmares slithering inside his head as he tossed and turned along the frigid ground in a feverish deathlike state, the wings at his back only growing in size.

The second night was less nightmare-ridden, but much more painful. Timothy had pierced a wing on a stray Devilwood tree, the syrup like poison only infecting the wound. He was hungry and cold. Exhausted and scared. He tried to remember all the books he read as a child of the knights facing the elements for a week in order to ascend knighthood; he couldn’t seem to recall a thing.

The third night seemed to be his last. He lay huddled up against a raised Shadow tree root, the ebony wood providing stability for his wounded wing. Timothy sniffled, dragging his knees to his chest as he lay his chin on his arms, ignoring the grumbling of his stomach as it ate itself in hunger.

A tree branch creaked above him, and he craned his neck up, eyes widening when he saw the glowing eyes of the masked creature. The legends were right. The creature’s head twisted sideways, reminding Timothy of an owl, then the other way, like it was observing him. It made a noise and he scrambled to the floor of the forest, curling his injured wing above his head and over his body to protect himself.

THUNK!

Timothy whimpered, ready to be torn to shreds, but when no vicious claws or snapping teeth came at him, he carefully peered between his open wing. There lie a satchel, as long as his forearm and as wide as his middle was. He looked up towards the tree branch to where the creature had sat, but there was nothing there anymore; he glanced around, it wasn’t in sight.

He blinked and shuffled towards the satchel, untying the drawstrings with fumbling clawed hands. Inside lay a pair of thick wool socks, a small blanket, and another small bag. Timothy pulled it from the satchel and opened it; half a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat the size of his hand were stowed inside.

Timothy forewent the etiquette he was taught as a child, giving into his ravenous desire as he devoured the meat. It was tender and juicy, the glaze a mixture of honey and cinnamon.

A memory flowed to his mind, the dinner after the rising of the first star, his family and staff all surrounding the dining table, a divine feast laid before them. The smiling faces of his mother and father stilled his hunger and he placed the food back in the satchel, uncurling the wool blanket. Timothy lay underneath the raised Shadow tree roots, one wing curled around him, and he fell into a restless sleep with tears frozen on his cheeks.

***

When he awoke the next morning, his wing was no longer torn and infected. A new feather had appeared where the wound had been. Timothy wanted to learn to fly. He’d owned a bird once. A Ruby Firebird, with long, crimson-colored feathers and big ruby eyes. It had been his only real friend and he’d watched it a lot. It couldn’t be that hard.

He stretched his wings out, unable to fight the urge to touch them with a single black claw. It tingled. Timothy blinked and beat them, unsure. He beat them again, this time a little harder, keeping at it until with each beat he was able to blow the long grass flat against the ground. A giddy smile came across his lips when the tips of his toes grazed the ground.

What he had not counted on was how tired he was going to get after only a few brief minutes of trying. His wings felt sore. Timothy would try again tomorrow to rise above the tall grass.

***

The creature would appear at odd times during the night and Timothy had stopped feeling the cold fear in his gut when it did. It never came near him; it just watched with the cocked head, back and forth, then would drop the satchel again and disappear. Sometimes there were scribbles inside. He didn’t know what they meant; but he knew the language. Thaatisgani. An old language his writing teacher had shown him one day. A language long died out amongst the common and even the elite folk.

Timothy wanted to know what it meant. He wanted to know what the creature was. His determination drew him to the front of the castle during the night of the harshest season storm. Lighting crackled across the sky, the thunder rolled along the clouds and the rain came down in torrents. He was freezing and soaked to the bone and the weight of his wings had him crawling up the steps, collapsing at the door.

He weakly raised a clawed hand, one nail scratching the black glazed door and he descended into darkness.

***

His mother liked to wear scented oils. They smelled of Queen’s Briar and Golden Belladonna. Before he was older, she used to let Timothy sit beside her when she would apply them to her wrist and ears. She would smile at him and tell him stories of far away lands.

Warmth spread across his eyes, and he rolled over in what he thought was his dream, only to roll onto the ground, landing awkwardly on his wings. Timothy whined and unfolded himself off the ground, rubbing his eyes, only to see the creature a hair’s breadth away from his face.

Timothy choked on his fear and scrambled away, only for the creature to grab his shoulder.

“Stay.”

He halted, looking back at it. “You speak the common tongue?”

The creature stared at him. “You are Timothy Drake. Son of Earl Drake.”

“I am,” Timothy responded, then looked at his hands. “But my family is…is dead.”

“Killed by a slithering demon from the Farstead realm.”

Tears prickled Timothy’s vision. “It killed my parents and cursed me.” He looked at the creature. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re cursed to believe what you think you are.” The creature waved a glowing hand and Timothy blinked in shock as the wings disappeared and his hands turned to normal. “It’s merely an illusion. You’ve only been tainted with cursed magic.”

It was much too complicated for Timothy to pull apart now. “Can I be healed?”

The creature blinked its glowing obs. “Cursed magic cannot be healed…but it can be trained.” They leaned forward, getting in his face. “I can teach you to control and transform.”

“You’re not going to eat me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“…Yes.”

“You hesitated just a bit right there.”

A bottle rolled out from the corner of the room and the creature sighed, turning its head to it. “Richard. Jason. Come here.”

Two young boys, not that much older than Timothy appeared from behind a corner, guilty looks on their faces as though they’d been caught eavesdropping.

The creature nodded to Timothy. “Take him upstairs. He is dirty and tired.”

The tallest one, Jason, crossed his arms over his chest. “Just like that, Bruce? You’re going to take the witch boy in?”

“Pot-kettle,” Richard coughed, smiling when Jason elbowed him.

The creature, now known as Bruce, sighed. “Take the boy. He is tired.”

Jason and Richard obeyed, each hauling Timothy up under the armpits, leading him to a dimly lit staircase.

“Are you two going to eat me?”

“Yes,” Jason replied without hesitation.

“Jason!” Richard barked. “Stop.” He looked down at Timothy. “We’re not going to eat you Timothy…we’re going to help you. And that includes having a warm bed to sleep in and hot food to eat.”

Tears once again gathered in Timothy’s eyes, and he lowered his head as he sniffled. For once since that night, he felt safe.

These were the legends that prowled the city streets. They were supposed to be vicious and dark, evil and bloodthirsty, not ribbing and warm.

But then again, what are legends, but threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable?

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 5 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader

This is a big one babes!! Hold on tight!! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

Contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, soft aaron hotchner supremacy 

wordcount: 1.8k

You barely saw Aaron on Sunday, despite being in his house the whole day-- Jack was practically buzzing with excitement the moment you came through the door, pulling you down to his height and wrapping his arms around your neck to squeeze you in a hug.

“Hey, little man, I’ve missed you!” You said enthusiastically, returning his hug. 

“I missed you too. And so did Daddy. He said you were sick so I drew you a feel better card,” he told you, dragging you over to the coffee table and brandishing the  piece of computer paper he’d folded in two to form a card. 

“I love it so much Jack! I feel better already. Let’s put this on the fridge, yeah?” You said, standing up and shooting Aaron a smile as you crossed the kitchen. 

“Can we play legos now?”

“Buddy, give her a second. She just got here.” Aaron tried to calm Jack down, but you waved him off. 

“Just let me put my stuff away, and I’ll meet you in your room, okay?’ You told Jack, who scurried off towards his bedroom.

Aaron must have found some other way to entertain himself, because you and Jack spent the whole morning together, only taking a break after lunch when it was time for Jack’s nap. He insisted that you put him down, and after three readings of Curious George, he was finally asleep. When you turned to leave, you saw Aaron sitting in the door jam watching you.

“He was so excited this morning you would have thought it was Christmas,” He remarks as you meet him in the doorway. 

“He’s a good kid.” You whisper, slipping out into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind the two of you.

“I’m lucky.” He agrees with you. 

“Come on, Hotchner, it’s not all luck.” You tease him good naturedly as the two of you move back to the kitchen. He saw you headed for the sink, full of dishes from lunch, and sped up to get in front of you.

“Ah, ah ah. It’s naptime.” He told you, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around. 

Before you could stop yourself, you stomped your foot, not entirely unlike a child who needed a nap. “Hotch, come on!” 

“We’re probably getting called on something tomorrow, and sleep will be hard to come by, and you’ll wish you’d listened to me.” He tells you.

“You’re acting like you aren’t going to bench me, regardless of whether or not we get called on a case.” You accused of him, and he at least had the good grace to try and look sheepish. “I’m not tired. Can we just watch a movie or something?” You offered a compromise, and he nodded, leading you to the couch. 

