#that one has like 6? 7k

[bugflies00]

everyone talking about their most famous posts I Don’t Wish To Talk About Mine .

[originalgenshinscenarios]

I can't be the only person who finds it funny how fandom Guizhong looks nothing like the real one

I mean, I always saw her as a mature looking beauty. Each time I drew her I did so differently because I just knew I shouldn't get attached to one design. But I like her real design! It's very cute, and I love the details within it.

I'm just so happy to see her! It will lead me to drawing just Guili tho... Too bad since I had an idea for a Heishino comic. And well, like I posted before seeing her might be the cause of me delaying the monthly special since even tho I had this chapter planned out.... I just can't execute it when I keep thinking about more and more Guili ideas.

I just love angsty ships too much... hope yall aren't TOO disappointed by me putting my work aside.

[maiverie]

THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚

you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.

in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff

word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k

fic one of the chasing rainbows series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚

“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett

now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚

THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.

after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummel from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 

lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.

this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.

when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.

you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 

the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 

the person is drenched and miserable.

and practically radiating angst and despair.  

because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.

they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.

park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 

park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 

and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 

oh.

you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 

crap.

you should say something.

you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”

sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 

“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 

“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 

the rumors are so true. 

sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.

in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.

“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 

“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”

oh god.

you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.

his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.

you wish he’d say something.

anything. literally anything.

but he’s silent.

well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?

just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.

“. . . niki.”

huh?

you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.

“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”

oh.

your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 

“so where’s niki now?”

he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”

“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 

stupid stupid stupid. 

why are you rambling so much? 

sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”

you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”

he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”

you blinked in surprise. “how?”

he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 

you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.

you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 

“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”

“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”

“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”

he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”

your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”

sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.

how pretty.

his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 

you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 

it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 

“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”

“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 

“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”

“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 

sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 

he knows your name.

he’ll see you around.

you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.

and he wants you to get home safe.

.

( to be continued )

this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !

a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe 🤓

[toxicanonymity]

Hunger.

7k, raider!Joel x f!reader

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

raider playlist 🖤sweet pea (smutty)

SUMMARY: Joel takes you on an eventful trek. You have a bit of a meltdown and he comforts you in a way he hadn't before. He kills a guy. And later, Joel finally goes down on you because he craves you and can't physically resist. WARNINGS: I8+ oral f receiving 🎉, unsafe P in V, creampie, jacking off, brief violence (og raider typical?), hurt/comfort, neglected animal (he's ok), angst, dark fluff, emotional tension, POV changes. A/N: 1/3 smut. Can read alone - Joel has been resisting the urge to kiss you. Carter is Joel's right-hand man. Jack was your bf Joel killed. Happy 6 months to the 1st raider Joel fic, have some oral.

—You 🌸🫛—

You're reading in a clover patch at one end of the trailer while Joel chops wood. Two of his men come up the hill, and Joel tells you to stay put while he talks to them. Even when Joel addresses you, they don't look in your direction. They stay in the doorway of the trailer. You put your book face down and start looking at the clovers while you try to eavesdrop.  You can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like someone might have tampered with one of the vans. You brush your hand through the leaves, and one catches your eye. Without plucking it, you gently separate it from the others to make sure it's not an illusion. There really are four leaves. You smile and get down on your stomach to look at it. You think about leaving it so it can grow more. That's what you did when you found one earlier in the week, but you pluck this one.

The men go back down the hill, and Joel goes inside for a moment before emerging again. You're laying the clover leaves flat between the pages of your book when Joel calls you inside. Then he leans against the trailer with an arm above his head, the side of his wrist resting near the top of the door frame as he waits for you.  He's wearing a body holster now. "C'mon, let's go," he shouts so you can hear him. 

"Ok," you call. 

You just want to finish pressing the clover into the page, but he rushes you: "Now." 

"What for," you ask.

"Cause I said." He disappears inside, and his back looks so broad, framed by the holster straps. 

You come in and pout in the window nook with your book closed, waiting for him to explain. There's a belt on the kitchen table.  Joel emerges from the bedroom and tells you he's going down the hill to help fix the van, and you're coming.  

“you good in that?” he asks, looking at your spaghetti strap dress. You nod. You like the dresses he gave you, and it’s still warm enough, you think.  He confirms, “Sure ya won’t be cold?” and you nod. He seems glad. 

He approaches the kitchen table holding something strappy and leather. He pulls out a chair and faces you in the window nook. 

"C'mere," he says. "Gonna carry your gun today." 

"Oh," you put down the book. Sounds exciting. Sounds like he trusts you. "Yeah, sure," you try to play it cool. He takes your knees and swings your legs toward him. 

"Gonna see if this piece'a shit's worth anything. If not, ya wear mine okay?" He thumbs the shoulder strap of his holster. 

You frown and mutter, "I like when you wear it," eyeing the muscles straining his white shirt.  He suppresses a smile, but you see it in his eyes. 

"Gimme your leg," he commands. You give him your leg on your shooting side. You watch his face. He has a toothpick behind his ear.  He bends your knee and puts your foot on his thigh. He lets the skirt of your dress fall all the way down your raised leg, exposing your panties. His eyes linger there, and he draws in a slow breath as he unbuckles the strap of the holster. He wraps the strap around your thigh and mutters, "good."  He slides the strap into the buckle, then tightens it. "Too tight?" He asks. 

"No."

He fastens the buckle on your inner thigh, and his massive hands map your thigh, checking the fit. You flinch in pleasure as his fingers graze the edge of your panties.

There's a long ribbon dangling from the other end of the holster where another strap should be. He laces it through two hand made grommets on each side. There are two more empty holes on the top of each side. 

"Here," you offer and take both ends of the ribbon from him. You tie it in a bow on the outside of your thigh. 

"That gonna hold?" He asks. 

You shrug. "Feels ok, what do you think?"

He's not listening. His eyes have returned between your legs. You spread them a little more, and innocently widen your eyes. He wets his lips, and his gaze remains for another inhale, then he pries his eyes away, sticks the toothpick in his mouth, and lets your foot down.  You stand up and he hands you your gun, then adjusts himself, quickly cupping his crotch through his pants as you slide the gun into the holster. 

"Walk," he mumbles. 

You walk the length of the kitchen. 

It's a weird sensation, having one of your legs burdened by a weight while the other one is free. But aside from that, it's fine. 

"Alright?" He asks.

"Yeah." 

He nods, "Good. C'mere."  You stand right in front of him, between his knees. "Hold your dress up for me."

You hold it up over the holster. 

"Higher. Belly button." 

He grabs the belt from the table and when he picks it up, ribbons are dangling from its holes. The ribbons have their ends burned and melted like a shoelace for threading.  He fastens the belt securely around your bare middle, then threads the loose ribbons through the empty grommets on the top of the holster and secures them. 

He turns you to the side, tugs at the ribbon, and mutters, "good." Then he can't help but grab a handful of ass, and your bottom lip creeps under your teeth.

As he turns you to face him again, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth and gives you a serious look. "Comin' with me today, sweet pea. Ya do what I say, understand?"

You nod.

"I say get outta here, ya run. I say stay put, ya don't fuckin' move." 

"Got it."

—-

He puts the toothpick behind his ear and picks up a few pieces of jerky off the counter as he stands up. He hands you a piece. 

You take a bite and chew it as you walk down the hill. You watch his jaw flex when he chews.  You tell him, "This one's good."

"Cause Carter made it," Joel notes.  You cringe at yourself,but he doesn't seem offended. "Turkey," he adds. 

Turkey, that's why. Much better than venison. You haven't had poultry in a while, not even grouse. Traps have been empty. 

"I love yours," you tell him. 

Joel gives you an appreciative pat on the back of your head, then his hand trails down your back, over the swell of your ass. He slides his hand under your dress and palms your butt cheek. He lifts it, then lets it drop. 

Joel brings you around the front of the stash house where the vans are normally parked and tells you to wait. There’s only one van. One of the other guys took the second van to get gas and isn’t back yet. 

You reach under your dress and adjust the holster as you sit down on a patch of grass to watch. Joel's muscles glisten and flex as he lifts the hood of the van and props it open. He looks around the inside of the van and dabs his head with a bandana that he tucks back into his pocket . He looks under the van while you pick tall blades of grass and braid them together. 

When he's done, he tells you they need a part. Need to go to the junkyard and see if they can find one. You’re going with him and Carter on foot.

—

The junkyard is a few miles on the other side of Joel’s trailer. You go down that side of the hill and walk through the abandoned mobile home park to get there. It’s the first time you’ve seen most of it close-up, aside from through the scope of Joel’s rifle. The rest of the journey is mostly on a dirt road, and you have to climb through a fence to get into the junkyard. 

It feels like you’re there for a long time. You hear the weak bark of a dog in the distance. Joel thinks it’s coming from the woods. It stops.  There’s a house that looks abandoned, but Joel thinks there might be junkies in it. He says they gather around there. He’s even found one sleeping in a car. When Carter finds a part they think will work, they have trouble taking it off the truck. They don’t have the right tools. Brute force isn’t an option because it could easily break. 

The three of you cautiously approach the house and the barking starts again. The structure is run down, and the windows are busted out. It’s small, can’t be more than a couple of rooms. 

—--

As Carter sweeps the house, you go around back with Joel, and there's the dog. He's skinny and his bark is weak and strained. He's chained to a pipe on the side of the house. The pipe has been pulled a little bit outward so it's leaning, but he wasn't strong enough to free himself. He's a scrappy little mutt with a floppy ear. Probably less than 20 lbs (9 kg). You and Joel both stare at the dog, then Carter calls from inside, “Miller!”

Joel looks around to make sure you’ll be alright for a minute. “Don’t move. Stay alert. Hand on your gun.” 

As Joel goes inside,  Carter says, “Think he’s alive.” 

“Infected?”Joel asks. 

“Nah, see the track marks?”

“Piece’a shit left his dog to die.” 

Outside, the dog watches you. He sits attentively with his head down.  You put on a soothing voice for him. "Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin'?" He lowers his head almost to the ground as he slowly stretches his arms out, then his tail starts to wag hesitantly, staying close to the ground. He begins to whine.  There are a couple of bones behind him with no meat left on them at all. 

Carter comes out to watch you.  There's a metal bowl upside down out of the dog's reach.  "He needs water," you say. Carter looks around then reaches into his backpack and hands you his water. You pour some into the dish for the dog, and his tail begins to wag with more pep. When you reach out to touch the dog, he flinches and backs away, then cautiously returns and gets closer to you than he was. 

Carter gets closer, and when he reaches out for the dog, it growls and barks ferociously. Carter isn't afraid–it's too small to be afraid of. He reaches for the dog's collar and the dog chomps his hand with a vicious growl, high pitched from his throat. He doesn't want to let go.

"DAMN!" Carter yells. "SHIT," he shakes his hand.

"No," you firmly tell the dog. The dog lowers his stomach onto the ground and raises his brows pathetically with a whine. 

"He's just scared," you tell Carter as he rinses the wound with the rest of his water.

"I know, I know," Carter nods. He puts his water back in his backpack. "Feisty little fucker." He spits on the ground. 

“We’ve gotta get him out of this,” you mutter.  

Carter tries to stop you. “Don’t touch–”

You hold your hand out to the dog, and Carter sighs in resignation. The dog reaches his neck out to sniff you, then licks you. He lets you touch him. Then you touch his collar and he growls, but not as bad. The collar has inner spikes that must be hurting him. It's too big and has some slack hanging down from where it's been tightened.

Joel comes outside with a bag of tools clinking heavily against each other. 

"What the hell's goin' on out here?" You give Carter a hopeful glance and he doesn't snitch on the dog for biting him. 

You look at Joel. "He's gonna die if we don't get him free," you explain.  Joel lunges toward the dog and you try to warn him, "WAIT-"  Joel stops short of bending over and instead looks at you. The dog goes after his ankle, bearing his teeth and going nuts.  Joel shakes his leg free. You tell the dog, “No" and he submits on the ground with a whine. Joel looks at the dog and raises his gun. 

"You wouldn't," you whine. "He's protecting me."

“Course i wouldn’t. Damn.”

Joel steps closer and aims at the drain pipe behind the dog, shooting the chain to break it. It hurts your ears but it works. The dog yelps and skips out from the building, chain dragging behind him. Joel takes the bag of tools back to the truck where they found the part, leaving Carter with you while you try to free the dog. 

"C'mere," you sit back on your knees and open your arms for the dog. With the freedom of movement, you can work the collar off him. The dog whimpers and paws at the collar with you. When he lets out a sharper, high pitched whimper, you freeze as it triggers a memory. Your chest feels hollow and long-buried grief stabs at the backs of your eyes. You push it away. You don't want to cry. You want to be tough and whatever else you need to be for Joel to always take you with him. The dog whimpers again and you return to the task. You free him from the collar and he trots away from the house. 

— Joel ⛓️ —

When he gets back, the dog is playfully pawing at your knees.  You scratch behind his ears and he rolls over. One look at your face and Joel knows what you want. 

"Alright, let's go," Joel says and looks at the ground next to you. He steps forward and the dog growls. "It's ok," you tell the dog and you reach for Joel's hand. 

“Maybe he wants to come with us,” you say as casually as you can. 

Joel clenches his jaw and shakes his head. 

"I can take care of him," you plead, your eyes big and watery. "He's not big, he doesn't need much." 

Joel shifts his weight as he looks at you for a moment. "I know ya get bored-"

"Not because I'm bored," you protest. "He's hungry."

"No," Joel tells you firmly and your tears overflow. God damnit, not here. He's hungry because he was chained. He'll be fine now.

Joel doesn't want to share resources, doesn’t want the barking to attract attention, and doesn’t want someone to come after the dog–after you–if there’s anyone left to come. The junkie inside is as good as dead, but they run in packs and they’re dangerous.  

"It's for your own good, sweet pea.” Joel really thinks it is. 