You plopped onto the couch and picked up the remote as Aaron crossed the room to grab a throw blanket for the two of you to share. He spread the blanket across the couch and sat down, and you tucked your feet underneath you, unintentionally leaning in closer to him as you flicked the TV to a movie channel. Aaron stretched his legs out in front of him, extending one arm across the end of the sofa and the other arm around the back of it, conveniently making more space for you. As Hotch had suspected, it wasn’t long before your eyelids started to get heavy. 

“The dishes…” you mumbled sleepily. 

“I’ll take care of them.” He whispered, leaning in closer so you could hear him. 

“Later. It’s naptime,” you reminded him, your head resting against his chest in sleep. His arm came to rest across your shoulders and down your side, drawing you into him. He inhaled deeply, trying not to overthink. 

You’re her superior. His brain screamed. She loves Jack, not you. She loves Jack, but that doesn’t mean she wants to raise him. You’re too old, too cranky, too much baggage. This isn’t what you think it is. As much as he wanted to make himself believe all of that, as much as he wanted to accept that even if he knew he would go through hell and back for you, he could never have you, all he could focus on in that moment was the steady puffs of breath coming from your nose and landing on his chest. He realized, with a start, that it felt like walking into the wrong classroom your senior year of high school and locking eyes with the woman you knew you were going to marry.

  Aaron’s prediction had been correct-- Monday morning had found you jetting off to Kentucky, for the murder of three county paramedics-- by the time your plane had landed, another body had dropped. A firefighter. You all climbed into SUVs from the airstrip-- Hotch and Rossi off to examine the bodies, Morgan, JJ and Prentiss to the most recent crime scene, and you and Reid to the police station to the police station to work on the geographic profile. Normally you’d be off with Hotch and Rossi, and examining a body wasn’t technically field work, but you went with Reid with minimal pouting, knowing you were lucky that Hotch had let you leave Quantico at all.

You decided to let Reid drive, and you were fiddling with the radio when he spoke for the first time. 

“I keep… thinking about what there is to say to you, to communicate how much we’re all here for you, how much we all love you and we all want what’s best for you, and it feels like everything just falls short. I have an IQ of 187 and I still can’t find the words, but I can’t say nothing. I was scared for you. I’m proud of you, and if you need anything I just want you to know I’m here. I might not have the right words but I promise to listen, and to make sure you feel heard.” The words stumble out of Spencer awkwardly, but still strike you with their sincerity. You sniffle a little before responding. 

“I know, Reid. I know how much you all care for me. I’ve never doubted that for a second. Thank you.” You tell him, your voice thick with emotion. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I am.” You tell him with a confident nod. “Or, at least, I’m getting there. I did the hard part. I got out.” 

A few hours later, you were at the police station with Reid, narrowing the geographic profile and spitballing with victimology, when one of the local officers poked his head into your makeshift office-space. 

“Another body dropped. The town librarian.” 

“Two in one day?” You asked. 

“He’s spree killing now. He’s devolving.” Reid supplemented. 

“Do you think it was random? He was killing first responders. The librarian doesn’t fit.” 

“Could be,” Reid agreed. 

“Have you called the rest of our team?” You asked the officer. 

“Not yet.” 

“We’ll call.” You told him, and he nodded. You pulled out your phone and dialed Hotch as Reid crossed the room to call JJ. 

“Hotchner,” he said into the phone. 

“Hey, it’s me. Another body just dropped.”  

“He’s devolving.” Aaron sighed

“It was the local librarian.” 

“But he was killing--” He started, but you could hear the words he was going to say before he even thought them.

“First responders, I know.” 

Aaron let out a deep sigh. “If I take Reid off of babysitting duty, are you going to behave?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, but I reserve the right to bitch about it when this is over.” 

“Noted. Tell him to meet us at the next scene, please?” He asks of you.

“Will do. Stay safe out there.” 

“You too.” Hotch said before hanging up. 

You sent Reid off to meet up with Hotch, and sat back down in front of your case files and notes, determined to find something written between the lines. After a tortuously slow thirty minutes, a thought occurs to you. You step into the police bullpen and get the attention of one of the officers. 

“Hey. Does this town contract out its EMS services?” 

“No,” the officer tells you. “They’re all employed by the town. They’re paid with a mix of taxpayer and grant dollars.” 

“So they’re government employees?” 

“Yeah.” The officer confirms, and you pull your cell phone out of your pocket, heading out a side door to get a little bit of air and some better reception to call Garcia. 

“What’s new bugaboo?” Garcia asks as she picks up the phone, and you can’t help but smile. The sunshine felt warm on your face as you paced the empty back lot of the police station. 

“Hey, Garcia. Is there any way to track if anyone in town has some sort of anti-government bias?” 

“I can look for fringe political groups-- if the unsub is a member, that might help, but it would take me days to just search through every resident’s social media.” 

“That’s okay, start there. Look for white men between 23 and 45. If I think of anything else that might weed it out I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, kitten. Are we talking strict anarchists here, or should I be looking at groups like--” 

Garcia continued, but you couldn’t hear her over the sound of a gun cocking and the sensation of cold metal at the back of your head. You gasped. 

“Sweetie? Did you think of something?”

“It’s time to put the phone down.” A voice said from behind you. You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. 

“Who was that? Are you okay?” Garcia asked.

“Go on,” the voice said. “Hang up the phone. Don’t be dumb.” 

You hung up the phone without saying another word to Garcia. The man dragged his gun down your spine, resting it against the middle of your back. “To think, I came here thinking I might kill a couple of cops, and I ended up with an FBI agent. Talk about an upgrade.” You tried to subtly reach for your gun, but it was useless. He strikes you in the head with the barrel of his gun before you can react. “Come on, sweet thing. I told you not to play dumb with me.” 

“You really think you can kill an FBI agent outside of a fully staffed police station without getting caught? And you’re going to call me dumb?” You asked, hoping that he couldn’t hear the fear laced in your voice.

“Who said anything about not getting caught?” He chuckled. “We all die eventually. Might as well make it worth my while.”

tagging:  @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee @hotforhotchner11  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @zheezs14​

[weighty-ghosts]

‘Perpetual Force’ (wolfstar)

Perpetual Force, by weightyghosts

‘Sirius finds the hidden meaning of a hidden moon, and Remus finds the light to his darkness.’

Rating: teen

Word count: 2000

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: April 1, 2021

Warnings: swearing, nightmares

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30393084 

      The sound of a terrified gasp and muffled sob abruptly awoke Sirius in the middle of the night. He leapt out of bed, the stone floor freezing on his bare feet, as James and Peter popped their sleepy heads out of their drapes.

“What’s going on?” Peter rubbed his eyes, his voice gruff.

“Is some- someone dead or injured?” James asked around a large yawn.

Sirius ignored them as he rushed across the dark room to the bed opposite his. He drew aside the curtain, only enough for him to lean his upper body in, and saw Remus sitting up with his back against the headboard, one hand clutching at his sweaty hair, trying to calm his rapid breathing.

“Rem?” Sirius asked softly, “Are you alright?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on Remus’ shoulder, but Remus jerked away and scrambled to the other side of the bed.

“It’s nothing,” he choked out as he stood up and dashed away, “I’m fine. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

Sirius straightened and walked around the bed, as Remus firmly shut the bathroom door behind him. He hovered in the middle of the room, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before glancing back at Peter, who gave Sirius a shrug before disappearing behind his curtains.

“Go on,” James encouraged, then made a shooing motion with his hand when Sirius didn’t reply.

“What?” Sirius grumbled.

“We both know you’re going in there after him.”

“He’s upset, Prongs.”

“Yes, and I’m sure deep down he wants you to comfort him-”

“You mean someone. He wants someone to comfort him.”

“No, I very much mean you,” James insisted with a smirk that Sirius didn’t trust. “Just go, Pads. See- see you in the morning,” he yawned again and disappeared.

Sirius bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to figure out why James’ words left him feeling like he was missing something right in front of him, but he thought of Remus and decided to sort that out later.

He crept over to the bathroom and opened the door slowly. Cool air hit him and he turned to the window that had been thrown open. Remus was sitting on the sill, hugging his legs, moonlight the only thing illuminating his body. It was enough for Sirius to see that he was shivering.  

Remus sighed at the sound of Sirius shutting the door behind him, and pushed aside the fringe sticking to his damp forehead. “I’m fine, Sirius. You don’t need to check on me.”

“Oh, good,” Sirius retorted as he came closer, “I was actually hoping you’d check on me. See, I had a nasty nightmare and now I’m all shaky and sweaty and panicky and not accepting comfort from anyone.”

He sat across from the werewolf on the sill they had magically enlarged so that two people could sit comfortably, and three squished together, for smoking purposes.

Remus narrowed his eyes at him, then looked away. “Trust me, it’s nothing. Just a stupid dream.”

“Doesn’t seem stupid, Moony.”

Sirius almost missed Remus’ minute flinch at the nickname. “Another one about the wolf?” He guessed.

“No,” he murmured, “I mean, yes, sort of. But this was new.”

“Tell me,” Sirius replied softly, aching with the desire to take away Remus’ pain.

Remus studied his face for a moment, likely assessing how awake Sirius was and how far he would keep pushing Remus until he inevitably gave in. He huffed in defeat, then took a deep, wavering breath, and rested his chin on his knees as he spoke.

“We were in the forest,” he started in a low voice. “I could feel the moon rising and knew I was only a few minutes away from turning. You three were there- as Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail, I mean, and something felt...off. Padfoot was pacing, and whining a bit. You looked up at the sky, and when I did too, I realized... I couldn’t see the moon.”

Sirius frowned, but said nothing, as he watched Remus’ eyes flick over to the near-full moon stamped in the sky outside.

“I felt this sense of dread; I knew that this was bad-”

“How did you know?” Sirius interrupted.

“It’s a dream, Sirius. I don’t know how, but I just knew; if I didn’t find the moon, something bad would happen.”

“Alright, sorry, keep going.”

“We were pretty deep in the forest where the trees are thicker, so I started running in the direction of the castle, hoping to see the sky unobstructed as the trees thinned. All I could hear was this ringing in my ears and my heart beating faster and faster. My body was aching and starting to shake, you know how it does just before.” Remus glanced up, and Sirius hummed in acknowledgment.

“I made it to a large clearing,” Remus continued, “And I looked up at where I knew the moon should be...but the sky was empty. You’d think I’d be fucking happy, but I panicked. I ran around in circles, tried to climb trees, tried to find the bloody moon. And I couldn’t. I eventually collapsed; the wolf couldn’t get free and it was punishing me. It was the worst pain...”

“Fuck, Rem...”

“I couldn’t find the moon, Pads.” Remus put a hand over his face as he laughed without humour, the sound catching in his throat.

Sirius slid forward and put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he promised, “You’re okay, it wasn’t real. You won’t have to go through that kind of pain, alright?”

Remus shook his head back and forth, then sniffed loudly as he met Sirius’ eyes.

“I don’t think it was the pain that freaked me out so much.”

“What, then?” Sirius asked, sliding his hand down to hold onto Remus’ wrist when he hesitated. He tilted his head to tell Remus to keep going.

“I just don’t understand why I reacted like that… Why wasn’t I fucking ecstatic not to see the moon? All I want is for the moon to go away.”

“That’s just unreasonable, Remus, the tides would be all out of whack,” Sirius joked.

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched up into a smile, but it didn’t last.

“I don’t get it, Pads,” he said dejectedly.

Sirius shrugged. “I think it makes sense.”  

Remus stared at him like he’d just said he prefers coffee over tea, or something else equally abhorrent.

“You know,” Sirius reflected, “The day before I went on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, I actually told my parents I didn’t want to go.”

“Why? Because they said you had to?”

“Maybe a little,” he chuckled. Remus knew him well enough to know that he would have refused his favourite ice cream just because his parents told him to eat it. “But no, I think it was more...fear. I was afraid.”

Remus tilted his head in a thoroughly adorable way. “Why would you be afraid of coming to Hogwarts? Didn’t you want a break from your parents?”

“I did,” he confirmed, “I wanted to get away from them. But it’s the most common fear in the world, isn’t it? Being afraid of the unknown? I was scared at home too, but at least I knew what to expect. I knew how my parents would react to anything I said or did. Coming here... I had no idea. What if I didn’t get sorted into Slytherin? Or worse, what if I did... What if my roommates hated me-”

“Not possible.”

“Yes it was! I know you didn’t like me at first.”

“You were a bit of a prick,” Remus conceded.

“I was a proper arse,” Sirius smirked unapologetically, drawing a small laugh from Remus. “It’s the unknown, Moony,” he continued more seriously, “As much as you hate what you go through every month, it’s been the one constant in your life for as long as you can remember. You know what to expect from it. There’s a lot changing in the world around us, and we only have a few months left of school; I think we’re all feeling the weight of it. It’s okay to be worried. But we’ll get through it, yeah?”

Remus didn’t reply, simply gazed at Sirius for a long while, before nodding thoughtfully. He turned his head to look out at the night sky, and Sirius was able to watch the moonlight on his beautiful face; the shadows under his eyes, his long lashes, the slope of his nose, the corners of his mouth still turned down in sadness.

Remus had long since stopped being angry at the moon, stopped glaring at it whenever it deigned to blemish the sky. He looked at it now in a somber resignation; how someone would observe the grave of a loved one long since passed.

Sirius realized he was still holding onto Remus, and quickly found it difficult to remember what he wanted to say.

When he did, he whispered, “Moony?”  

“Hm?”

“If you ever can’t find the moon, you can come find me.”

“What?” Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius-”

“No, listen,” he cut in, suddenly desperate to make Remus understand, “I know I’ve broken your trust before, but it will never happen again. I’ll always be there for you.”

Sirius slid his fingers from Remus’ wrist to his hand, holding it tight, as Remus’ eyes flicked across his face. “I’ll always be there,” Sirius urged, “The moon is the perpetual force in your life pulling you into the dark? Then I’ll be the perpetual force pulling you into the light.”

Remus just stared back at him, his eyes wide and glittering, his mouth open. Sirius waited for him to say something, but he didn’t.

Instead, he tugged Sirius’ hand, pulling him close as Remus leaned forward. Sirius’ mind froze like he’d been stupefied, but he managed to realize what was happening a second before it did, and he felt Remus’ lips press against his, gently, yet firmly.

Remus pulled back slightly, waiting for Sirius’ reaction.

“Did- did you just kiss me?” Sirius asked stupidly.

“Erm, yes?”

“Did you... mean to do that?”

“Yes?”

Remus bit his lip, and Sirius’ eyes were drawn to the mouth that had just been on his. There was a bead of saliva on Remus’ top lip. His hand felt warm and tingly from where they touched, though, really, it was nothing compared to the raging fire building inside him.

“Did you...want to do it again?”

“Yes,” Remus exhaled, his face lighting up with a grin that Sirius immediately surged forward to capture. Remus’ lips tasted like tea and honey and peppermint, and Sirius could tell he was quickly becoming addicted to it.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered after a divine moment.

“For kissing you?”

“For following me in here and comforting me.”

“I thought you were comforting me?”

“Ah is that what I’m doing?” Remus smirked. His face softened and he ran his thumb along Sirius’ palm. “You were wrong though, you know.”

“I highly doubt that,” Sirius dismissed. “About what?”

“You said the moon has been the only constant in my life for as long as I can remember. But that’s not true.”

He looked deep into Sirius’ eyes, and Sirius felt his heart stutter at the adoration in them. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, Pads. My love for you has been a constant in my life too.”

“Oh,” Sirius breathed. The words felt like sunlight washing over him, and he took a second to let the warmth seep into his bones. “Moony…” He brought a hand up to cup Remus’ cheek and tilted his face as their lips fit together, hoping to convey every feeling that was lost on his tongue into his touches.

“Me too, Moons,” he professed in between kisses, “As long as I can remember.”

The rest of the night was spent in each other's arms, as were the next nights for a long, long while.

*

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[high-lady-of-earth]

Warrior Heart

Chapter 1

Riven x Light Fairy Reader

Plot: After the ending of Winx Saga season 1, the reader must navigate the rest of her second year in the shifting school environment. She wants to learn how to fight and defend herself.

Chapter 2

It had been a month since Alfea had been taken over by Rosalind. Headmistress Dowling was still missing and Headmaster Silva had been arrested. Professor Harvey was still teaching, but you could tell that he was on thin ice with Rosalind. Andreas of Eraklyon, Sky’s father, had taken over Silva’s role of training the specialists.

You were an air fairy in your second year. Your powers, which allowed you to manipulate the density of air particles, were firmly within your control and you had been one of Headmistress Dowling’s prodigies.

In your first year, you had roomed with Stella and Rikki. You were there when Stella had lost control of her powers and accidentally blinded Rikki, who was sent away by Queen Luna. After that incident, you had lost one of your best friends and the other began to pull away from you. You watched from afar as Stella’s life at Alfea began to fall apart. Her magic was irreparably damaged. You knew Stella felt incompetent next to you, who had been labeled by Dowling to be the “most talented fairy of your generation”. You tried not to use your powers near Stella, but you still could still feel her resentment, even though you weren’t a mind fairy.