You shake your head no. "I had one," you sniffle. "Before." 

Joel’s nostrils flare at the shake of your head, then his stomach drops. He doesn't want to know about before. He does, but he really doesn't. He covers his mouth with the crook of his thumb as he rubs both sides of his beard. Before. It gets harder and harder to avoid. He shakes it off.  All he can do is keep you safe and take care of you the best he can, which means taking care of only you. He shakes his head no again, then reaches into his backpack. He throws a piece of jerky as far as he can. “He’s fed, Gonna be fine.” He throws another piece. 

You watch the dog run off for the jerky, but you're in a trance, thinking about something else. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Joel steps forward, wraps a hand around the inside of your bicep, and gently pulls.  You try to resist walking, and his grip gets firmer. You stand there watching the dog, feet planted on the ground, muscle tensing under Joel's grip.

Joel faces you and cups your face with both hands, making you look at him. He gets a few inches from your face and lowers his voice.  “Ain’t gonna spank ya in front’a Carter, but ya better move.”  He means it. Non-negotiable.

He grabs your arm again, and as he starts dragging you away, you blurt out, "Her name was Daisy. She saved my life."

Joel ignores it.  “Move. Now. Or I’m pickin’ ya up.”  You relent and stop resisting. Smart. He wouldn't want to regret bringing you with them.

Joel squints into the ground as the two of you walk. Carter walks ahead, not wanting to get in the middle of it.  “Maybe this one could save me, too," you suggest. "if you’re gone.” 

Damnit sweet pea, you sure are smart. Nice try, but that's what Carter is for.

"Dog that size?” Joel laughs. You compose yourself. You walk in silence for a few minutes, but Joel is still thinking about it. “How,” Joel asks, and adjusts his backpack. “How’d she save you? Must’a been bigger, right? meaner?”

Carter looks over his shoulder with a side-eye at the word “meaner,” but doesn’t reveal his injury.  

You don’t answer Joel. You're checked out. You keep eyeing the tree line, but you wouldn’t. . . There's no way you’d run, right? 

You look at him with your eyes red. “You don’t wanna hear it.” 

The vacant look on your face makes Joel stop in his tracks to face you. “Tell me,” he demands. 

You sniffle and look toward the tree line again. “Can I go pee?”

Joel can’t read you right now, which disturbs him. “Yeah,” he mutters and puts his massive hand on your back, guiding you to the edge of the forest. 

He starts to come in behind you, and you ask him, “Do you mind if I go?” 

He swallows and furrows his brow as he looks at you. You must read his concern, because you hand him your bag. He nods. He steps into the woods, but tries to give you some space, without losing track of you. He doesn't wanna have to chase you down, but damnit he'll tackle you if he has to, to save you from yourself. His stomach is uneasy.

There’s a hollow, rusted truck about 30 paces away. You go on the other side of it. Joel knows you’re not just pouting about leaving the dog. There's more to this. But you’re right, he’s not sure if he wants to know. 

Until he hears you sniffling, and it's not just sad, it's scared, painful.

Ah, fuck it. He moves as quietly as he can.

“Sweet pea,” he says softly as he walks around the old hollowed-out car. You’re squatting–not peeing, just hugging your knees, facing the abandoned car. You're shaking and your cheeks are wet. There's not much space, but Joel gets between you and the car.  He takes his backpack off and drops it to the side.

“She wasn’t afraid like me, Daisy,” you choke out and wipe your cheeks with the heel of one palm.  “They,” you croak. You pause and try again. “He had a gun-” you close your eyes. “Pointed at, pointed at me," you take a deep breath and keep your eyes pinched shut. "He was, he was gonna—but she wouldn’t," you choke on a breath. "She wouldn't stop barking.”  

"Shhhhh, it's ok." Joel cuts you off. It's too hard to see you re-living this. He doesn't want you to get to the details. He squats down. His head is full of pressure, and his heart is full of rage. You take shaky, shallow breaths. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder and lets his knees into the ground. “Breathe,” he says. “Breathe, sweet pea.”  You lean forward, letting your weight into his arms, and he holds you for a minute as you regain your breath.  He cradles your head.  "Yeah, you're okay, I got ya."  He buries his mouth in your hair. "I got ya, baby," he whispers. You wipe your eyes on his shoulder and your cheek catches on the holster.  When you lift your head, you apologize and he shakes his head no.  He brushes a fresh tear off your cheek, and arousal stirs in his pants.  

“Who did it,” he asks, unable to mask the darkness in his question. 

“Just a guy,” you tell him. A guy like himself, Joel assumes with disdain. 

“What kinda guy” 

You sigh and he hates making you think about this, but he needs the answer. “Mean. Had a gold tooth.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and nods. 

"FEDRA," you add, and Joel's face goes cold. His mind goes blank. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe as the life is sucked out of him and replaced by ice cold rage. FEDRA. Not a guy like him.

 “How’d ya get away?” Joel asks. 

You look at him for a second, doing a double take at his face.  You shake your head. “You don’t wanna hear it." You bury your head in his neck again. You’re right, he doesn’t want to, but he insists.  

“Tell me.” 

“Jah–” you stop and look at Joel’s face. His jaw clenches. He knows what's coming, but the thought of FEDRA has fortified him with numbness. 

“S’okay, sweet pea.”

“Jack shot’m.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and looks up at the forest canopy, then bows his head and looks at your knees, bracketed by his own. For a moment, Joel is filled with an uncomfortable appreciation for Jack. But that fades into, no, it should have been Joel, he should’ve had you all along, he should’ve been there to save you *and* your dog. 

“He take good care of ya?” Joel asks in self-loathing. 

You shrug. 

“Better than. . .now?” He can take it.

“No,” you shake your head. “He didn’t shoot him dead.” 

Jackass fucking moron cuck. He left that motherfucker breathing? Suddenly Joel is glad he killed Jack. 

Joel nods, “I see.” He keeps nodding slowly, looking to his right at the moss on a far off tree, clenching his jaw.

"And I didn't have a gun," you add. "Cause I killed a guy Jack said not to." Joel scoffs. You could've killed the guy yourself if not for Jack.

You continue,  “and. . . Jack didn’t cook.” Joel chuckles, caught off guard -- he'd forgetten his original question. You keep going, “And he didn’t–I didn’t–I didn’t feel the same,” you wipe your eyes.  This has gone far enough, and Joel knows it's his own fault. His stupid question.  He takes the toothpick from behind his ear.

You look at him with your eyes all watery, and Joel's cock twitches. The next thing he knows, his massive hand is wrapped gently around your jaw. You put your hands on his shoulders, then straddle him. You wrap your arms around his neck. 

"Mmm," he sighs as your warm crotch meets the bulge in his jeans, and he swells harder against you. He holds your face about two inches from his, looking down at your mouth, then your nose, and your eyes again. He puts his toothpick in his mouth and looks past you as he lets go of your jaw. You bury your head in his neck, blinking warm tears into his skin, making him harder. He whispers your name. He relaxes and takes the toothpick out of his mouth just in time for a branch to fall on the car with a loud clang. 

"All good?" Carter yells from the treeline. 

“Shouldn’t stay here long,” Joel mumbles as he puts it back behind his ear. ”Bad area.” He eases you off his lap back onto your feet, as you both stand up. He brushes dead leaves off his pants and your knees. He adjusts himself, puts his backpack over one shoulder, then reaches down and you take his hand.  You walk a few steps together and he looks back at you slightly behind him. He realizes you’re shaking. He drops your hand, goes in his backpack, and pulls out a flannel that he packed even though you said you were fine. He unfolds it, holds it out, and helps you put it on. 

“Thanks,” you whisper and rub your nose. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck as you walk.

Joel stews and broods as you leave the forest together. He wants to go back in time and kill everyone who’s ever hurt you, anyone who let you get hurt, and anyone who failed to hurt the people who hurt you. His muscles are all tense, and his veins are throbbing.

When you get to the treeline, Joel asks Carter, "Can ya gimme five?"

"Sure thing, boss.".

“No ones gonna miss that asshole," Joel mutters as he checks his gun then sets his sights on the house. 

Joel can’t go back in time, but by God, he’s got to kill someone. He drops his backpack then hurries back to the abandoned house, rifle in both hands. When he gets there, he puts the rifle around his back and grabs the dog chain off the ground on his way in. 

—---You 🌸🫛-—

You and Carter look at each other. “How’s your hand?” you ask him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “I dunno where the little bugger went,” he looks around for the dog.  

You both ignore the sound of the chain thrashing around until you hear grunting and look toward the house. Punches are landing. Carter puts a hand on his rifle but doesn’t move yet. Joel grunts and yells between punches. A minute later, Joel steps out of the house, walking backwards, with the chain pulled taught, and a bloody man dragging behind him. Joel kicks him up against the wall, hits him in the face with the butt of his rifle, then wraps the chain around the drain pipe where the dog was tied up. Joel hits the man again, then aims the rifle and calmly shoots him. Even if you never see the dog again, you're certain the dog is better off without that man. Joel wipes blood splatter off his brow and scowls at the ground as he walks back to you and Carter.

“Ya good?” Carter asks him. 

Joel nods. He’s sweaty, chest heaving.  You try not to let your eyes linger on the remaining blood. You observe his throbbing veins instead. The whole scene has you clenching your thighs.

You walk mostly in silence. When you stop for water, you realize you're being followed. Joel doesn’t notice, but you see the dog duck behind an old car when you turn around. You keep a straight face.

You hear something in the distance. Dust is kicked up down the road. Carter says, “Finally.”  It’s the van that still works, picking you up. You didn't know it was coming and wish the dog could follow you the rest of the way home, but you don’t say anything. You're glad he's unchained. 

—–

When you get back to the stash house, Joel works on the broken down van. When he’s done for the day, he takes you back to the trailer and washes the grease off. When he comes out of the bathroom, you're sitting in the window nook looking at your book, but thinking about the dog. He comes over, wiping his hands off on a towel. "Wanna go out 'n' shoot?" He seems to want to cheer you up.  

Joel goes first. He looks through the scope at the trailer park. Ever since those guys showed up one night, he's looking for other raiders or troublemakers. Then he lines up a shot at the usual target. Your eyes are on his biceps. When Joel is about to take aim, the rare sound of ducks honking startles you. They should’ve already flown South. Joel gets up on his knees and aims toward the front of the flock. He hits one, shifts ahead of the flock, and hits another. It gives you butterflies. You hear a thud as the second one hits the ground. 

“Nice!” you tell him. He winks at you and puts the gun strap over his shoulder. You smooth your dress under your butt as you stand up, then adjust the thigh holster. Joel groans as he stands up. You peer down toward where the birds fell, and something is moving up the hill. A bird, moving strangely. A dead bird, in a little dog's mouth. 

You gasp. Joel looks at you, then follows your eyes. The bird is as big as the dog.  His mouth is open wide to fit the neck.  He crests the hill and drops the bird. "Good boy!" You praise. He does a happy circle and trots back down the hill. 

You look at Joel and try not to smile. Joel puts his hand on his hip and shifts his weight to one leg. He looks down at the ground and rubs brow with the flat of his index finger, squinting. When the dog returns with the second bird, Joel mutters, "alright, big guy," and squats down to accept the bird from his mouth.  Then you barely hear him mutter, "good boy." The dog does another circle and trots around the other side of the trailer. 

 "How'd he find us, all this way?" You marvel. 

"Must have some hound in’m," Joel shakes his head. “Guess ya made an impression.” 

Joel starts a fire and boils two big pots of water. The dog keeps a respectful distance, lounging in the same clover patch where you were sitting earlier. Joel chops the heads and feet off the birds, and tosses them on the ground. The dog scurries over, wagging his tail. He drags one of the duck heads over to the grass to chew on with his butt in the air and his tail wagging furiously, all the way upright now. 

Joel beckons you back inside to wash up and change. He takes a quick shower while you take off the flannel and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. You take off the belt, untethering the ribbons, but you leave the holster on. You sit back down in the window nook.

—-

When Joel comes out from the bathroom, he sits down, manspreads, and pats the kitchen table in front of him, looking at the skirt of your dress as you get up from your seat. You unholster your gun and set it down, then use your hands to help yourself onto the surface, sitting on your dress so your thighs won't stick.  Joel spreads your knees so he can be between them, and grabs your ass to scoot you closer. 

He lifts the dress to look at the holster, and he puts his toothpick in his mouth. 

"s'prised it worked," he mutters. He eyes your legs and runs his hands all the way up your thighs with a deep breath.  "Looks good on ya, too," he murmurs. He thumbs the ribbon of the holster, then unties it. He unbuckles the real strap, too. Then he lifts your knee, slides the holster out from under you, and sets it aside with the gun. He runs his hand over the indentation in your skin from the buckle. "that hurt?" He asks. 

"No." 

He puts his elbows down on either side of your hips, and his biceps rest against your thighs. He looks back and forth between your breasts and takes the toothpick out of his mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he throws it into the kitchen sink and it hits the metal with a light plink. 

He furrows his brow and looks at your body, then puts his cheek flat against your breast at the lace neckline of your cotton dress while he palms the opposite tit. He turns his face to nose your nipple, and it hardens through the fabric of your dress. He dampens the cotton with his mouth as he flattens his tongue against it. One hand holds your back, near your shoulder blade for leverage, with his thumb hooked under your arm. 

He kisses wetly at your breast through your dress, then glances up at you. His hands slide up to the straps of your dress. He gently nudges the straps off your shoulder. His fingers skim your nipples as he curls his thick fingers into the lace neckline, then pulls the dress down below your tits.  He presses his wide tongue onto your nipple and closes his eyes as he latches onto it. Then he lets go with a soft pop and sucks below the nipple as he massages the other breast.  You're gushing arousal with your legs wide open.  He inhales through his nose and his stomach growls. 

"Joel," you sigh, resting your hands on his muscular back. You watch his vein 

His only response is "Mmm," into your nipple.  You're throbbing, and the more attention he pays to your tits, the more your cunt aches to be filled. You want to let him explore your body, it's not something he normally does, but it also makes you want his cock so bad. You want him to slide you off the table and sink you onto his massive erection. He's really taking his time.  You take a deep breath and try to relax. Your clit twitches. 

Joel pulls down the dress a little more, exposing an inch or two below your breasts. He switches sides, dragging his mouth to his right, your left.  With your left nipple in his mouth, he looks up at you and makes sleepy eye contact. His pupils are blown wide. 

"Joel, I want it," you plead.

His tongue trails as he moves his mouth an inch to the right of your nipple, then he closes his eyes again. He licks and sucks the outer curve of your breast, massaging the other one with a thumb lightly brushing the nipple, then the heel of his palm flattening it into your breast. His eyes open to watch his massive hand moving languidly on your breast. 

You whine his name again and slot your fingers into his dark, curly hair. He doesn't look up. You finger his curls and the pads of your fingers lightly caress his scalp. He pulls his mouth off your breast and backs his head away enough to look at your body. You let your fingers fall out of his hair and rest back on his shoulders. One of his hands moves to rest on your hip, his fingers curling around your flesh and his thumb brushing the hem of your dress. 

His voice is low and husky. "Ever feel like ya just. . ." He meets your gaze with hungry eyes, then looks at your lips. "gotta have your mouth on somethin’?"

His eyes fall down your body as he sits back and palms himself through his jeans.  You whisper "yeah," with a smile and begin to scoot off the table so you can suck him off. He abruptly leans forward and stops you with both hands firmly on your hips. He doesn't let you move. His brow furrows. He looks back and forth between your breasts and noses a nipple again. He murmurs low and gruff into your supple skin,  "Ain't talkin' 'bout you."

Your chest erupts in goosebumps.  He drags his hands down your dress to the bare skin of your legs, then slides his massive palms back up your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress, leaving his thumbs hooked on top. You brace your hands on the table to lift your butt for him. His hands keep moving up, reaching your hips.  The fabric of your dress bunches above your ass, then he curls his fingers under the waistband of your panties and begins to take them down. You let yourself back down on the table as he slides the underwear down your legs. It dangles between his fingers as he brings his hand to your neck and caresses the side of your throat with his thumb.

You feel the damp cotton against your throat and smell your own arousal as he grips your jaw. He locks eyes with you for less than a second before his gaze drifts downward. He returns his other palm to your breast, fingers slotting under your arm to hold you steady as he pushes you down until your back is flat on the table. He nudges your thighs farther apart.  He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and hums "Mmm." 

He drops the panties on the table. He spreads you open and thumbs your folds, bringing the moisture up to your clit.  He hunches over to bring his face between your legs and his left hand reaches up to fondle a breast.  He drags his nose through your slick and inhales, then moans at your scent. He plants his mouth on the crease of your thigh. He sucks the skin into his mouth, then lets go. He runs two knuckles through your folds, then gently nudges his middle finger  inside. Your walls spasm around the intrusion and he breathes, "god damn." 

He pumps his finger once and adds a second digit. You moan, and he hums a deep "Mmm," in response.  He takes his fingers out and sucks one, then both into his mouth.  "Fuck," he breathes. 

He doesn't waste any more time, spreading you wide open with his thumbs and burying his face in your cunt. He starts at your entrance where your wetness pools and licks up from there, punctuating the first lick with a kiss on the clit that makes your thighs tremble. Then he laps at you more selfishly, like he's thirsty, like he needs to drink you. His tongue starts flat and stiffens as he digs for more and explores each crevasse. He moans into your folds.  You've never felt anything as powerful and precise as his tongue.  It's stronger than his fingers.  It makes you tingle in one swipe, then presses into the tingle for relief.  He holds you gently until you wriggle in pleasure and he holds you down firmer with one forearm across your lower belly.  

He breathes through his nose and moans as he devours you. When he pauses, he draws in a deeper breath through his mouth then exhales vocally against your wet cunt. 

"Feel good?" He asks with a glance to your face, then plants his mouth on your clit. 

He slides one then two fingers into your core again and you gasp then answer "y-yeah," as he sucks your clit while he pumps them. 

He takes his arm off your abdomen to unbutton his pants and take his stiff cock out. He pulls his face away from your pussy. You're throbbing, and your body races to replenish all the moisture he's sucked up. He gathers some on his fingers then also spits into his hand and wraps it around his length. You want it inside you so, so bad. You hear the squelching as his hand moves up and down his shaft. 

He brings his face between your legs again and puts his arm back on top of you to hold you still, angling his elbow so his thumb is planted at your clit. He laps at you again, moaning into your throbbing, swollen lips. He firmly licks between your clit and hole, then thrusts his tongue into your entrance and you whimper. He tilts his head and jabs his sharpened tongue into you again and again, pumping his cock all the while.  He noses your clit as he sucks and laps, then fucks you with his tongue again.  

You writhe under his arm. "Yeah," he whispers before planting his mouth again. He works your clit with his thumb as he thrusts his tongue into you, dragging it against the top wall, and your desperate cunt twitches against him. You let out a long whine, and his thumb gently rubs the top of your clit, over your hood. 

"Joel," you whimper and it turns into a moan. 

His thumb slows down, and he gathers more slick on his fingers. He wipes it on his shaft, then pulls you by the thighs closer to the edge, unsticking your bare ass from the table. You sit up on your elbows and whimper, "want you. . ."  

He's holding his cock, chest heaving. "Want this?"

"Yeah-yes," you whimper. "Please."

He gazes darkly at your cunt and decides, "Ain't done yet."

You whine his name as he puts his face between your legs again. He sucks your clit for a few seconds until you're whimpering, then he plants his mouth a little lower.  He flattens two fingers to rubs your clit while he fucks you with his tongue. You moan his name as your climax seizes you, and you clench around his tongue. He moves his hand from your clit to your mound to hold you steady as you come. He withdraws his tongue from your hole and laps up and down your folds for a few seconds as you continue to twitch. 

Then he stands up, holding his stiff, wet cock.  His face is flushed, and he's shiny from the nose down.  He braces a hand on the table and teases your clit with his swollen tip.  You flinch in pleasure, still reeling from your first orgasm. He notches his tip at your wet little hole, holds onto your thighs,.and shoves himself into you with a groan. He stays in for a moment, sighing “Ohh, fuck,” admiring your body as it rushes to accommodate him. You spasm around him, still twitching with aftershocks.

He backs up then slams into you with a low growl from his chest. It's a lot to take, but god it feels good. He lifts your legs and puts his arms under your knees, wrapping his hands over to hold your thighs as he buries his length in you, grunting and sighing. His balls slap against your ass. His biceps flex, and It isn't long before you begin to moan and writhe, and squeeze his cock. 

"Good girl," he breathes. "Good, sweet pea."

He closes his eyes and fucks you through it. He breathes deep and slow, like he's trying not to come yet.  He slows way down, moans, then bottoms out and begins to pulse. He brings his hands to either side of your body and hovers over you while he thrusts slowly with each warm burst he releases. You milk his cock until his balls are empty, then your contractions fade. 

Joel hovers there, admiring your body. Then he slides out and sits down on the chair between your legs again. His armpits are warm and humid on your thighs.  He puts one hand on each breast and lowers his head to rest his cheek on your lower abdomen, tickling you with his beard. He wipes his mouth on your belly and a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth hits your skin.  He stares off at the front door of the trailer in a trance, gently cupping your breasts. He mumbles, "Taste so good, sweet pea." 

You reach for his hair and he doesn't stop you from fingering his curls. His eyelids droop, and after a few seconds, he closes his eyes.  You lightly massage his scalp again. 

He only allows himself a minute or two before he tenses and clears his throat. He lifts his head and slides his hands under your arms, helping you sit up straight. 

“I'll check the birds,” he says as he tucks his cock away.  He squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before he stands up to go outside. 

------------

------------

Thank you for reading and engaging 🖤 It means the world to me when you show him your love! whether this post is new or old. I also love when people throw a comment when they re-read. It's like adding coals to the fire that keeps me warm and writing lol.

You can find more raider!Joel oral on the raider master list under hypotheticals/imagines/HCs.

My tag lists are being phased out. . . please subscribe to notifications on @toxicfics.

-----

All Joel minus ones i'm pretty sure already saw it or are on toxic notifs or don't read joel anymore? . . : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou

[is-this-yuri]

hey yall, the situation has changed.

i've tentatively started a fundraiser to potentially work toward getting a van. i was going to wait until i got approved for SSDI and use the backpay to purchase a van, but after speaking with some lawyers, it's looking like that won't be happening in a reasonable time.

i really need to get out of this tiny car and into something bigger and more legal. i'd also like to sell my car for a chunk of cash, but i can't do that until i have something else to move into (and i certainly won't be able to do it when it inevitably gets towed if i keep driving it everywhere)

here's the link to the fundraiser

the goal is $10k. i know that's a lot, but there's no time limit on this. at $6-7k i can actually get the vehicle. maybe less if i'm lucky, and if i get any amount of donations i'll be searching the market constantly. the rest will be used to sort the registration and insurance, and of course to convert the inside. i've been researching this project for years, so rest assured i'll be using the money well.

i'm not sure what to expect with this but i will be eternally grateful if it works out for me. if it works out, i'll be posting all updates on my situation on the fundraiser and on patreon, and of course here on my blog.

i'm so sorry to be placing this burden on yall, but i really need all the help i can get, and i have no other ideas. having a van will be like having an apartment for me, and even without reliable income it'll be a massive upgrade so i can more readily work on getting reliable income one way or another. i can't even think about getting a regular job or staying consistent with my treatment until i have somewhere safer to live.

as for today i could use some cash to gas up my car and take care of some other needs, and as always i appreciate the donations i get almost daily that have been sustaining my life. if you'd rather support me in the short term, there's:

ko-fi

cashapp

or you can consider becoming a patron to allow me a small monthly income. thank you very much to my first patreon member! <3

so, there are many ways to support me now if you're willing and able! i appreciate every one of you <3 much gratitude to anyone who clicks any of the above links and for boosting and sharing! and thank you for tolerating me while i figure out this 'escaping homelessness' thing

0/10k

[averagewriter-inthedark]

When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

------------------

Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out  they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for. 

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes. 

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones. 

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat. 

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina. 

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers. 

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room. 

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her. 

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around  the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her. 

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?” 

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown  and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament. 

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place. 

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom. 

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed. 

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug. 

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes. 

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?” 

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer. 

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air. 

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could. 

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body. 

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold. 

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!” 

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic. 

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers. 

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face. 

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his. 

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!” 

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was. 

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them. 

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water. 

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.” 

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead. 

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod. 

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.” 

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.” 

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her. 

 “I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her.  Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?” 

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so. 

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls. 

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body. 

That she left the world at peace. 

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling. 

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous. 

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved. 

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck. 

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead. 

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!” 

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him. 

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs. 

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for. 

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle? 

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them. 

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back. 

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away. 

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch. 

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit. 

For what was once three became two. 

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

May 7th

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1. any fics of lwj groveling for wwx? thank u <3

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

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2. Hello, I am currently in a reading slump and I'm in the mood for a fix that will get me out of it. XD

A) Could you recommend some of your favourites?

B) And maybe if you know of any great alpha/alpha wangxian as well. That would be great, thank you! @broodyelii

2A)

Mod Favorites pt.1 (I couldn't decide which to choose so have the whole comp :') ~Mod L )

2B)

In This Reality (it could only be you) by Khashana (E, 5k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, fluff and porn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious WWX, Lan Disciple WWX, very light somnophilia, blink and you miss it really, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Alpha-Alpha Sex, Rut Sex, Knotting, no dubcon, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX)

Rutbrain by catsandmaps (E, 6k, WangXian, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Rutting, Mildly Dubious Consent, because of said rut, Unreliable Narrator, Alpha/Alpha, Intercrural Sex, Spanking, Anal Sex, Convienant bottle of lube, that unconvienantly disappears again sorry lube lovers, Muzzle, Knotting, copious amounts of cum (honorable mention), Misunderstandings, Getting Together)

Yours Shamelessly by kmichee (E, 35k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha/Alpha pairing, Alpha WWX, Alpha LWJ, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, Scenting, Discrimination, letter writing, Courtship, Swordfighting, smut then fluff then smut then fluff, Epistolary, Alpha/Alpha, Rough Sex)

Habits of Defiance by Feynite (Not Rated, 5k, WIP, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Introspection, Homophobia, (of a sort), Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence)

Body Language by Scourge Daughter (scourgedaughter) (E, 33k, Female WangXian, Modern, Office Romance, Hacking, hacker au, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha WWX, Alpha LWJ, They both have dicks, Arranged Marriage, arranged marriage is not between wangxian, there is no wangxian/others, WangXian Endgame, Happy Ending, madame yu’s a+ parenting, Boston, Suicide mention, Canonical Character Death, Sexual Harassment, Drunk! LWJ, ruts, Anal Sex, spitting, Biting, Switch wangxian, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch LWJ/WWX, Genderbend, Meet kinda ugly, Vibes of enemies to lovers but it’s wangxian so)

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3. For the itmf: does anyone have anything with the Jiang siblings realizing that wwx has a better relationship with the Wen siblings than he does with them? thank you!

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4. Itmf fics where wwx is more innocent (like the drama characterization) and the jianghu/cultivation world learn about the frame up while he's absent. Like during the 13yrs dead, or maybe he's in hiding, etc

foliage by antebunny (G, 7k, WangXian, JYL & JL, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, JGY is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, WWX is innocent of literally everything, for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, Hopeful Ending)

gather by antebunny (G, 10k, WangXian, JL & WWX, WWX & JC, LXC & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, BAMF WWX, JL and his many many uncles, Found Family, Fluff, JYL Lives, they're soft your honor, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending)

Loneliness Knows My Name by Jaywalker_Holmes, Treef (T, 208k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, mutual idiots)

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5. Hi, the other day I read a fic in which wwx was Olivia Rodrigo (as in he was a singer and her songs where his songs, idk if I'm explaining myself), and I was wondering if anyone has something like that except wwx is Mitski 😭

Thank you!!!