Now, Stella was rooming with first years and you were alone. You had mended your friendship over the summer, especially after she had broken up with Sky. Her new roommates became your friends, even though you lived alone. If you were being honest, it was actually kinda nice to have a room all to yourself.

But now, things were taking a darker turn. Stella’s mother was currently residing in the school, and no one liked her. Queen Luna was cruel, especially to Stella. She doted on you because you were a powerful fairy, but you wished she didn’t. It made Stella feel even more inadequate when she didn’t receive the same attention from her own mother.

Bloom was Rosalind’s protege. She did everything Rosalind ordered, without asking any questions. Bloom and the other girls felt like Aisha had betrayed the rest of them and you honestly just wanted to graduate without anymore drama after your fourth year.

Sky was more of a mystery. You couldn’t tell how he felt about his father’s return. You knew that even though Sky might be happy to see his father, he would never forgive Andreas for Silva’s arrest and subsequent absence. Sky seemed to be dating Bloom though, after another breakup with Stella. He mostly kept to himself, only really hanging out with Bloom. Sky also wasn’t talking to Riven.

Riven and Dane turned out to be Beatrix’s lackeys. They followed her every step and worshipped the ground she walked on. You were disgusted by how much Riven had changed. Before this year, he had been arrogant, but now he was just a straight up asshole.

The specialist presence on campus has increased immensely. Rosalind cited the burned ones as the reason for more security. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable whenever you walked to class, the stares of the guards like needles in your skin. You also hated how vulnerable they made you feel. The older specialists were a constant reminder that you were defenseless and you hated that feeling. That was why you were currently at the specialists training field at ten pm, trying to smash a dummy.

You had seen the specialists do it when they were training. They would punch the dummy and it would fall. It couldn’t be that difficult. Ok well, unfortunately it was. You had tried to punch the dummy at least six times already, and it seemed like it was doing more damage to you based on the state of your knuckles.

You put your arms back into position and struck out, this time pushing more strength into your blow. Your fist collided with the center of the target on the dummy and it fell backwards a little bit. You let out a small squeal of excitement at the first amount of progress you had made.

“Why are you so excited? You only made the dummy move a fraction of an inch and it took you eight tries.” Said a voice behind you.

You whirled around to see a person standing behind you, their identity obscured by the darkness. It didn’t matter that it was dark. You knew by the cocky voice exactly who it was.

“It was six tries and no one asked your opinion, Riven.” You replied.

“Well, I wanted to give it anyway. And here’s another one: you’re punches are shit.” He said. You rolled your eyes. It didn’t matter that your punches were shit, you didn’t like being told by him.

“What are you doing out here? Running from your homicidal bitch of a girlfriend?” You said tauntingly.

“1) she’s not my girlfriend. 2) I could ask you the same question, Y/n.”

“So, you were running from Beatrix.”

“No, I was talking a walk, but your pathetic excuse for a punch ruined it.”

“You could just leave then. The dorms are back that way.” You said, pointing to the specialist hall.

“I’m just leaving now. Here’s a free tip: widen your stance and use your core.” Riven said as he walked off. You turned around and did as he suggested, widening the distance between your two feet. Then, you brought your arm back and swung while tightening your core. Your fist hit the dummy and it sailed backwards and hit the ground. You let out a triumphant cry of joy and walked back to your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was your knuckles. They were red and raw. If any of your friends saw your hands, they wouldn’t stop asking questions. You put on a sweater which was just a hint too big and pulled the sleeves over your hands.

You walked to your first class, which was taught by Rosalind. Her teaching style was way different from Headmistress Dowling’s. Instead of sitting at desks, you were told to stand around the edge of the room. All of the desks had been removed from the classroom and a table small table had been set up in the middle of the open space. On it were three bowls that contained water, dirt, and sticks.

“Good morning, class. Today, we will be learning how to use our magic without the guidance of our hands.” Rosalind said. The class chittered with excitement. This was the most exciting lesson for second years.

“We’re going to be doing things a little differently. Headmistress Dowling taught you useless magic. I will be teaching you how to use it offensively and we will practice on each other.” Rosalind continued. Someone spoke up.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use our magic on other students!” Your classmate said.

“Using your magic on each other is the only way to hone your skills. This new rule will be put into place effective immediately.” Rosalind replied.

You watched as Rosalind called up two of your classmates. One was an earth fairy and the other was a water fairy. Rosalind proceeded to teach them how to draw on their magic without using their hands. Headmistress Dowling and already taught you this, so you zoned out. Instead of watching the two fairies in the center try to battle it out, you thought about last night.

You were surprised that Riven had helped you. A part of his first year self had come through and you were pleasantly happy about it. It was good to know that he wasn’t just Beatrix’s lap dog.

“Y/n and Fiora, you’re up next.” Rosalind said. You rolled your eyes. Fairy parents were so unoriginal with names for their children. Of course Fiora was a fire fairy.

You stepped into the center of the room. You reached out with your mind and the air around you condensed, becoming a thick shield. It was invisible, so no one could tell that you had already armed yourself.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Fiora said. She was holding a bunch of the sticks you had seen in one of the bowls. Well, it seemed like her plan was to torch the stick and throw it at you, just like the three other fire fairies had done in the last few rounds. How unoriginal, you thought. You were honestly bored of this already.

You nodded and reached out with your mind once again. Fiora’s eyes lit up as she used her powers and stared at the sticks, but nothing happened. She knit her eyebrows in concentration. The concentration turned to confusion when the sticks turned black.

“What are you doing?” Fiora said to you. Everyone was now staring at you intensely. Honestly, it was really simple. Fire needed oxygen to light, so you had removed the oxygen in the air from around your the sticks, creating a little bubble around them. Fiora was just heating them up to the point where they charred. You tell she was growing frustrated and angry so you drew your powers back from her.

What you didn’t expect, thought, was for her to launch two fireballs at you. You had still kept the shield of air up around you, so they hit the barrier and fizzled out. Fiora launched fireball after fireball at you and she began sweating. She was wearing herself out, but you weren’t even fazed. You wanted to end this, so you reached out with your power and formed a hand with the air in front of Fiora. You used the hand to push her towards the edge of the room.

Rosalind began clapping while the other students stared at you in awe.

“Now that is a perfect example of offensive mental magic!” Rosalind exclaimed.

Hi!! I hope you liked the first chapter of this:) I will be posting the next chapter in a couple of days.

[illyaana]

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Want to get a personalized drabble about your love life with an anime character you like? Check out my 50 followers event's post here! You can choose any character from BNHA, Haikyu!!, AOT, JJK and Kuroko no Basketball <3

“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

⁜

⁜

⁜

I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

⁜

⁜

⁜

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

[cherrybyunss]

Ship: Haechan x Reader Word Count: 2k Tags: Smut, Explicit, Oral (M receiving), Masturbation, Dirty Talking

An excerpt from When It Gets Risky: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

_________

Donghyuck and you had been sexting. And seeing the guy at school the next day was, to say the least, a very amusing experience for you.

He was just as great at acting like nothing had happened as you were, and you had expected that. But you could feel him staring at you on multiple occasions, even checking you out at times. And every time your eyes met, you looked away and smiled to yourself. And every time you had to talk to him about something, you would look him right in the eye with the most innocent pair of eyes you could manage. You were sure it drove him crazy.

And you were proved right as soon as it was time for the lunch break.

Lee Donghyuck Meet me in the library. Now.

You smiled at your phone before getting up from your seat and complying.

You dropped him a text when you reached the library, before turning the knob on the door and pushing it open, slowly, trying to figure out if you got the location right for sure.

But before you managed that much, the door got pulled open from the other side. Your eyes widened a little at the sudden force, but the surprised expression soon turned into a smug one when you saw Donghyuck, looking almost mad, and really sexy.

It didn’t last long though, as Donghyuck grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, closing the door behind you, and not even giving you enough time to gasp before slamming you against it, and his lips against yours.

His kissed you with unparalleled, almost painful heat. It almost made you dizzy how wonderful his lips felt against yours. He was really skillful. The boy managed to find perfect harmony even in a moment of sheer desperation.

Your hands went around and met behind his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, if it was even possible. And he had his placed firmly on your waist.

He lightly bit your lower lip and sucked on it, testing your reaction, pleased at the gasp it drew from your lips, which you could deduce from him slightly smirking against your lips before moving closer, deepening the kiss.

You loved the boldness. And boy was he a great kisser.