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6. Are there any good fics, that stay true to canon characteristics, where Jiang Fengmian lives? Specifically ones where the core transfer still happens?

I have this plot in my head that idk when I'll write it cause life right now is chaotic. The story would diverge at the lotus pier attack. JFM would have gotten stabbed trying to save YZY and passed out. Everyone presumes he's dead and YZY dies like canon. He wakes up around the same time WWX & JC comes back but stays still. When everyone leaves the area, he rolls himself into the water and swims to shore. Some how his body isn't noticed to be missing. JC gets captured like canon and WWX collects him with the help of WN. WWX asks WN to collect JC's parents bodies, WN comes back and said he was only able to save YZY body. They presume the JF body was dropped in the lake/burned. JF makes it to JYL and is reunited with JC later. (How would the plot diverge with JF leading lotus pier, being an active general in the war who is senior to everyone else, understanding the benefits of backing WWX, & who may be grateful for WN & WQ help retrieving his wife's body and securing his heirs life).

If anyone wants to write this, please do!! I would love if it stayed true to canon characteristics. @myblurryreality

Yearning for Miles by Murahi (M, 378k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Mutual Pining, seeing the future) not sure if this is similar to what you want but jfm and madam yu both live and (spoiler) wwx gives his core to madam yu

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7. any fics of wei ying marrying into the lan sect? thankss <3

🧡 a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke ( M, 180k, WangXian, Arranged marriage, Canon Divergence, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Canon typical violence)

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 803k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

the river and the sea by sasamelons (T, 7k, WangXian, Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Mutual Pining)

a light hidden and singing by occultings (microcomets) (E, 48k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Canon Era, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Slow Burn, brief family abuse, mentions of wangxian’s canonical kinks, Misunderstandings, Blood and Injury, Rimming, Outdoor Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, First Time, Miscommunication, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending)

forever is home (with you) by moonsteps (T, 23k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Intimacy, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, the inherent romance of the forehead ribbon)

🔒 In Agreement by kuro (T, 9k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Domestic Fluff, Developing Relationship)

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8. Itmf fics where wwx essentially becomes a god or protector spirit in some way

the past drifts away with the waves by thelastdboy (E, 58k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, major characger undeath, YZY being an asshole, implied/referenced child abuse, minor character death, major character injury, amputation, loss of limbs, transformation, merpeople, fierce corpse WWX, kind of, merperson WWX, resentful creature WWX, undead WWX, riverspirit WWX, it gets worse before it gets better, heavy angst w happy ending, no sunshot, hurt/comfort, politics, not cultivation world friendly, slow burn, getting together, revenge, demonic cultivation, WWX pov, dark WWX, monsterfucker LWJ, wen remnants live, sect leader WQ) WWX becomes a river spirit in this one. idk if that counts

🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WN & WQ, WN & WQ & MXY, WWX & WN & WQ, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Eventual WangXian, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn't kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ)

You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, wangxian, WIP, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, bad dog names, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels)

🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence)

Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (E, 107k, WangXian, LXC/JGY, MXY & WWX, JL & WWX, WWX & JC, JL & LJY, JL & LSZ, Family Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Mutual Pining, Parental WWX, BAMF WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Ghost Sex)

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9. hi!!! if this has been asked before feel free to point me towards the relevant post, but for your next "in the mood for" post, could you recommend some fics where wwx dies in the battle at nightless city instead of jiang yanli? any canon goes! @tiesanjiaoshenanigans

💖 Shattered Dreams by pupeez4eva (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Time Travel, Angst, lots and lots of angst, Character death, but it's WWX so he is coming back, WWX time travels back to the Nightless City And doesn't let JYL take the blow for him, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, And then just lots of fluff and WangXian and Yunmeng sib feels to make up for all the angst) link in #16

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10. ITMF angsty wx gf where Jiangs (all of 'em) are present. But not for bashing ok. I just want a full wx family. Thankyou

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11. Are there any fics where wwx finally snaps the question " what do you want from me?!?! What do you want me to even do?!? " to Jiang Cheng? Not in jiang Cheng bashing way ok? Thankyou

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12. Itmf a fic where canon diverges around where qiongqi path happens in the timeline, but not specifically the ambush changing. Maybe something happens before or after. Ig more like Jin ling's celebration. Does wwx get attacked at the party? Does the party go well to lure him into a false sense of security as part of a long con to get to him later? Things like that. Maybe Jin zixun doesn't get cursed, but wwx is blamed for nmj poisoning instead? Etc.

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) A LWJ-centric timeloop fic set around the Qiongqi Path ambush that explores some different outcomes during the loops

Obedient and Bellicoseby thunderwear (T, 20k, Wangxian, Ella Enchanted AU, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, cursed LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good brother LXC, LQR loves his nephews you cant change my mind, LWJ crying, Protective LXC, Pining, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Brief Depictions of Violence, meaning at least one of the people you really want to get stabbed does in fact get stabbed)

💖 A Crying Shame by thunderwear (G, 16k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, burial mounds settlement days, getting together, pining, domestic fluff, love confessions, first kiss, sharing a bed, marriage proposal)

My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 39k, WangXian, XuanLi, WIP, Canon Divergence, Out of Character, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, JYL lives, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds, WN and JC Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry)

Birthday Party by waffles_4_breakfast (E, 100k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Slow Burn, Poison, Torture, Requited Unrequited Love, First Time, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Come as Lube, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Spit As Lube, Rimming, Consensual Non-Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

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13. In the mood for all ur fav fics that update rarely, but when they do u get super excited.

see you yesterday by glyphic (M, 138k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Ghost Hunters, Time Loop, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn)

Ghost of Mine by SasukiMimochi (E, 139k, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, wangxian, Golden Core Reveal, Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Demonic Cultivation, YLLZ WWX, Canon Temporary Character Death, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Past JYL/JZX, WIP)

Kingfisher Feathers by anonymous (E, 165k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty AU, Emperor LWJ, Concubine WWX, A/B/O, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Angst with a happy ending)

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14. Hello! For itmf,

So I recently read this fic by covalentbonds named Linearly above. It's a fic exploring canon story with married Wangxian but from an older generation then they originally are from. Do you know any similar fics?

Or Any fic with older generation WWX and LWJ?

Thank you!!!

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15. Hi! Itmf dragonji hoarding wwx as his treasure. Thx so much!

💖🔒 Hoards and treasures by  apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the   best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and   not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect   happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)

A Baby Dragon’s Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 102k, wangxian, Fantasy, But still in the Cultivation World, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Younger LWJ, Older WWX, Fluff, Humor, Eventual mpreg, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Boy A-Yuan)

🔒 Turnabout by apathyinreverie (T, 7k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX; LSZ & LWJ, WIP, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Tiger cub A-Yuan, Mischievous WWX, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Domestic WangXian, LXC does his best, LQR wishes his nephews had better taste in men, Fluff, Romance, Mpreg mentioned, courting, creature shifts)

a siren's tail by sweetlolixo (M, 3k, WangXian, Dark Fantasy, Dragon LWJ, Siren WWX, Dark LWJ, Dark LSZ, Dragon LSZ, lying by omission, Manipulation, mpreg mention, Royalty, Happy Ending)

These Mortal Treasures by ChilianXianzi (T, 9k, WangXian, Fantasy, Canon Divergence, Dragon LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Possessive LWJ, Domestic Fluff, implied eggpreg, Dragonji’s hoard is 1 (one) weiying, The Cultivation World’s canonical fuckery, eggyuan!, Gift Giving)

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16. Can the mods and the readers please give me the saddest wangxian fics they've ever read? The sadder, the longer, the better. No bad ending though please.

Ps: please no Jiangs bashing.

💖 where the shore meets the sea by pale_and_tragic (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern, Anxiety, Agoraphobia, Panic Attacks, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, LWJ Needs a Hug, Bunnies, With Ridiculous Names) don't know if they're the saddest there are but here's a couple that made me cry so... ~Mod L

💖 symmetry by bleuett (M, 44k, WangXian, Space, Science Fiction, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Holding Hands, Blow Jobs, Hand Feeding, Cultivation in Space, Yearning, Reunions, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Grief/Mourning, Unconventional Time Travel, Burial Mounds)

💖🔒 I will find you by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern, Angst, A LOT of Angst, with a bit comfort at the end, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Happy Ending)

💖 Shattered Dreams by pupeez4eva (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Time Travel, Angst, lots and lots of angst, Character death, but it's WWX so he is coming back, WWX time travels back to the Nightless City And doesn't let JYL take the blow for him, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, And then just lots of fluff and WangXian and Yunmeng sib feels to make up for all the angst)

💖 I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Curses, Intimacy, Yearning, Happy Ending, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Immortality, Fluff, Angst)

💖 the best good thing by almostsophie1 (T, 12k, WangXian, Space, Post-Apocalypse, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hurt/Comfort)

💖🔒 you are safe / loved / worthy / enough by everythingispoetry (T, 150k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Social Media, Mental Health Issues, Healing, self-care, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, the mortifying ordeal of self-acceptance, Falling In Love, Depression, Slow Burn)

💖 Take Root, Come Home by piecrust (G, 3k, WangXian)

🧡 like speaking to my heart by SnowshadowAO3 (T, 613k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Daemons, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Some people live!, additional warnings in specific chapters, if you don't know what daemons are that's ok because I explain it in the author's note, also by slow burn I VERY much mean slow burn) i don't usually read extremely sad fics but this one had some sad scenes in it iirc - mod c

🧡 Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, wangxian, heavy angst, fluff, eventual happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, misunderstandings, self-harm, self-hatred, family fluff, mental breakdown, cannibalism, reincarnation, WIP 31/33)

🧡 Discarded by teawater (E, 178k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dying Lan children, Hurt/Comfort, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Reveal, Case Fic, Depression, Family Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, and it's not always dark, POV Multiple, BAMF WWX, dubious morals in the Lan sect Feels, Pining, Grief, Fix-It, BAMF LWJ) i haven't actually caught up yet but the beginning was pretty sad - Mod C

🧡 (Un)Hidden truth by Sarah_R (M, 122k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide attempt, Time Travel, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Self-Harm)

🔒 Salt to the Sea by Starmins (M, 31k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, modern, grief/mourning, roadtrips, canonical character death, love & loss)

134340 by silverclaw (M, 18k, WangXian, Space, Space Opera, Heavy Angst, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Closure, Parallel Universes, Coco the robot, LWJ accidentally adopting creatures as he goes, LWJ also has a nose ring, The following are SPOILER tags, there are two lwjs and one of them dies, wwx mourning lwj, Hopeful Ending, in terms of closure and healing, parallel!lwj and wwx form a bond, mentions of captivity, dystopian themes)

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17. Hi! I am looking for red thread of fate soulmate aus. Especially ones where you trace the thread back to your soulmate. Preferably canon era, but honestly I am fine with any genre au. Thank you so much!

the heartlines on our hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 47k, wangxian, Soulmates AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, First Time, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death)

lost my fear of falling by thefireplanet (E, 30k, WangXian, HuaLian, Bodyswap, Wei "My Intrusive Thoughts Are Totally Not Winning" Wuxian, Hua "My Husband Said I Had to Help You" Cheng, YLLZ WWX, WWX-centric, WangXian-centric, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Canon-Typical Wangxian Sex Things, One (1) Obscure War Movie Reference, mawage, Mawage is what brings us togeder tooday)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[starlazergazer]

I Will Come Back for You

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: Anakin and the reader were friends since they were little, both slaves, when Anakin gives her a necklace to remember him by when he leaves for the jedi with the promise that he will free her one day. Years later Ani realizes he is in love with the reader and decided to rescue her. Only to find out that a prince has freed you and taken you with him so Anakin mounts a rescue plan to free you from the prince’s grasp.

Warnings: Some swearing, some jealousy

Word count: 7K

A/N: As always I may have played with the original request a bit so if @sweetcheesecakesblog​ has any issue with the story let me know! But I had a lot of fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it!

“Alright helmet”

“Check” 8 year old Anakin called back out in a bored tone, more than used to your prefight checklist you made him go through every time.

“Seatbelt?”

“Check”

“Flux density compressor”

“You made that one up” he laughed with a shake of his head, flipping switches on the dash to bring the speeder alive.

“Did I or do I just know more about mechanics than you?” You taunted with a smile on your face, bringing one, as it always did, to Anakin’s as well.

“That’s funny. You’re funny”

“So do I get to come along for this one?” You asked him sweetly, wide puppy dog eyes staring up at him from the ground beside the speeder. He made a point to avoid connecting with them.

“Absolutely not”

“Ani come on” you whined with a roll of your eyes, “you never let me come”

“I’m going for a record Y/N” He shrugged dismissively, busying himself with the controls that honestly no longer needed his attention.

“So?”

“So it’s dangerous”

“How come you’re going then?” you demanded with a frown

“Because-because-“ And he didn’t even know what words he was reaching for, knowing he didn’t want you coming along on a dangerous run but not fully understanding why. Instead he said the first thing that came to mind “because I’m a boy”

“What and girls can’t do anything dangerous” you laughed back at him with a raised brow.

“Yup” he answered simply, resting his arms on the edge of the speeder as he looked down at you “I think it’s a law”

“Now who’s making things up” you grumbled

“Alright you’re right that’s not a law” he ceded with a smirk “it actually says girls named Y/N can’t do anything dangerous”

You pouted back up at him, crossing your arms defensively over your chest prompting him to sigh. “Come on Y/N I need someone to time me”

“C3-PO could time you” you protested

“C3-PO’s not done” he countered

“Exactly my point!” You exclaimed in exasperation “you’re giving me a job so simple an unfinished protocol droid could do it”

And now it was Anakin’s turn to pull out the puppy dog eyes “Y/N please”

And just like he knew you would you caved, sighing as you sank into yourself on the spot, taking a second to note that his helmet wasn’t even on before holding up the stopwatch so he could see, pointedly hitting the button to start the timer.