You wanted more.

Just as he was starting to move down to leave kisses and marks on your neck, you slowly raised one of your thighs a little, attempting to create a slight friction against the growing bulge in his pants and your unclothed skin.

He gasped as he pulled away a little, and grabbed your thighs, letting you bathe in much pride at his reaction. With your bodies undulated in that one moment, you could tell how turned on he was.

He was breathing heavily, lips red, glistening and swollen. But you guessed that made the two of you. You noticed he had pretty lips. A pretty face overall. Perfectly in contrast with the most lustful pair of eyes you’d ever had staring you down.

Ah yes, this was exactly what you’d wanted.

“Such a fucking troublemaker.”

You smiled. “I must be, you look really troubled right now.” You said and reached up to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

He looked at you for a slight instance, and then lifted you up against the door the next, throwing your legs around his waist and resting his hands firmly under your thighs for support.

You gasped and grabbed his shoulders hastily. It’d caught you off guard. It was so hot, it’d rendered you speechless. All you could do was sigh at the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the bare skin of your thighs, never letting the feeling of butterflies in your stomach fade away.

“Now we’re talking.” He smirked, your reaction feeding his ego perfectly well. He leaned in against your ear. “I couldn’t think of anything but fucking you all day today. Do you know how much of a pain in the neck that is?”

You almost shuddered at the feeling of his breath fanning your skin.

He scoffed. “And you had the audacity to act all innocent, makes me wanna fuckin’ ruin you.”

You felt a massive rush of adrenaline through your veins all throughout your body. You’d never been more thrilled in your life. Maybe you did want him to ruin you.

“Now where were we?” He said as he moved your hair out of the way and dived right into your neck again, almost throwing you over the edge.

His lips felt absolutely heavenly against your neck. You were gripping onto his hair for dear life and had been finding it increasingly difficult to stifle your moans with each passing second, when almost as if he’d taken it as a challenge to get you to make a sound, he decided to latch his mouth onto a particularly sensitive spot and suck on it, letting him draw a moan out of you.

You felt his nails dig deep into your skin. “Fuck,” he whispered against your neck. “You even sound hot– Fuck.”

You struggled to form coherent phrases with the painful, ecstatic sensation, combined with the constant attack your neck was under at the time. “Hyuck, I–” Hearing his name made him breathe out against an already vulnerable spot, making your breath hitch. “Fuck!”

You slapped the back of your hand against your mouth to suppress your voice, making his ego soar even higher. Encouraged, he went on to leave a number of hickeys that you were definitely gonna end up having to cover up for at least a couple weeks.

“Hyuck, you’re so good at this– What the fuck!” You managed to say in the midst of the struggle.

He pulled away after one last dragged out kiss, and stared at the red spots he’d left. And then up at you, finally getting to catch your breath. He found you so hot.

You almost collapsed on his shoulder when he did pull away. And felt his breath hitch at the deep breaths fanning his collarbones.

And his reaction piqued your interest yet again.

He pushed you further against the door, grinding his hard, probably painfully hard, bulge against your clothed core. Your body shuddered at the contact yet again. You could see he was desperate for a release.

“Hey,” you leaned in and whispered against his neck, in the middle of leaving a lot of soft little pecks, and a couple of hickeys. “Let me take care of that for you, yeah?”

Donghyuck looked at your every move as he let go of your thighs and helped you back on your feet. He didn’t miss the way you looked up at him through your lashes as you slid down against the door.

You unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers. You could feel him twitch even at the slightest contact. You could only imagine how painful the clothes restraining his length must’ve been.

You slid the trousers and the boxers down in one swift motion causing his member to spring up, tall and proud.

You glanced at him ones, and on finding him looking at you with eyes hooded with lust, wasted no time taking his member in your hand and giving it a few light strokes.

Donghyuck had to almost slam his hand on the door in haste so as to retain his balance. It was all the encouragement you needed.

You licked up his shaft before taking him in your mouth. You initially swirled your tongue around the head, letting him get a good view of how your lips looked wrapped around his length, and hollowed out your cheeks to create the kind of suction you knew drove guys crazy. Then you slowly let the tip of his length hit the back of your throat, and your hand handle the length you couldn’t fit inside, before starting to pump him, putting pressure and sucking repeatedly every time you moved up his shaft.

“Fuck…!” You knew he was having a hard time not fucking your mouth, only managing to because you were good enough without it. His little moans and the hitching of his breath were the hottest sounds you’d heard in forever.

“Mm-hmm?” You asked for affirmation, without taking him out.

He shuddered. You looked up at him with innocent eyes, and he hated how much that riled him up. “Touch yourself.”

It caught you off guard. His voice sounded too authoritative, provided his circumstance at the time. It was hot. And who were you to not comply?

So you did. You dipped your unoccupied hand under your skirt, rubbing your clothed folds lightly. You realized then how bad this whole fiasco had you dripping. And the realization made you squirm.

You made sure not to get too carried away, for you couldn’t lose your rhythm. But even with that much being taken care of, playing with yourself made you feel like you were gonna see the stars anytime then.

As your moans, that were otherwise getting stifled, got louder, the vibrations Donghyuck felt against his length got increasingly harder for him to handle. You could feel him getting close.

“Fuck–” He managed to exclaim in whispers as he threw his head back. And with one last pump, he bucked his hips and came undone inside your mouth.

He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, you were sure you’d end up retaining a videographic memory of the guy in orgasmic bliss. And you didn’t mind at all.

You waited for him to ride out his orgasm before taking him out and standing back up. You’d made sure to swallow everything right up so as to not make a mess. And you realized he must’ve noticed it when his eyes darted down to your lips for a fraction of a second.

He lightly threw his head back one more time and took a deep breath before letting himself fall forward onto your shoulder, one of his hands still resting on the door, and the other having found its way onto your waist.

“That was the best fucking orgasm I’ve had in my entire life.”

You smiled. It wasn’t the first time someone had told you that after you’d sucked them off. “I’m glad.”

He nuzzled your neck, planting a couple of kisses around your collarbones. You loved the way it felt. But stopped him anyways.

“Let’s get out of here for now.”

Donghyuck looked at you puzzled. “What? But– I didn’t make you come yet?”

“Yeah, but we can always do that some other day.” You said, and studied his reaction. “Right?”

His curious expression soon turned into a small smile. He grabbed your waist and leaned in, and whispered against your lips. “We can do that every single day, baby girl.”

You smiled, resting your hands on his chest. “Good, because I’m honestly satisfied enough for now. But that by no means implies that I’ll be done with you anytime soon.” You said in between Donghyuck peppering your skin with kisses. “I need to know if you’re as good as you look like you’d be.” He smirked at the latter remark.

“You didn’t come, yet you’re satisfied?”

“You underestimate how hot you were.”

Donghyuck scoffed at your cockiness. “Well, all I’ll say is, thanks a lot for this, then. You were beyond amazing.” He said and kissed your forehead following a light peck on the lips. You found it really sweet how affectionate he was. “And next time, I promise I’m not letting you go before I make you come at least thrice.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling. “That’s ambitious.”

“Trust me,” he said, planting another kiss right under your ear, “It’ll be the best experience of your life.”

You chuckled. You sure hoped it’d be.

“Let’s get out.” Donghyuck said, letting go of you to get a hold of the doorknob.

You placed your hand firmly on top of his before he could turn it. “Hyuck, uh–”

He breathed out. “Now I’m gonna have a whiplash every time you call me that.”

You facepalmed. “Listen!” You poked his forehead. And he feigned pain, earning a shake of head from you. “Don’t tell the others about this, please? I don’t want things to get awkward.”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Come, let’s go.”

You smiled at the sweet gesture and followed him outside.

"One down, two to go." You remarked to yourself with a small smile.

_________

Read the entire fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31129871/chapters/76918949

Excerpts Masterlist

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 1

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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I: Hello. Can you hear me? Good night. (t/n: He’s replying to a comment.) You can hear me? Hello. Welcome.

I: My tone sounds great today, ***-kun? (t/n: OP commented that his tone sounds great.) Of course I’ll be excited in the beginning of the stream. But only in the beginning.

C: Your voice somehow sounds young.

I: It’s because I just slept.

*Typing on twitter

I: I finally did it. This is a simultaneous worldwide stream. Do you understand it? Ah, I’m so tired. I’m tired of sleeping.

I: I’ll be drinking my coffee. Itadakimasu.

I: It was a long vacation, wasn’t it? When was the last time you guys heard from me? On September…Well, it doesn’t matter.

I: I don’t have anything particular to do for this stream. I just felt like it.