“Wait wait I’m not ready” Anakin called out in a panic, throwing on his helmet and buckling himself in.

“4…5…6” you counted with a smirk on your face, watching as Anakin rushed through the last of his preparations before tearing off.

Hugging each corner more than he realistically should have Anakin made the loop in what felt like record time, slamming on the breaks to bring the speeder to a stop before yelling out to you excitedly “what was my time?”

He couldn’t hear your response over the drum of the engine so he shut it down, pulling off his helmet before repeating himself “Y/N what-“ and the sight before him made the words die in his throat.

The spot you had just been standing in was empty, nothing but a stopwatch buried in the sand in your spot.

“Y/N?” he called out in confusion, hopping down from the speeder and desperately looking around. You had been in a wide, empty area no where to go or hide in the amount of time he had been gone, it didn’t make sense.

He knelt down to pick up the stopwatch before a glint in the sand caught his eye, a familiar gold chain just to the left of the stopwatch.

But that was impossible, he hadn’t given you that necklace yet, wouldn’t for another year at least when he leaves with Qui-Gon, a way for you to remember him until he comes back for you.

“Ani?”

The voice caught him off guard, it was your voice but different, older? He spun around on the spot to see you standing there, but it wasn’t the you he knew at 8 years old, it was a you that was the same age as him now. He barely even registered that he wasn’t that 8 year old kid anymore either.

“Y/N?” he asked hesitantly, gripping the necklace pendant in his fist as he surveyed you “what’s going on?”

And at this you laughed bitterly only furthering his confusion “I was going to ask you the same question”

“What?”

“It’s been years Anakin” you words came quickly and sharply, anger dripping from each one “you said you were going to come back. Going to come get me out of here”

“I am…I-I I will I just can’t-“ his words tumbled out of him as he struggled to speak, his mind struggling to keep up with what was happening.

“Oh I’m sorry have you been busy?” you sneered at him, pushing him back “too busy learning to be a jedi, making friends, saving the galaxy, that must have been so hard for you”

“Y/N I’m sorry-”

“Oh good” you laughed, taking a step back from him “I’ve been a slave stuck on Tatooine with no friends, no family, working under Watto for years but it’s nice to know that you’re sorry, that sure helps”

“Y/N I meant what I said” he pleaded with you “I’m going to come free you”

A humorless laugh escaped you, all anger dropping from you almost instantly as your whole posture sagged “yeah well, you’re too late”

His eyebrows scrunched together, taking a hesitant step towards you “what do you mean-“ the rest of the sentence hung in the air as a man came into his field of vision.

He was someone Anakin had never seen before but a very well-dressed man, a man that was very pointedly only looking at you, looking at you with an expression that immediately had Anakin on guard.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” the man spoke softly, reaching out to drag a single finger up your arm, the touch causing your entire body to tense up, Anakin’s fist clenching down on the necklace pendant in response before he even fully understood what was happening.

“Who are-“

The man cut him off, reaching up to put a single finger under your chin, pulling your gaze up to his “she was wasted on a person like Watto, a planet like Tatooine” You’re entire body seemed to shake on the spot.

“Look I don’t know what is going on here but if you don’t-“ Anakin’s threat was cut short as he tried to take a step forward only to find his feet buried in the sand below completely unable to move.

The man laughed softly, “With a face like this” he suddenly grabbed your chin, fingers squishing harshly into your cheeks as he turned your head to face him, a mischievous glint in the stranger’s eyes as he looked back at Anakin “think of the possibilities”

“You lay one hand on her and I will end you” his voice had dropped dangerously low, fist clenched so tightly around the pendant it dug harshly into his skin.

“Oh” the man laughed again, dropping your face to pull you by your arm, crashing your body into him, his arms snaking their way around your waist as your eyes pleaded with Anakin to do something “I wouldn’t dream of it”

His hand went instinctively for his lightsaber only to find the spot where it was usually clipped to his belt empty, his hand fumbling uselessly around in his robes for a bit as the stranger watched in amusement.

“If you’re quite done with these empty threats Y/N and I have some place to be” he smirked, pulling you along by your elbow.

“Y/N no please” he called out desperately, weight shifting forward on his feet though they still refused to move.

You didn’t say anything as you were pulled away, didn’t fight back, didn’t do anything but look back at Anakin sadly, begging him wordlessly to do something, to save you.

“No…stop…Y/N” he called out but his voice was starting to die within him, knowing he couldn’t do anything while his feet refused to move, forced to just stand there as he watched you get pulled away from him.

He reached out with his hand towards you as far as he could, putting all his weight into his toes trying desperately to do anything to move. When suddenly it was as if they became unstuck from the ground, his whole body immediately pitching forwards, his face flying directly to the ground.

His hands came up instinctively to protect himself as he hit the ground but he didn’t ever connect with it really, instead he fell through it, reality shifting instantly so he was falling through the ceiling of his room, body slamming back down on the bed violently prompting him to bolt up inn an instant, breaths heavy and erratic as he took in his surroundings.

It was his room at the temple, his empty room, it was just a dream, at least that was what he told himself. But this felt different somehow than the dreams he had of you before. You had been his age in this one, that was what struck him, before you had always been at most the nine years old he had last seen you at on Tatooine but not in this one, why not in this one.

Something felt wrong, he could feel it. Not in the force per say but in his gut, you were in trouble he just knew it.

As he felt his heart rate start to go down, his breathing finally slowing back down to a normal rate, he brought his hand up to his face, looking down into his palm, an indent of a familiar necklace pendant etched into the skin staring back up at him.

-

You had never been one for court. The threats and promises Prince Willard doled out without a second thought as if he were a god, capable of controlling everything and everyone beneath him. As if he somehow deserved the loyalty of these people due to a position he was born into, as if he deserved to posses the fist that he too often used to crush innocent people.

It was why you barely paid attention to the next person that strolled into the throne room that day.

He had fluffy hair that fell nearly to his shoulders, piercing blue eyes that looked almost familiar if you stared into them for long enough but of course you didn’t. You never liked to note the hope in people’s eyes as they asked for favors before the prince snuffed it out.

It was the man’s voice that caught your attention. A voice that haunted your dreams, a voice that had  promised you he would come back for you, the voice of a kid you had long since given up hope of ever seeing again.

“Your majesty” the man said, dipping low into a bow as you sat up straighter, inching ever so slightly closer to the edge of your seat, eager to see the man’s face as he came back up only to see his gaze already on you, the edges of his lips turned up into a small smile “My name is Anakin Skywalker”

And you felt your whole world freeze, because it was him, that boy, the one you had grown so close to as a child, the one you had waited years for on an empty promise made when he was nine, the one now much older than when you had last seen him, bowing before you on the floor.

You felt a relief wash over you instantly, you’d spent all this time worrying for the worst: if he was dead, if he had forgotten about you, if he had never cared in the first place.

But now standing before you, eyes never breaking from your own as he smiled you could see that none of that was true, that he had kept his promise after all, that not so little anymore Ani had finally come back for you.

If only he hadn’t come too late.

“What can I do for you Mr.Skywalker” Prince Willard’s voice filled the silence you hadn’t realized you had let fall, not missing the way the Prince’s eyes flicked back and forth between you and Anakin suspiciously, a tightness in his jaw you never liked to see make an appearance.

“I come for the princess” Anakin’s gaze never left yours, but you tried to force yourself to ignore it, to slump back down into your chair, to force your expression into one of indifference.

A humorless laugh filled the throne room, echoing off the expansive stone walls as the prince looked between you and Anakin again “you come for my princess?”

“The republic does not condone keeping slaves Prince Willard” Anakin continued to threaten no matter how much you begged him behind your eyes to shut up “so I suggest you release Y/N to me and we can set this whole matter behind us”

“You must be mistaken” you hated how calm his voice was as he spoke, remaining the same even tone even as Anakin’s started to spike in anger “Y/N is not a slave here, she is as you said a princess”

“I happen to know for a fact that you purchased her servitude from Watto just two years ago” Anakin continued, stalking dangerously close to the throne as his voice dropped down an octave “thereby making her your slave”

“I freed princess Y/L/N from Watto two years ago” you could hear the smugness in the prince’s voice as he spoke, more than happy to put Anakin in his place “she is here of her on accord. Isn’t that right sweetheart”

You felt your heart seize in your chest at the nickname, watching as Anakin’s eyes broke back to yours wide with hope, begging you to say otherwise, to let him take you from here.

You practically choked on your next words “that’s correct”

You forced your gaze back to the prince’s before you could watch Anakin’s chest fall, watch the hope flicker from his eyes. It would make the first time in this room you had caused that instead of the prince.

“Nevertheless-“ Anakin tried to continue though his voice had lost most of its bravado in the process.

You watched as the prince’s hand started to snake further down the armrest of his chair, fingers coming dangerously close to the button you knew was at the end of it that would call in the guards and did the only thing you could think to do to stop it.

You leaned over and grabbed the prince’s hand, calmly lacing your fingers through his and giving it a soft squeeze.

You watched both the men freeze at the touch, Anakin’s eyes snapping immediately to your interlaced fingers on the prince’s thrown.

The prince’s eyes, however, immediately snapped to you and you could see the confusion in them. Afterall when was the last time you had shown him such affection, surely not since your first few weeks in the castle, not since you learned exactly what type of man he was.

But you forced a smile to your face, watching in some small satisfaction as a similar one grew on his, his other hand coming over to rest atop your own.

“I suggest you leave Mr.Skywalker” and there was some annoyance in his voice as the Prince said it. But annoyance was good, annoyance you could deal with, as long as it meant the anger had been washed away.

Anakin shook his head in response, taring his gaze away from your clasped hands and notably not stopping to rest on yours for even a second “not without the princess”

You had never wanted to throttle the Skywalker boy more in your life.

You could practically see the anger rising within the prince as Anakin continued to demand your freedom, his fist coming off of your hands to bang on his armrest as his voice for the first time rose enough that you were sure the guards were going to be alerted “now you listen here-“

You cut off the prince quickly with a simple “darling”, reaching out to his chin to softly pull his gaze to yours. The anger was wiped from his face in an instant, as if it had never been there in the first place and you could see him practically hanging off your every word. Afterall it was a nickname you only pulled out in the most dire of circumstances.

And though you knew it was a dirty trick to play, and that Anakin was standing right before the two of you, more than able to see everything you were about to do, you leaned forward a bit giving the prince a good view down your neckline, watching the way his brain lagged as his gaze was instinctively drawn to it.

“Do you think we could wrap this up I’m feeling rather tired” you asked sweetly, the prince’s gaze finally snapping up to your eyes.

“Of course sweetheart” he all but whispered, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a small kiss to the back of it, you doing your best not to flinch before he turned back to Anakin.

You could see Anakin’s clenched jaw even from your chair above him, not missing the daggers he glared in the prince’s direction as he waited for him to speak, his hands clutched tightly into fists at his side.

“I will not ask again Mr.Skywalker” the prince acted as if he couldn’t see the anger dripping off of Anakin, his eyes only straying from you for brief moments to address him “leave now or I will have you thrown out”

At this Anakin’s eyes broke to yours, this time not begging you to say something but rather daring you to, giving the stare but a moment’s pause before he bowed again, never taking his eyes off you as he spoke “as you wish” and you knew those words weren’t directed at the prince.

Nevertheless Anakin strolled out of the throne room slowly and you tried your best not to watch him go, not to wish he would come back and take you with him despite everything, not to want him to stay.

“come let’s get you to bed” the prince’s words broke you from your trance as he helped you from your chair, a soft hand placed on the small of your back as he led you down the hallway.

“What’s brought all this on my sweet” he asked innocently though you could detect the undercurrent of suspicion in his words, forcing your feet to stop carrying you forward, turning more fully to the prince as you spoke.

“Just…hearing someone lie like that…about knowing me in order to get close to me…it scared me honestly” you forced your voice to be as small and helpless as possible, exactly the way he seemed to prefer his princesses.

And you watched his face light up in response, a small chuckle escaping his lips before he pulled you softly into a hug, your head crashing lightly into his chest as he rubbed a hand up and down your back “there is no need to worry. I will always protect you”

And though you gagged on the inside, and had to fight the urge to push him away from you, you forced yourself to sink further into the hug, mumbling softly against the linen of his shirt “I know you will”

-

You woke in the middle of the night to a soft tapping on your window, familiar blue eyes connecting with yours from the balcony outside.

Swearing softly under your breath you slipped out from beneath the convers, careful not the wake the prince sleeping right next to you as you did so.

Only once the crisp night air hit you did it dawn on you that you hadn’t bothered to throw anything on over the simple slip you slept in with the prince, something that clearly didn’t escape Anakin’s notice either.

“Did you-“ he let the question hang in the air, his eyes flitting back to the prince still asleep in your bed inside.

“I’m fine” you answered simply, not caring that that was not the question he had asked in the first place “Ani what are you doing here”

You hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip out, the familiarity of being in his presence just taking over but you could see the way his mouth quirked up at the sound of it, his attention drawing completely back to you as you said it “I could ask you the same question”

“Yeah well” you crossed your arms protectively over your chest, gaze breaking to anything other than Anakin’s eyes as you spoke “only one of us is here willingly”

You watched the smile on Anakin’s face grow into a grin as you admitted it “I knew it”

“I’m so glad my enslavement amuses you” you grumbled back in response.

“Hey it means I can do something about it” Anakin responded just making you shake your head more, had he learned nothing from this morning.