C: I’ve been listening to your streams repeatedly during holiday.

I: Thank you.

C: We last heard from you at the end of August.

I: I see. Thanks.

C: Thank you for your hard work on the manuscript!

I: I did the rough sketches first. I was brainstorming.

*Someone commented on Animal Rap.

I: Animal rap? I actually wanna try this. Actually, I’ve done recording for one video, but won’t it be scary if suddenly in the middle of the stream, animal rap video is uploaded. Without saying anything, suddenly there’s a new animal rap video being uploaded. Won’t it be scary stream?

(t/n: I’m not sure if the translations for this part is correct. He said something more but I haven’t reached this level of Japanese understanding skill. Forgive me.)

C: Animal rap itself is scary, so it’s okay.

I: What a hilarious thing to say. Are you actually afraid of animal then?

C: Have you got vaccinated?

I: Nope, since I’ve been locked up in my house. I want to though. I want to get injected a lot. Around 10 times.

C: Sensei, did you read Berserk chapter 364?

I: Is it the final chapter?

Y****: Let’s inject the head.

I: Nice one, Y****. Well, since Y**** is an introvert at school, he must be a non-popular kid. Because he doesn’t have any friends, he can’t wait to meet me. Is it like that? Hahahaha.

I: I’m not even aware of the things happening around me. I don’t even know when the exhibition in Osaka will open. I want you guys to tell me about me.

C: I’m aiming to be a mangaka, but having someone that can be a mentor for me to learn from is better, as expected?

I: I don’t think so. It depends. In some degree, it’s better to do it by yourself. If you really wanna write a manga and you wanna create an environment that allows you to do so, if there’s a chance to be an assistant, I think it’s better for you to grab it. Because you’re still not familiar with how these things work. I think it’s better to be an assistant first. You don’t have to be one for a long time though.

C: I want to diet. Where should I start?

I: Record your weight. Measure your weight and record it in calendar. Doing that makes you feel conscious about your weight. You’ll probably can lose weight that way.

C: Are you still eating oatmeal?

I: I’ve been eating Onigiri only. 

C: I wanna change job, but I’m anxious to because of the economic situation. Please encourage me!

I: It’s better for you to change job, since you said you wanted to. I think everyone is anxious. There’s no one who isn’t.

C: I’m happy that the JJ illustration that you posted on twitter will be made into goods!

I: Yeah, without my permission. Hahaha. When the illustration was made into goods without my permission, I was like “Eh? This is…”. I’ll stop talking about this. Hahaha. I won’t talk about this.

*Someone commented about Kingdom exhibition.

I: I wanna go to the Kingdom exhibition.

I: What I said just now (about JJ illustration) was a lie. Please forget about it. Are there companies like that? Of course not. I was just joking. If that’s the case, then anybody can freely turn my illustrations into goods. Though there’s a person who sent me the PugMax t-shirt.

C: I wanted to be a mangaka when I was small. As I got older, I only immersed myself in the real world. I’ll be a civil servant starting from next year. I don’t have the courage to challenge myself, so I want to give my unconditional support to those who are.

I: I don’t know how old you are, but you can still draw even if you become a civil servant. Just draw one if you really want to.

C: You have to collect royalty.

I: I do get royalty. I get 5 yen in total.

C: How old will you be this year?

I: 250,000 years old.

C: How are you?

I: Like usual. But I made progress on the manuscript, so I’m relieved. I kinda forgot how to draw it.

C: I thought you were in your 30s.

I: Nope, I’m far older.

C: You haven’t started game streaming?

I: I’m haven’t decided yet for today.

*People were discussing about his age.

I: Doesn’t matter how old I am.

C: Do you prefer women with long hair or short hair?

I: Short hair.

*People commented about Heavy Rain.

I: Oh, you want to see me playing Heavy Rain? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with playing games or anything. I’ll be a yes-man for today. Everyone’s yes-man & toy, Ishida Osushi.

*Someone commented about Animal Rap again.

I: I wanted to say something about this. I’ve done the animal rap video. I only upload videos I’ve received from the animal themselves, not me. But I was afraid to upload it, so I refrained from doing so. I wanna try uploading the video while streaming. That’s what I wanted to say. Well, it doesn’t really matter. I just upload it after I finish streaming. I don’t understand the need to upload the video and streaming at the same time.

(t/n: He said something more, but again, info on Animal rap is hard for me to decipher. I’m really sorry.)

C: What did you watch recently?

I: Movies.

C: There were people who got scared by the fact that Ishida Sui raps.

I: No, you’re wrong. Ishida Sui doesn’t rap. Ishida Sui doesn’t do streaming as well.

C: Do mangakas have the chance to meet women?

I: It depends on the person. The ones who’re locked up in the house won’t. But…That’s right. You might if the workplace has mixed genders. You also have the chance to meet people during party or some sort. I’ll always be at the corner every time I go to parties. It’d be nice if the party was fun and the staffs could enjoy themselves. I also said that I went to parties to take a break, but I hated it.

C: You’re not going to parties?

I: Nope, I won’t. The company doesn’t hold them as well because of the current situation.  Even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t really eat the food, and introducing myself to people is tiresome.

I: S****** is here.

S******: Ishida Osushi can become a pro mangaka.

I: I’m aiming for it.

C: Fukuoka suits you, sensei.

I: Somehow, I feel grateful. It’s like you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to live in Kyushu.

(t/n: Kyushu is an island where Fukuoka is located.)

C: Sir Osushi, what do you think of Sir Sui?

I: I have a murderous intent towards him.

C: Does the thumbnail hold any meaning?

I: It does. Look forward to it.

C: Being a streamer suits you (Osushi) better than being a mangaka.

I: Hahaha.

C: The drawings of Neji (JJ character) by Ms. Towada were wonderful!

I: That’s right. Neji drawn by Ms. Towada. I want you guys to tell me something like this. I want you guys to tell me about my current situation. Things like, “would you retweet this?”, “This is JJ’s…”, “The CD’s also…”. Let me change my twitter account. First is Ms. Towada, right? Let’s retweet Ms. Towada’s tweets. I thought of drawing something like this. She drew quite a lot. She drew him more than me. I feel bad having her to draw it. I feel grateful rather than feeling bad. She drew a lot of them. Yonaga’s illustration looks nice. I see… There’s like an incomplete rough drawing. I thought of copying and drawing that illustration. I’ll just retweet this. Tell me what should I retweet next.

C: Is Ms.Towada doing well as well?

I: I talked to her a few days ago.

I: Do read Fool Night.

C: Do you like Aespa? (t/n: Aespa is a kpop girl group. Ishida had drawn one of the members.)

I: The girl caught my attention. I thought she was beautiful.

*Someone commented about his illustration of Ano-chan. (t/n: Ano-chan is a Japanese singer. Ishida had come to her radio programme once, and he did the album cover for her latest album.)

I: Ano-chan! What happened to that? Have you seen the album cover? It’s already out?

*Someone commented about Fool Night.

I: The world in Fool Night is super amazing. It was quite a while ago, the person in charge of the Superior magazine watched one of my streams and asked me if I could write some comments. I was like “Don’t tell me that!” (referring to watching his stream). I hate being seen. But then, I was like “whatever.” I usually turned it down, but I just wrote for this one.

*Someone commented about Wooma (t/n: an illustrator.)

I: Who’s Wooma? Let me check it.

C: Sensei, I’m a good child. So, is it okay for me to sleep?

I: Yes, of course.

C: Sensei, do you smoke?

I: No.

I: Ah, Wooma is the illustrator for the song ‘Usseewa’. Sorry for the lack of knowledge.

C: Do you watch Christopher Nolan’s works?

I: I’m not that familiar with movies, but I may or may not watch it. I’ve been getting into movies lately. I searched for the movies Takahashi Kunimitsu told me about. You tend to watch anything when you’re obsessed with movies, right? I was also obsessed with history for a while after I learned how fun it was from Takahashi Kunimitsu. I’ve been reading 2-3 books on history a day lately.

C: Until what time are you gonna stream?

I: Today is infinite as well. We have another 12 minutes left. Haha. I’ll keep on streaming today. I won’t end the stream today. It may end tomorrow. (t/n: He definitely kept his words.)

C: Sensei, do you like itzy? (t/n: Itzy is another kpop girl group, and Ishida had also drawn one of the members.)

I: Yes.

I: Tomorrow is a holiday? There are people who are not working tomorrow.

C: What are you drinking?

I: Coffee.

C: You only need another 800 people to reach 30,000 subscribers.