“You cannot-“ and you cut yourself off, eyes darting back briefly to your bedroom to check on the prince’s sleeping form before you changed tactics, only focused on ending this conversation as soon as possible “Anakin you need to leave”

“What?” he asked in disbelief, blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your own “I can’t leave. Not without you”

“Ani I-“ you sighed, eyes breaking to the sides of the castle “look at least meet me in the guest bedroom okay, its just that balcony over there” you pointed to the balcony a few rooms down from your own “we can’t have this conversation here”

He looked down at you skeptically, eyes breaking back into your bedroom before reluctantly nodding.

You sighed back in relief, carefully slipping back into your bedroom and out into the hallway though not without grabbing a robe to wrap yourself in on the way.

And you had meant to go into the room telling Anakin off, demanding he leave before he causes even more trouble. But then you saw him standing there in the room, the perfect reflection of the little kid you had known on Tatooine, and you couldn’t help yourself.

You bound up to Anakin quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist pulling you into a deep hug. You felt him sigh into it, pulling you tightly against him and you knew he needed this as badly as you did.

“You grew up” you whispered into his ear, feeling your whole body shake as he laughed in response, reluctantly letting you go.

“So did you”

And you relished the smile on his face as he said it, the familiar air that had encapsulated you in that moment, as if the years that had passed without him didn’t exist, as if he had been there with you the whole time.

His eyebrows suddenly quirked and you watched his hand come up to your neck, fingers grazing the skin around it as he pulled on the simple golden chain he had given you ages ago.

“You still wear it” the words came out in disbelief, a soft chuckle along with them.

“A good friend gave it to me” you responded with a smile “told me it was so that I wouldn’t forget him, or his promise”

“And did you?” he asked you, eyes breaking from the necklace back to you hopefully.

“Not for a second” you answered honestly.

His next words came quick and with the same veracity as that promise he had made you long ago “neither did I”

Another brief silence passed between the two of you before Anakin finally broke it, dropping the necklace, allowing its charm to thud softly against your chest “why did you agree to go with him Y/N? I promised I would come get you”

“How long was I supposed to wait Ani?” you asked him softly “I’d already waited so many years, I had no way of knowing if you were even alive, so when the chance to finally get out from under Watto came along. I took it”

“And the prince?” he asked in response “he treats you well? You’re happy here?”

“He treats me well” you assured him, taking one of his hands in yours and giving it a soft squeeze, pointedly ignoring his latter question.

“come back with me” he pleaded, taking your other hand in his.

“I can’t” you shook your head in response.

“Why not?”

You sighed softly at the question “Because I am single handedly keeping at bay three different wars by staying his hand” your answer slipped out before you could stop it “because the people here deserve better than to live on a war torn planet which is what this place will be reduced to if the prince is left to rule alone”

“the jedi order can-“

“The order can do what?” you cut him off quickly “there is a treaty in place and the prince has so far done nothing wrong. The order can’t step in until it is too late and you know it”

And again there was a moment of silence as Anakin digested your words, tried to think of a way to counter. “Please don’t make me leave without you.” He took a deep breath, eyes bouncing desperately back and forth between your own “I already did that once and I can’t bear to do it again”

And you couldn’t help but smile sadly at that, a hand coming instinctively up to cup his cheek, rubbing soft circles into the skin “Ani I can’t”

Anakin opened his mouth to respond but instead the prince’s voice came out startling the two of you “You know I knew you were lying when you said you didn’t know him” You and Anakin jumped back from each other hastily. The prince continuing on softly as if he hadn’t noticed “I never thought I asked you for too much. I gave you everything you could ever want: a castle to explore, a planet to rule over, subjects to wait on you hand and foot and all I ever wanted in return was for you to love me. Instead I find out you’re undermining my rule behind my back.”

Anakin grabbed your arm protectively, pulling you closer to him as he spoke “you don’t get to buy someone’s love like that. You earn it and if Y/N doesn’t want to go back with you than she won’t”

The prince in turn completely ignored Anakin’s words, his eyes only focusing on you “Now Y/N you know I don’t like to play this card but I do own you” he held a hand out to you, waiting for you to take it, already expecting that you would “now be a good girl and come back to me”

And he was right, it was as if your hand was being pulled by strings, your arm already lifting before Anakin was pulling you back behind him, defensively standing between you and the prince “As I already said slavery is illegal under the republic”

“As the leading supplier of weapons to the republic I’m willing to bet they will look the other way just this one time” he said it all with a smile, already knowing he had won, that you were bound to come back to him just as you always did.

“They may be but I am not” Anakin dropped into a defensive stand before you, hands making for his lightsaber strapped to his hip and illuminating it before him, casting an eerie blue glow in the room.

“I warn you this is not a battle you can win Skywalker” the prince threatened, giving Anakin a moment to stand down before calling out “guards”

In a second the room was swarming with guards, every available space filled with a new one, each with their blasters pointed squarely at Anakin.

And you could see from his stance that there was still no backing down, that he planned to go down fighting if that was what the situation called for.

The prince, however, kept his eyes on you, a smirk on his face as he held a hand out to you still, patiently waiting for you to take it.

“Ani stop” you all but whispered, setting a soft hand on his back as you made your way around him.

“Y/N, no” he tried weakly to stop you though you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He knew this was a fight he couldn’t win.

You ignored him as you stepped around him, reaching out to take the princes hand, not missing the way his grip was much stronger than necessary once you had grabbed it. “that’s a good princess” he cooed happily, smiling back at the daggers Anakin was glaring into him “now you and I are going to have a very important discussion but first” he turned his attention back to the guards, hand never breaking from your wrist “show the jedi out and make sure he doesn’t come back this time, I don’t need the entire order on my ass claiming I kidnapped one of their knights”

For a moment there was just silence, Anakin glaring back at the prince, no doubt imagining the thousand of ways he could kill him right now before he finally deactivated his lightsaber, turning his attention back to you just over the princes shoulders “I’m coming back for you” he promised, putting as much force into the words as possible before his gaze snapped back to the prince “and I’m not taking no for an answer”

-

It had been a while since you had been thrown in the dungeon, something that happened fairly rarely though still often enough that you had your own room.

Some furniture had been added, a more comfortable bed and all but there was still no mistaking it for what it was, a prison cell.

Anakin had said he would come back for you, the exact promise he made you as a nine year old on Tatooine, and sure he had fulfilled the promise the first time but that how many years? Could you really afford to wait that long again?

But Anakin didn’t owe you anything, you weren’t his responsibility, and further it made no sense for the jedi to sanction a rescue mission like that. Overthrowing the monarchy of the planet that supplied most of the republics weapons over one girl? That didn’t make sense.

But his eyes when he had promised you again, the tone in his voice, the conviction with which he said it, you believed him, you really did.

But logic won out, it always did, you just needed to sit here and wait, wait for the prince to forgive you, wait for him to decide he would rather have his arm candy at the next ball than be mad at you. Put your head down and play your part that was how you had gotten this far in this life and it was how you were prepared to continue.

So you waited, waited for an all too familiar apology, the same excuse of how he didn’t like treating you like this, or even worse that this hurt him to see you like this more than it hurt you.

Instead on the fourth day you were awakened by an explosion loud enough to shake the castle walls.

You were on your feet in an instant, pressing your ear desperately to the door trying to pick up any noise at all that would clue you into what was happening but the door was too thick, you couldn’t make out anything.

Swearing under your breath you gave up on that tactic, moving instead to pacing the room before deciding better of it, grabbing the only thing you could think to make a weapon (a pillow) and pressing your back to the wall right next to the door.

Forcing deep, even breaths you waited, only having to stand there for a few minutes before the door finally slid open, you waiting a single moment before swinging the pillow towards the person walking into the room.

Only a few steps in the person effortlessly turned to you and held a hand up to block, you only realizing with relief that it was Anakin after you had nailed him in the forearm.

“A pillow? Really?”

“I don’t exactly have options for weapons in here” you sighed, throwing the pillow back onto your bed.

“Literally anything would have been better” he chuckled “you could’ve just punched me”

“Then you could’ve grabbed my wrist and I’d have been restrained”

“Oh glad to know there was at least some thought put into this plan” he shook his head in amusement “now come on you’re ruining my knight in shining armor moment”

With a grin you took his hand, letting him lead you down the hallway to the stairs that would take you to the main floor, the sound of gunfire growing with each step.

“The order sanctioned a hostile takeover of the castle?” you asked him in disbelief.

“Its just the 501st battalion up there” he whispered back to you as he drew his lightsaber, pointedly not answering your question.

“And the jedi council and the senate gave you permission to use them to come here right?” you responded with a raised brow.

“When we get up there stay low and stay behind me we’re going to be moving quickly” Again Anakin ignored your question as he started to move up the stairs.

You reached out to grab his arm, forcing him to stop and look at you, you raising your eyebrows waiting for your answer.

He sighed as he looked down at you before shaking his head softly “I made a promise. And I already wasted too much time before fulfilling the first one”

“Ani but all this” you sighed back at him, gesturing to the sounds of battle above “people could get hurt, you’re going to be in so much trouble-“

“I told you” he cut you off with a small smile “I’m not leaving this planet without you”

And to your own surprise you had no response to that, a moment of silence hanging in the air before Anakin turned back to the stairs and whispered “now stay low and behind me we’re making a break for the ship okay?”

“Okay”

-

You can’t remember the last time you were able to just sit in the grass and watch the clouds. Honestly you weren’t sure you had ever been able to do so. There was always work to do, customers to overcharge, kingdoms to run. It was nice to just sit and do nothing for a change.

You heard footsteps approaching from behind you but didn’t bother to turn around and look, you knew who it was.

Anakin sat down wordlessly next to you, his shoulder brushing yours lightly as he leaned back on his hands, his gaze following yours up to the sky.

“How much trouble did you get into for an unsanctioned rescue mission like that” you asked him with a raised brow, laughing softly as you watched his gaze pointedly avoid yours.

“Why don’t we just say that doesn’t matter now” he proposed with a soft smile “you’re here, you’re free, that’s what matters”

“So a lot. I tried to warn you” you chuckled with a soft shake of your head.

“I free you from being a slave, from a literal dungeon and you’re still going to do an ‘I told you so’ moment” He laughed finally looking down at you.

“I mean I did” you shrugged with a grin, moving to sit up straighter, your smile slowly dropping from your face as you picked at the grass beneath your legs, letting you gaze stay down as you prepared for your next words “you know, waiting all those years on Tatooine, I was starting to think you had forgotten me”

“There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you” Anakin’s answer came immediately, his tone soft but serious.

“Yeah?” You chuckled lightheartedly, eyes coming up to see that he was already looking down at you “nice to know I had such an impact on your childhood”

At this Anakin chuckled softly, wringing a hand through his hair as he spoke “I mean how could you not? We spent nearly every minute together, you were the one I always wanted to talk to, the one who made me laugh no matter whatever else was going on. Of course I thought about you. I meant it when I said I was going to come back for you”

“I know you did” you answered honestly “even back then, I knew you did”

A moment of comfortable silence fell over the two of you before Anakin broke it “you know I had this plan in my head on how I was going to rescue you” he chuckled  softly, eyes casting up to the clouds above as he spoke “I was going to storm in and demand you back, fight my way to you if I had to, and you would see me and be so grateful that I had finally come for you that you ran to me, threw your arms around my neck and…” he seemed to choke on his next words, a brief moments pause before a humorless chuckle escaped his lips “and that’s not how it ended up going at all”

“It did not” you agreed with your own chuckle

“then I saw you on that throne, looking more beautiful than you ever had before in that gown that I almost forgot what I had planned to say. I panicked and bowed instead”

And you couldn’t help but laugh at that, at the idea of the Anakin Skywalker getting so flustered by anything that badly was absolutely ridiculous.

“Then you acted as if you had no idea who I was” his voice seemed to hollow out at these words, “and this pit grew in my stomach, and I just needed you to look at me and tell me that you remembered me”

You took his hand without a second thought, giving it a soft squeeze as he continued.

“Then I saw you reach over and grab his hand, and you called him darling and smiled at him with that same smile you used to give me and I told myself that I could be okay with that. That I would be okay with that if you were in love with him, if you were happy. If being a princess gave you all you wanted then I would just walk away”

“Then why did you come back” you asked him softly “later that night”

He chuckled softly to himself again, giving your hand a squeeze “I told myself that I just wanted to make sure that you were happy. That if you looked me in the eyes and told me that you liked it there that I would leave. But honestly” he paused for a deep breath, looking down at you for the first time “honestly I just needed to know that you remembered me, that I wasn’t crazy for hanging onto those years we knew each other as kids for as long as I did”

And you couldn’t help but laugh at his words, resting your head against his shoulder as you did so “Oh Ani I could’ve never forgotten you”

“Yeah?” he asked you and though he tried to play it off as a joke you could hear the desperation beneath his voice, how badly he needed to hear you say it.

“Of course I didn’t forget about you” you sighed out, your other hand coming up to squeeze his bicep softly “I’ve been in love with you since we were five”

You felt him go rigid beneath you, a brief moment of panic coursing through you as you sat back up to look at him, his wide eyes planted squarely on you as you straightened up to meet his gaze “you what?”

“I thought it was obvious” you chuckled at his reaction “always practically hanging off your side, doing anything and everything to get you to laugh, to notice me”

You could practically see his brain working to catch up, to process your words “why…why didn’t you tell me?”

“And when would I have done that?” you chuckled again “when you were my only friend in the world that I couldn’t risk losing or after you left to go become a jedi?”

His eyes flitted back and forth for a moment, his head whirling at what had apparently been new information to him only making you smile and shake your head softly.

“And what about now?” he asked quietly

You smirked back up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye “what about now?”

He forced out a chuckle at your words, his grip on your hand tightening unconsciously “what do you think of no longer nine years old Anakin”

You couldn’t fight the grin off your face as you leaned back slightly, allowing your eyes to graze over him, pretending to scrutinize before answering “hmmm not bad. Could use a haircut though”

And you watched a grin grow on his own face at your words, the grip on your hand used to pull you closer to him. “I’ll have you know I like my hair”

“Oh no the long hair suits no longer nine year old Anakin” you assured him, reaching up to run a hand through it “just a little trim”

He caught your hand as you tried to withdraw it from his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist before he spoke softly “okay, for you, anything”

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 8: late

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

' “Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.”

She’s so cool. '

---

You meet the girl of steel, though you've yet to get closer to her. Luckily, you have friends around the corner like Yuuji— and Megumi, too, but it's a little different with him.

word count: ~7k; tws: none for now :)!!

short a/n: hi i’m sorry i was away for so long!! life got a little busy and this chapter took a while to write. I will preface it by saying that this one is quite boring, though, but the chapters to look forward to a bit more are the two next ones!! lots will happen there :). thank you for your patience and i’m so sorry again!

25-6-2018 

By the time you’re back in Jujutsu High’s campus, night time has already shed its shadow against the world, black over Tokyo's fulgid skyscrapers like a veil, the sky devoid of any stars. Tokyo is a metropolis of glittery, coruscant lights that litter the land, with parks and crepe shops and cafes galore. And oh, how you love it every time you come back, from its 90s movie mood to its futuristic innovations. 

Dr Ieiri really had planned everything, as if she’d always expected you to be here: she’d got you a room near her office, even helped to clean some of it up, and promised you that you’d still be merely a room away from the one other female student currently in the school. Once the last first year— a girl— arrived, she’d be staying right next to you. 

“So? How long do you think you’ll be staying?” Dr Ieiri asks, “I know you’re planning on just giving someone something, but you’re going to be here for much longer, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright, but I’ll give you a heads up first. Staying here and operating as an actual sorcerer here, or a doctor for sorcerers like me or your father— it’s a far cry from the last time you were there. I won’t force you to help me when I need it, but you’re still going to be demanded of at almost all times, and I know you’d be the type of person to try to save people as much as you can. You have to be ready for that— the strain and all.” 

So she knew what you wanted better than you did. “I am.” You’ll ask that of your father later, to tell Sugisawa Third that you’re transferring to a religious school in Tokyo. They knew too little of you to think of whether you were religious or not anyway. 

“I’ll help you so you can still take things easy, okay?” 

“...okay. Thank you, doctor.” 

26-6-2018 

Dr Ieiri smokes less than you thought. Really, the night that you first met her was the first time she’d smoked again in five years, according to her. She attributed it to nostalgia and reminiscing on old memories before asking you to just go to bed— it was almost two in the morning. But you thought it made sense that the ones who were made to heal were the ones who mourned what was unhealed the most; you weren’t the only one stuck playing long-gone memories like a panoramic film on loop, a permanent backdrop in your mind. 

“You need to get a good night’s rest,” she’d said, but now you’re walking down the desolate hallways again. It’s fine— if there’s one thing about actually going against your parents for the first time instead of solely refuting them verbally in heated, mangled arguments, it’s that it’s insanely liberating. Before this, you’d have never even considered it an option, yet now it suddenly exists— that autonomy; suddenly, there isn’t a need to follow whatever order you’ve been given. And yes, you do respect Dr Ieiri and probably everyone else in your life, but you can choose not to abide by what they tell you just because you don’t want to— you decide it. No justifications, no reasons or polemics. Just pure responsibility and autonomy of yourself. You can’t fathom now, why you’d been scared of it before, or whether you’d even realised you were. It still feels unfamiliar, like a thrill, like adrenaline from treading on a tightrope above pits of deep, all-encompassing water, but in a week or so you’re going to have become used to it. 

From your room, if you walked all the way to the end of the hallway, you’d see the first year boys’ dorms. You don’t take the letter with you— that’s a bridge to either burn or cross another time, when you’re not right about to sleep. 

Careful to make as little sound as possible, you knock the door, hoping he’s awake. 

You hear his groggy steps as he seems to trudge himself along, before the door opens with a creaky whine. “—it’s one in the morning,” he frowns, “What do you want—” 

“Hi, Megumi.” 

He closes the door. You wait outside for a moment. 

Megumi opens the door again. 

“...I should’ve told you I was here, actually,” you say. 

“It’s one in the morning,” he goes, “Why aren’t…” he blinks his eyes awake a little, groaning as he rubs his temples, “Why aren’t you asleep? —no, why are you even here, really…” 

You’re going to regret your replies come morning, probably; they’ll sound stupid by then. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but that doesn’t really bother you. “I’m sorry. It’s just, um, I actually wanted to give you something, I mean— I’ll give it to you tomorrow or one of these days, but I was just bored. I just got here, and I’m just going to help Dr Ieiri with some things, um. …sorry, did I wake you? You should rest, actually, it helps your injuries heal faster; sorry for waking you—” 

“—no, not… not really. Don’t worry about that,” he states, “But you should still go to sleep anyway. It’s late.” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

He opens the door and heads inside. An invitation for you to enter, it seems, because he turns and waits for you, the door ajar as you hesitate in front of it. 

You come in. 

His dorm room seems quite similar to the one in his old home, actually, the only difference being how his room now is only just a little larger than the one you were in at fourteen. (You wonder what happened to it, whether Tsumiki still lies on her bed with her phone for a maximum of five minutes at the same time every day.) The two of you sit on the foot of the bed, the lack of light unquestioned. Just like things were two years ago. With the lights outside his window, the bustling city still abuzz with their izakayas and night clubs, your eyes can trace over an outline of his sharp face and spiky hair.  

“How long will you be staying?” 

“Quite a while, I think.” 

“...which is?” 

“Probably more than a week.” 

“Wh— then what about school?” 

“Oh, I kind of, um… threw it away. I don’t know, um. My parents knew I’d be here for a long time. I think I’m just going to transfer here. I’ll leave it all behind that way.” 

He sighs, “I know, but that… that just sounds like a thoughtless decision.” 

“The only part of it that I put thought into was whether I’d run away and live or stay and rot there. So when Dr Ieiri gave me a chance I just took it. And I’ll keep taking what she gives me. If not, then… I’ll be stuck dwelling on it for the rest of my life, I think.” For so long, you’d been trying not to do so; to not take that life-determining chance, to decide to dwell yearningly instead of live, and to appease your parents so at least your mother would have that sliver of assurance, but not anymore. They wouldn’t be in your life forever. 

“So you’re doing this just so you won’t live a life of regret? You’re doing this just for yourself?” 

“It’s the same thing as doing this so that I can help people. It’s two sides of the same coin. Not everyone has what I do.” 

“You sound like Itadori,” he says. The way he does so makes your chest ache slightly and you don’t know why. But nobody is as selfless or as much of an unstoppable force as Yuuji is. Nobody, ever. You turn your eyes away from him even if he can’t see you do so in the dark. 

“But Yuuji takes that to the extreme, I’m…pretty sure. I’m just trying to do what I can because I can.” 

You move your right hand to the side, fiddling with yourself, empty hands trying to find something to do. It bumps into something— something warm and soft. Skin. 

With imaginary chills running along your body, you feel Megumi’s left pinky finger loop itself around yours. He clears his throat, breaking the silence, and you look at him again, at the vague shadow before you. “—that’s…that’s my hand.” 

“Oh. Ah, okay,” you say. It feels right this way— comfortable, nervous, jumbled, calm— 

Your hands move slowly, your fingers trying to steady it like steering around an old, shaky wooden boat with only a paddle, set and ready to embark on a journey. Quivering, you pull your right pinky finger away before your hand is fully enveloped under the hold of his. The heat from his palm on the back of your hand transfers itself right to your face and neck. It’s summer, but it feels cold and hot in the best way possible. “Do… do you want me to let go? Do you want me to stop?” 

“...no. I don’t think so. Do you?” 

“No. I want to stay.” 

“Okay. Me too.” 

He does. 

In the silence you sit up, biting your bottom lip, your nerves like jelly and your brain probably fried if not for the lack of sleep. For a moment you decide to look at him, and you see him swifty turn his head away from you as soon as you do so. 

(—so he’d been looking at you?) 

What wakes you up is the sunrise, an early morning. It’s been embedded into your brain to wake up at seven sharp no matter how late you slept. 

He’s sleeping, his face down, water in his eyelashes— you suppose that’s why he has such crystalline eyes, viridian ones that remind you of summer and life and protection. Jade and grass. Shifting into rather uncomfortable positions so as to not wake him, you pull yourself away. 

His hand still remains snug over yours. 

‘Just friends’ don’t do things like this, you think. But at the same time, ‘just friends’ don’t fight curses or heal those who do so, and ‘just friends’ don’t have a third person they had better relationships with before they broke apart while constantly thinking of each other and decided to at the very least become active figures in each others’ lives again. 

This is scary, moving all too quickly. You’re being grabbed by the waist and thrust into a paraglider; you’re flying in the vast expanse of a boundless, unnavigable sky, manning a paramotor with no previous warning or idea of how to do so. 

But he's very beautiful like this. Hair so black it’s blue, eyelashes woven of silk, a jaw so sharp yet so smooth. The sun greeting the sky as it ejects itself from the inky-hued horizon. You don’t know if there’s a creator, or if there’s a god— you’ve heard of Christianity and many other kinds of faith, though you’d never really dabbled in any of them. But you’d definitely thank someone like that, because scenes like these are proof that someone like that exists, and that that someone is an artist, a masterful artist. So he must have created you and given you an apt appreciation for beauty and art, too, as well as someone like Megumi who was beauty and art. 

‘Just friends’ don’t think like that. 

But you still will anyway. You can allow yourself that. 

He makes a tired little noise as he wakes up, taking in a deep inhale. “...did we really—” 

“Yeah. Um. —wait! I should, um, probably brush my teeth first, my breath probably smells horrible right now, sorry—” 

“Oh. No, it’s fine, I should too—” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll go back to my room too; I don’t want doctor suspecting anything, ah—” 

“Oh— okay,” he releases his hand. 

It’s strange to have things like these— little snippets and moments that remind you to just have fun and be a kid. For years— maybe your whole adolescent experience so far— every day hailed with it a new matter to tend to and worry about, and every day you subconsciously wondered if you were wasting your life away, doing nothing but fantasise of a faraway fancy in which you could use the only potential you had for something. 

But who knew that it was so simple, yet so profound: that the excitement and memories that you yearned for could be obtained just from wanting to do so? That if you wanted to do something, you could just up and do it? 

You like it, though. The paralysing, dizzying feeling of it all, breaths caught in your throat and you can’t say anything without stuttering. The last time you’d felt it, it was Yuuji: you’d had yourself emotionally constipated to the point you choked it all up within you, toned things down and muted the intensity of it all before you even felt it. But it was fun then, and now this is much better. It would seem delusional to hope for anything else. There’s not much of a fantasy for you to look to and put yourself into a deluge of daydreams about, but for once you want to feel something without the implications. That must be what being a teenager is like— you’d seen it time and time again in movies, with cliques and girlfriends and gossip sessions, but you’d never had the luxury to have them yourself and be a girl like that. So this must be what it’s like, at least a semblance of it, with its fun and frivolities and feelings straight from familiar flicks. 

Not quite the time to put a name to it just yet, but it’s fun. At least, you can do it a little longer. It feels like a breath of fresh air after chaining yourself down like an anchor to the seabed. 

You rush to the door. “I’ll see you later? For breakfast,” you try to smile as calmly as you can while you turn back to look at him again. 

Thank goodness Dr Ieiri wakes up at eight whenever there isn't much work for her to tend to. 

You set a mission for yourself: hold Megumi’s hand again at least once in your high school career. 

Now that’s how to live without regrets, be a teenager, and have fun. 

Are you being delusional? 

You don’t know what Fushiguro Megumi is to you now, because ‘friend’ doesn’t sum it up well enough, ‘stranger’ doesn’t do the two of you your deserved justice, classmates isn’t the actual term, and ‘boyfriend’ is way too far from the truth. 

So to have dreams like that; thoughts like that, you think as you brush your teeth, you’re probably making a fool of yourself again. 

There’s something going on here and you don’t know what it is. And even if you’d told yourself you were fine with it, you don’t know how long everything else will be. 

It makes you feel like an idiot. 

But in your head you're filled with thoughts and, for a lack of a better term, hindrances. Did he sleep well? Do friends do that? Or was it just the two of you who’d do that? Was there even any meaning behind it all, any implications on your relationship due to this? This way you’d drive yourself insane before you could even get to breakfast. 

Did he like it, though? Could he have liked it, the sight of you sleeping next to him? Of vulnerability? No, he couldn’t, right? Yet, if he did, then—

You needed to calm down. 

(What about the letter?)

Maybe this was adrenaline: you’d run and take a few bites of breakfast before anyone else did, heading back to your room after you had done so. This way, nobody would see you. (You weren’t calm enough to do this, what made you think, in your sleep-deprived mind, that you’d be mature enough to handle this the next morning?) 

Just as you’re planning strategies to spend the whole day holed up in your room and avoid contact with anyone for it all, there’s a knock on your door. 

“Took so much to talk to the dad alone—” he says, his voice muffled as he speaks to someone else, “I could never stand that old geezer! If he’s like that I’m glad I never had to know how much worse his wife is.” 

It’s Gojo, you can tell. There’s a slight mocking tone in the way he does everything, in the way he says and laughs about the most out-of-pocket shit ever— this is one of those times, because you can almost hear what you think is a feral maniac with the voice of an idol laughing like a loon as he bangs against your door as if he’s trying to kill it. 

“You probably shouldn’t hit it so hard.” Dr Ieiri’s voice. 

You open the door. “Yes?” 

“He’s saying that you should come as backup, and I thought it would help you be put on the spot. It’ll teach you how to operate with clarity as you work,” Dr Ieiri explains. 

“Besides, you won’t even need to help that much. It’s just that this way, you’ll be able to do so if it’s needed while we’re here to guide you. Think of a baby taking its first steps with the help of its parents. If it gets dangerous for them, I’ll step in and you can heal them, but if you can’t heal them enough, we’ll just bring them back to Shoko,” Gojo cheerfully adds. Dr Ieiri nods along with him. 