I: Yeah. It’s gonna reach 30,000. I have to make an appreciation stream or video for 30,000 subscribers. A lot of youtubers are doing this, so I have to do it too. I wanna do it. Feels like a youtuber. Isn’t it fun? I wonder what should I do for it? What would be fun? Let’s go with this concern first. I get lost if I don’t go one-by-one. It’s one of my bad habits.

*They’re planning on what Ishida should do when he reaches 30,000 subscribers.

C: Show your nails.

I: I don’t do manicure.

C: Heavy Rain.

I: Wanna play Heavy Rain as well.

C: Please let us hear your sneeze.

I: There is such person sometimes. Creepy.

C: Why don’t you play Ghosts n Goblins for now?

I: After the stream, I felt like playing the game. They had something like magical clock, though I forgot the name. The one that double the speed of the game. I really wanted to play that, honestly. Though, it wasn’t suitable for streaming. I thought of playing it in my own time. I really like that kind of games.

C: Will you sing when you reach 30,000?

I: During the previous silent stream, Queen Bee’s song was playing. Those who watched may know. I thought of appearing for a moment and sing and then end the stream. I wouldn’t do it, but I just thought about it. At that time, I wanted to try having just an illustration stream.

C: I’m waiting for an autograph session after the Corona ends.

I: The pandemic probably won’t end for at least 2-3 years.

*Someone wanted him to sing Gaston’s song.

I: Gaston. Singing, huh? Hahaha, why am I having second thoughts? I thought I’m okay with anything.

C: how about a karaoke battle?

I: Karaoke battle, huh?

C: Do you have any piercings?

I: I’m not wearing one right now, but I do have it. (t/n: I didn’t expect him to have a piercing. He’s really different than what I imagined a mangaka to be. XD)

C: I’m hoping for JJ’s song covers!

I: JJ? JJ’s songs are difficult. It was super hard during the time I did the covers. Seriously, when I heard it back…The cover for the opening theme was scary. I thought my singing ability had increased since I recorded this one the last. A few months ago, I listened to it after a long time, it was…what should I call it? A sutra, no, a curse. Me and JJ’s opening theme. I forgot the title of the song. Jack and something. There were parts in the songs where the female and male characters had to harmonise. To convey that part, I had to cover the song multiple times. I multiplied into 7 people, since I had to record as Kisa as well. When I was recording Kisa’s part, the other version of me at the back, probably Kai, was harmonising with me. I was told to deepen my voice by Mr.Kasama. So embarrassing. The voice was really low. I was drawn by Mr. Kasama’s voice. His voice was really good when he said ‘Broccoli’ for the cm.

*Ishida imitating Mr. Kasama.

I: It’s cooler than this.

*Imitating him once again.

I: I was like “So cool!”

C: Invite the animals that appeared in Animal rap as guests.

I: That’s a good idea. But what would the guests be doing? It’s absolutely hard to do that. It’s hard to invite the animals because of corona.

C: The title is “Jack & Jeanne of Quartz”.

I: Right. Thank you.

C: Won’t you invite Hanae?

I: I won’t. That’s impossible. (t/n: I want to see him playing horror games with Hanae Natsuki.)

Part 2

[baby-bearie]

take me home

(not my gif)

jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @tinylatina01 @obx-direction-sos @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @pixelated-pogues @dpaccione @thatshiscigar @hesscott @damonsalvawhore @fanficscuziranout @trustfundparker @teamnick @becca-harlow @trashmouthpogues @rudys-pankow @ilovejjmaybank @tomzfrog @arthriticcrickets @midnightmagicmusings @outerbankslove @justawilddreamerchild @jjandreidsgirl @apoguecalledjj @lilmoviehoe @bellaguarneri @harrys-creature @nivky0-0 @ijustreallylovethem

a/n: well well well i’m trying a short series for the first time! it’s a fake dating trope, because i just read the to all the boys i’ve loved before series and now i’m a sucker for fake dating. i don’t think there’ll be too many parts, i’ll fit plenty into each chapter. i really hope you like these. 

Rafe Cameron loves to get on your nerves. He’ll watch you squirm as he hits on you everytime you swing by the Cameron residence, and he has admitted to your face that he enjoys it. You don’t see the appeal. You do, however, see the appeal in smacking his creepy sneer off his face. 

But you’re almost 100% sure that would turn him on. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve known Rafe since before you were potty trained, and it sure as hell isn’t helping that the boy who shamelessly attempts to touch you whenever you’re near him is nothing like the boy who used to pick flowers for you and sit with you while you braided them into flower crowns. It doesn’t help that you loved him first. Long before he changed, morphed into a boy you would give anything to be far, far away from. You can’t be near him, it makes your heart break all over again.

All over again, you experience the pain of when he stopped smiling at you in the hallways in the beginning of freshman year. All of the pain of that midnight call from Sarah, telling you she found Rafe unconscious on the bathroom floor with the coke still on his nose, and she didn’t know what to do. All of that pain, every time you have to see a boy you thought you once knew. 

Rafe always had it the worst. Out of all the kooks in your little group: you, Rafe, Kie, Sarah and occasionally Topper, Rafe had always had it the worst. 

Finances were never one of your problems, but when you live on Figure 8, you find there’s a lot more to be worried about than cocktail parties and marble foyers. The dream image that families like the Cameron’s or the Thornton’s have up of the perfect, kook family is just that.

A dream. Part of the Cameron’s intimidation and rule over this side of the island comes from the twisted stories ladies in stilettos will whisper about at parties. 

Girls like you and Sarah, boys like Topper, they do alright. They hold up under scrutinization, under haughty, judging stares. People like Rafe crack. 

People that were like Rafe crack. They break, and the shards of who they used to be reassemble into something new. People that were like Rafe turn into who he is now. 

Rafe Cameron loves watching you squirm. That’s what he’s doing today, whistling at you as you lift a hand to block out the sun, hiking across the lawn to where Sarah is lounging. 

“Looking good, Y/l/n!” He cups his hands around his mouth. You flip him off in response, almost as if it’s second nature. He salutes you back. 

“Sarah!” You call out, trying not to trip over floppy $70 sandals as you stand over her chaise, casting a shadow over her. 

“Bitch, move, you’re blocking the sun.” She swatted a hand at you. 

“I have a proposition.” You settled your hands on your hips, sticking your elbows out. Sarah groaned, lifting her sunglasses up into her hair and propping herself up on her elbows. 

“Nothing good has ever happened any time you started with that line.” “It gets you to listen, doesn’t it?” You sat near her legs. She sighed. 

“Okay, shoot.” “Yes, okay, so there’s this party tonight, and I really, really need someone to go with me.” You began hesitantly. 

“That’s all? Yeah, I’m free tonight- “That’s not all.” You winced. “It’s not exactly, like, a kook party?” 

Sarah frowned. “What does that mean?” “I guess you could say it’s kind of the opposite of a kook party.” 

Her eyes widened. “It’s a pogue party? You want us to go to a pogue party?” “Not all of us! Just me and you! The boys will never find out.” “Why do you want to go so bad, anyways?” 

“I was,” you paused, searching for the right word, “invited.” “Invited?” “I promised someone I’d be there. And I also promised you’d be with me.” You boop her nose. 

Sarah sat up fully, swinging her legs over the chaise so she was sitting next to you. 

“I’ll go with you,” she flicks you when you cheer, “but I have a few conditions.” 

You nod dutifully. “Yes. Anything. I accept.” “Okay, first, Rafe and Topper, and subsequently Kelce, will never hear about this. Topper will die of shame, and I think Rafe will disown me.” “I don’t think you can disown your sibling.” “Well, then, he’ll be super disappointed. In both of us. He likes you more than he likes me.” “I’d be glad to get your brother to like me a little bit less. Maybe I could walk in your house without being catcalled. Sorry. No offense.” 

“None taken. I don’t like him either.” Sarah shoves your shoulder with hers. “Do you promise?” She sticks out a thumb towards you.

It’s a tradition you’ve kept since you were in the 6th grade, when Rafe decided the pinky promises you made were too childish for middle school and rallied the boys into teasing anyone who made them. Thumby promises were your escape. 

You hold up your thumb but hesitate to link it with hers, pulling it back at the last second. “Here’s the thing, I won’t tell anyone anything, but I can’t promise someone at the party won’t tell them. Also, what if they just show up? They go to these all the time.”  

Sarah shrugs. “Well, if they show up, then they can’t really be mad at us for being there. Okay, just promise you won’t tell them.” She shakes her thumb at you again, and this time you hook yours into it. 

“Promise. What are your other conditions?” “Right, the second is I get to borrow your pink bikini next time we go to the beach.” “Done.” “And lastly, you have to tell me who you promised.”

“What?” You blink at her. “You said you promised someone that we would be there. Who? Was it that one boy? The Maybank boy? Oh, what did we call him?” She scrunches her eyes shut to remember before she snaps. “Goldilocks!” 

Your cheeks flush red at her insinuation. Sarah might be the only person who knows about your 9th grade five-month-long obsession with JJ Maybank, sparked by your first kiss in a custodial closet. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had loved him, but it was an intense crush. Sarah had dubbed him Goldilocks after his phase of weirdly long hair. It ended abruptly, you just forgot all about him. You don’t remember what made you forget. 

“No, no, of course not. Ew, Sarah.” You shook your head. “It was Kiara.” 

Sarah’s eyes furrowed. “Kiara? Why would she want us around?” 

“I guess she wants to make amends?” “Okay, maybe with you, but I can guarantee Kiara wasn’t asking you to bring me.” “Maybe so. But someone there was asking for you.” “No, Y/n, no, I’m still with Topper.” “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious you both have a thing for each other. He was asking if you’d come, what was I supposed to say?” “No!”

“Okay, well, you already promised that you’d come, and I met all of your conditions so you don’t really have a choice.” You tipped your head at Sarah. 

“Fuck you.” She muttered. “Alright, fine. I’ll pick you up at 10.” 

“Yes! Okay, bye, I’ll see you tonight!” You grabbed her before she could swat you away and kissed her cheek goodbye. You patted her cheek and rushed off. 

“What, no bye-bye kiss for me?” Rafe called to you. “Fuck off, Rafe.” 

When Sarah came, 30 minutes later than she was supposed to, you were waiting on the steps of your house. 

“Finally!” You yanked the car door open and crashed in the passenger seat. 

“Sorry!” She pulled out of the driveway. “Rafe was interrogating me while I was trying to leave.” 

“Just floor it, Kiara won’t stop texting me.” “Nothing interesting ever happens at a party before 11, anyways.” 

Sarah was wrong. 

The second you pull up to the kegger, the crowd surrounding Rafe is already very obvious. Sarah grabs your hand, hustling you to the front of the crowd. He’s tossing around in the sand, trying to pin down JJ Maybank. 

“How did he get here before us?” “Because you were half an hour late!” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 

“Just help me, okay?” Sarah times herself against their wrestling, charging forward to grab Rafe’s arm when he draws it back to deliver a blow to JJ. 

“Rafe, stop! Stop!” She shouts, and always right behind her, you put your palms on his chest and push him back. You look back at Kiara who is tugging away JJ, but he stumbles, startled. His jaw is clenched and as she pulls him, he glances at you.

In that one glance is a split second of recognition, shock and confusion, before the moment passes and he’s forgotten you again. Closely followed by a medley of angry shouts and shoving from his friends. “Fucking kooks.” He mutters. 

You turn back to Rafe, who is ready to explode on Sarah. “What the hell are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here, Rafe? At least we were invited!” 

You’ve heard this conversation at least a hundred times, and you know how it ends. Bored of it already, you wipe your red cheeks and leave them to argue. 

This night has gone to shit and you haven’t even talked to Kiara yet. You’ve collapsed on a log to watch the waves crash and pull back when he sits next to you.

“Y/n Y/l/n. Well, damn. It’s been a while.” “A while? Try 2 years.” 

JJ scoffs. “Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” 

That shuts you up.

You’ve questioned yourself for two years about JJ. It was a short-lived story, but one full of young love, peeking glances and shy conversations. It was sweet and careless, and you believe something in your brain is blocking out the reasons it ended. 

The reasons you ignored him in the hallway the same way Rafe ignored you. 

The one thing you can’t block out is the lingering feeling. The warm, fuzzy butterflies of those small smiles and stuttered sentences. You feel them again when anyone brings him up. You felt them when Sarah guessed that he invited you here. 

Maybe you wished he did. 

You feel them now as you look at him up close for the first time in forever. And they’re stronger. 

The butterflies are stronger than they used to be. 

And that is how you stop questioning yourself, that is how you know that some part of your heart will always belong to JJ Maybank. 

You press your lips together and stare at him for a second longer. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” He ends your moment of bliss earlier than you had hoped. 

“Like what?” “Like you don’t recognize me. Like you don’t know me.” 

You sniff. “JJ, I don’t think I do.” 

JJ kicks the sand under his feet.

“That’s bullshit. You know me.” “I knew you. I knew 14 year old you.” You correct him. 

“Have I really changed that much?” He laughs.

 “You have, you know?” He keeps going when you say nothing. “I had such a big fucking thing for you, god.”

“Yeah, it was mutual.” “I know!” He exclaims, excited, then tries again, softer. “I know.” 

“And then, you just ditched me.” He says abruptly. 

“That’s not what- “That’s exactly what happened!” He interrupts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. 

“You just cut me out of your life. What, did you outgrow a pogue? Only rich boys are good enough for the kook princess?” His tone gets more and more aggressive. 

“I’m telling you, that is not how it happened.” You insist. 

“Okay, you know what, okay,” JJ turns towards you, scratching his head. “So, if that’s not what happened, then what was it? Because it hurt, Y/n. It hurt so fucking bad.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “I don’t need an apology, I want to know what I did. Why did you stop wanting to be around me?”

The questions brings your racing mind to a full stop. You had been praying he wouldn’t ask. 

You don’t have an answer for him. 

“I don’t- I genuinely don’t know, JJ. It just stopped, okay?” “That’s more BS. Things just don’t end. I get it now. I get what happened. I get your reasons.” He begins nodding. 

JJ looks up then, and his face tightens, jaw clenching the same way it did after the fight. 

“And one of those reasons is walking this way.” 

You turn to see what he’s looking at, and Rafe Cameron is stumbling towards you two. You turn to ask JJ what that means, when Rafe grabs your shoulder and nearly flings you back around to look at him. You can smell the beer on his breath. 

“Y/n, what are you doing with this guy? I’ve been looking for you all night!” He grabs your wrist. “C’mon, we’re going.” He slurs, trying to drag you away. 

“Rafe, stop!” You pull back your wrist, stunning him for a second. “I’m not going with you. Tell Sarah I’ll get a ride with Kiara.” 

He tightens his grasp on you. “To what, spend more time with this asshole? Let’s go.” He growls. 

“Let go of me, I’m not coming with you!” You use your other hand to try and force Rafe’s grip off your wrist. “I’m sick of this, Rafe!” You finally push him off of you and he stumbles back, sobering up a little. 

“I’m so sick of this!” You stumble over your words. “You’re scaring me! Who the hell are you, Rafe? Who are you?” You pull the loose hair that the wind has blown over your face out of the way. “Don’t- don’t touch me. I’m not coming with you. Don’t touch me.” 

You can’t tell if Rafe is sober right now or not, but you pray he’s not. If he’s high, then maybe he’ll forget what you just said to him. If he’s high, maybe  the next time you have to see him, you won’t have to see the wounded look he gives you now. “Y/n,” he starts towards you, but he doesn’t reach for you. His eyes are sad when he speaks again. “I’m sorry.” 

He reaches for you now. “I’m sor-”She said don’t touch her.” 

JJ has steps in front of you as you scramble back, effectively blocking you from Rafe. 

“Get out of the way, Maybank.” “She said don’t touch her. She won’t be going with you, so you can leave now. Head on out, cowboy.” JJ gives him a fake smile, one you can hear in his voice. 

“This doesn’t concern you, pogue.” Rafe spits. 

“Go home, Rafe.” Your voice comes out strong. You try to move around JJ, but he uses his arm to keep you tucked behind him. 

“What, you’re protecting pogues now, Y/n? What is this, is he your boyfriend or something?” Rafe snickers. 

JJ glances back at you before he turns to Rafe and confidently says, “Yeah. I am.” 

Your eyes grow to the size of saucers, mimicking Rafe’s expression. 

“What the fuck?” Rafe mumbles. 

“Yeah, so why don’t you leave now. I’ll be taking Y/n home.” JJ’s voice is stone cold. 

“Y/n, is this true? Are you dating this fucker?” Rafe jabs a finger in JJ’s chest, staring him down but speaking to you. The hand JJ is using to keep you back moves up to pinch your side when you glance at him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s true.” 

Rafe laughs slowly, one of disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Y/l/n. You know what, you deserve each other.” He backs away slowly, then turns and storms out of sight. 

JJ turns around and his mouth opens and closes, but he says nothing. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I just wanted him to leave you alone without starting something, I’m- “It’s fine, Maybank.” You run a hand through your hair. 

“It’s fine, just. Just take me home.”