“Ah… okay.” Your first “actual” lesson as an “apprentice”, then. 

“But first, you should change,” Gojo tells you, handing you a set of clothes, “Here. It’s a spare standard uniform that we keep for special cases. Now you can match with Megumi!” 

Your eyes widen, unsure of whether to laugh nervously or slap him or dash in the opposite direction— shawty a runner, she a track star.  

“I’m so sorry that he’s like this,” Dr Ieiri goes. Joking or not, she’s right. You’re sorry she’s dealt with him for so long, too. 

“...thanks.” 

“Don’t bully my student, Satoru,” Dr Ieiri orders, and you kind of like the sound of your new title. 

You wonder how Gojo got used to teleporting with his cursed technique, but you suppose that it comes with the innate ability to switch from one scene to another so rapidly without feeling at least a little sick— like how the shift from the quiet of the dormitories to the bustle outside of Harajuku has you feeling right now. The brightness of the summer sunlight feels like an intrusion as Gojo sets you down and you open your eyes again. 

“Wow.” 

“Oh, it’s [Name]!” 

Megumi looks away. He’s probably embarrassed to hell and back right now— angry at you, even, maybe. You weren’t sure anymore; you couldn’t even think. You try to let the heat rising up to your face subside without fanning it, steadying yourself beside Gojo, swearing that you’d like to be invisible just this once. 

“Sorry for the wait! I had to take up a call. I brought [Name] over here for backup too to get a grasp of the on-field experience.” Gojo says, waving at them, “Oh! Your uniform made it in time.” 

“Yeah! It fits great! Though I noticed it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s. Mine has got a hood.”

It does fit him, you think, as you look at Yuuji. It looks better on him than it did when he sent you pictures of it over text. It’s easier to look at him now than Megumi. 

“That’s because the uniforms can be customised upon request.”

“Huh?” Yuuji tilts his head to the side, “But I never put in any requests.” 

“You’re right!” Gojo smiles, “I was the one who put in the custom order.” 

“Huh… oh. Well, cool!” 

“Be careful,” Megumi goes, “Gojo has a habit of doing that kind of stuff. So why are we meeting up here in Harajuku?” 

“Because,” Gojo clarifies, “That’s what she asked for.” 

“Oh!” Yuuji starts as the four of you walk out of the station, “You’re wearing the uniform too, [Name]. Looking good!” 

“Really? Thanks. I mean, I like the skirt. The uniform makes me feel like a fancy princess in a fancy school or something, but the skirt looks a little like it belongs to an elegant office lady.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Megumi follows, “You… look good. In the uniform, I mean.” 

You force out a laugh— “Haha, uh… you too. I mean, everyone would look good with these uniforms, right?” Wow… 

“...I guess so,” Megumi replies, looking in the other direction. 

If you see Gojo stifling his laughter in front of you, no you don’t. 

“We- we should get popcorn. I read online that said you could get really tasty popcorn at one of the shops in Takeshita Street.” 

“Yay, popcorn!” Yuuji exclaims, “I want some!” 

“Sure,” Gojo chuckles, “The shop’s pretty near here anyway. This is your guys’ first time in Harajuku, right, [Name] and Yuuji?” 

“Ah… yeah, and now that I think about it, Yuuji had never been out of Sendai until recently, actually. Right?” 

“Yeah, but I thought you’d have been to Harajuku before.” 

“I mean, I used to live in Tokyo, but I didn’t really move around. I think the most famous place I’ve been to is Shinjuku-Gyoen. Really pretty garden…” 

“Oh… then we should go around Tokyo one of these days!” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “We should! But you could spend a whole week exploring and you still wouldn’t see all of it,” you remark, “It’s a good idea, though.” 

“Fushiguro, wanna come along?” 

“Uh, sure…” Megumi goes, avoiding eye contact with you. You do the same. 

“...hey, is everything okay between the two of you? How come you’re so shy with each other all of a sudden?” 

“H-huh? Ah, no, no, it’s okay.” 

“You said ‘no’ twice. You usually only repeat words like that when you’re really worried about something,” Yuuji says. Curse his affinity for knowing you. 

“But it’s fine, though. Don’t worry.” 

“Uh… yeah. What [Name] said.” 

“You sure?” Yuuji asks again, a bit concerned. “Okay, then.” 

The rest of the walk mostly goes in silence— Yuuji excitedly heads for things to buy, from funky accessories to buckets of snacks. By the time it’s over and all of you are near the 400 yen corner, he’s decked out in all the Tokyo tourist gear, there’s popcorn in his hands, and sunglasses with frames spelling out “ROOK” on his face. (Maybe because he’s a rookie?)

There’s a well-dressed girl in front of you— you wonder if it’s her, but she isn’t wearing the uniform, so it probably isn’t— and a man most likely bald and wearing a wig with his black-and-white business suit. “Well, hello, there!” the man says to her, “Are you on the clock right now?” 

“No, not right now,” she replies. 

“That’s great! You see, I’m looking for potential models. That’s what I do! Would you be interested?” 

He’s scouting for models? 

There’s a sliver of hope in you that he looks at you next and asks you that question. You’re sure it isn’t going to happen, but you suppose you would like being told you were pretty by having a job associated with people who were— there was no chance, though. In Tokyo, the vast metropolis that it is, there are so many with better looks; better faces, prettier hair, nicer bodies— or people who dress better, walk more confidently; people who are adequate in all the ways you aren’t. 

The thought slightly shocks you, in reality— you haven’t thought about how you may not be able to compare with others since the time when you really did realise that Yuuji would never like you (not in that way, at least, and it still hurts to think about it). You never thought you’d feel that way again, and you never thought you would have to be surprised by such thoughts that had been brought in by something akin to envy or jealousy. 

“I’m in a hurry right now,” the girl denies. 

At least she probably knows just how beautiful she is. 

“Hey, you!” another girl calls. This one is just as beautiful— prettier than you, with brown (probably dyed) hair, and pretty brown eyes to match. She’s wearing the same uniform as you save for some titivations at the skirt, and she looks way better in it than you do. “What about me?” she asks, pointing at herself, “For that modelling gig. Hey, I’m asking what you think about me.” 

She’s so confident, it’s so cool… 

“Oh, well uh… I’m in a hurry at the moment,” the man says. Little bitch boy. 

“What the hell?” she asks, holding the man by the collar, “Don’t run, come out and say what you think!” 

“Wait, she’s the one we have to go and talk to? This is real embarrassing,” Yuuji says. 

Megumi mutters under his breath, “Yeah? So are you.” 

“I think she’s an icon,” you express. 

Gojo waves at her, amused, “Hey, we’re over here!” 

The girl slams the locker door shut after she places her backpack— a really tiny, cute pink one— into its pit of shopping bags. Probably to buy pretty clothes. She’d look really good in them. 

“Right, so now we have our three students! Oh— [Name] here isn’t really a student, by the way, I’ll explain later,” Gojo informs the pretty girl, “I’d like you to meet—” 

“Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.” 

She’s so cool.

Oh, she’s judging them, you think as she stares at the boys. 

“I’m Itadori Yuuji. I’m from Sendai!” 

“Fushiguro Megumi.” 

“Ugh,” she lets out, “This is what I get to work with? Great, just my luck.” 

“She took one look and sighed— that can’t be good,” Yuuji says. 

“Are we going somewhere from here?” Megumi asks. 

“Well, we do have all three—” 

“All four—” Megumi interjects. 

“Ack— no, no, Megumi, I’m not a student, hold on—” You don’t want to be something other than a ghost, not right now, because then you’ll have to deal with whatever you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours that you’d rather beat around the bush and eventually forget about than anything. 

“Okay, we do have all four of you together, and since three of you kids are from the countryside, that means…” he pauses for effect— were you really “from” the countryside, though, if you’d moved around so much that you had no sure idea where your roots were? “...we’re going to Tokyo!” 

You and Megumi watch as Kugisaki and Yuuji chant the city name over and over in unison before arguing over where to head to. But this is Gojo— so there may be a catch somewhere that you just haven’t found yet. 

Megumi looks as annoyed as ever, much like the expression his younger self used to have when his eyebrows crinkled in exasperation from your antics. 

“If you quiet down, I’ll announce our destination,” Gojo begins, and the newly formed pair quiet down, “Roppongi!” 

It’s probably just something like an abandoned building in Roppongi, not Roppongi in all of its glamour itself. 

It’s an abandoned building in Roppongi. 

Gojo explains the situation after Kugisaki and Yuuji’s outrage— “There’s a big cemetery nearby. That, plus an abandoned building, and you’ve got a curse.” 

Kugisaki stops her raging when she finds out that Yuuji is still learning about how curses are formed. “Wait, hold up here. He didn’t even know that yet?” 

“To be honest…” Megumi starts to explain. 

She looks horrified after. 

(If you could, though, if you were anything other than a ghost right now— you’d tell her of how selfless and brave Yuuji is, of how incredible he is that he stopped at nothing to help his friends. You’d tell her that this was what made liking him as easy as breathing air.) 

Before the two of them head into the building, Gojo hands Yuuji a cursed tool— you’d never actually seen one before. You wonder if he’ll be able to wield it well enough: you know he has it covered, but you’re still worried about him anyway. (You always are.) 

And he gives Yuuji a challenge, too, though it’s more like an ultimatum. “Don’t let Sukuna out, okay?” 

Soon the three of you sit down near the building— there’s a block of concrete that you wonder why it was placed there for, and Gojo gestures for Megumi and you to sit down there. 

“Hey, you should be sitting here. I’m fine with standing.” 

“Nah, just take a seat. I’ve got to be on standby anyway.” 

“But you’re the teacher. You should get a better seat. And I’m not injured like Megumi, so I’m fine with standing.” 

“Pft,” he snorts, “You think I actually care about that sort of stuff?” 

You pause. “I… guess not. Thank you. Sorry again.” 

Gojo squats down instead, only his feet on the floor. “See? It’s better this way. Just you and Megumi in your own little world—”

“—please stop.” 

Megumi turns away from you again in embarrassment. 

“Anyway…ah, Kugisaki is really pretty,” you state, “And she seems really strong. I’m still worried, though. What if the curse inside is stronger than anticipated…” 

“...I think I’ll go in too,” Megumi says, “Someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?” 

“You should rest and let your injuries heal, though. I mean, I could help you with that, but I’m supposed to wait for their injuries first—” 

“Well, the one we’re testing this time is Nobara,” Gojo highlights, “That Yuuji… he’s got some screws loose: he’s fearless— these things take the form of terrifying creatures who try to kill him, yet the guy has no hesitation at all. And he doesn’t have the familiarity with curses that you have. We’re talking about a boy who used to live a normal high school life. By now you’ve seen plenty of sorcerers and you’ve seen them give up because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, right?” he explains to Megumi. 

He’s right, though. For someone who had no idea what curses were just a bit more than a week ago, it’s amazing how he can acclimatise himself to such a new life so quickly. When you’d first learned about curses and jujutsu sorcerers, the only reason your life stayed that way was because actually becoming a victim of it seemed like merely a faraway hypothetical, something that couldn’t affect you— up until your father revealed his cursed technique and you exorcised that curse in the store a while after. That was when the ghastly figure of reality that was jujutsu society reared its head and pricked you with its cold finger. As happy as you were after you’d exorcised it, you could feel that empty pit forming in your gut— you did it, thank goodness, but what now? And as your heart raced while you helped that lady, you didn’t address it. 

You supposed the benefit of your position was not having to at all. 

“Hasn’t Kugisaki already dealt with curses before, though?” 

“As we know, curses are born from human minds, so their strength in numbers grows in proportion to the population,” Gojo teaches, “Do you think Nobara understands? Tokyo curses are of a different level than those in the countryside.” 

The curse you handled before would be on the weaker side, then. “In what way?” you ask. 

“Their cunning— monsters that have gained wisdom will force cruel choices upon you where the weight of human life hangs in the balance. [Name], when you fought that curse last time, did it seem to be sentient or self-aware?” 

“...I mean, I guess it seemed like it couldn’t really see the other person there. It was just me and the lady who worked there, so… no.” 

“Well, to put it into perspective, [Name], the curse, had it been one from the city instead, could have done something like take the lady hostage to sort of threaten you and keep itself at large. So this test is to see if Nobara is crazy enough.” 

It wouldn’t matter, though— you were the healer, the medic, the doctor. Whatever level of martial prowess you were supposed to have didn’t concern you. 

“And speaking of tests, [Name]…” Gojo begins, “One of these days, you’ll have to get one too. As someone about to take Shoko’s role, this is your first test as a medic— every mission you get sent to will be a test in that aspect. But as a sorcerer…” 

“Hey. I’m not an actual sorcerer, though, remember? And you should speak with Dr Ieiri first if you want me to expel curses like one and all.” 

“Well, I didn’t speak to Dr Ieiri. I spoke to your dear old dad!” 

“What?” 

“Took a lot of convincing, but—”

“He didn’t tell me anything about this. I’m sorry— I know you just treated me well and gave me a better seat, but why didn’t you think to ask me first? It’s not like I ever really wanted to fight, either. And they were on-board with that. It’s just— why would you change that?” 

Megumi sighs exasperatedly, “Seriously, what is this?” 

“Yeah! What is this, Gojo?” 

“Okay, okay: I’ll share a secret with the two of you, then. You’ve always been tied together, so there’s no use in me telling either of you just to not tell the rest. Keep it between yourselves, okay? Think of it as another part of your shared bond,” Gojo says. 

You purse your lip. (Your mother did that a lot. There is nothing you can do that your parents are not entwined in even now; the roots of them have been planted so deeply into your life, ingrained so deeply into your psyche.) “Look, I just want you to answer me, Gojo. Why did you do it?” Why ruin a consensus that took years of compromise and arguments to settle on? 

“...because you can. I mean, it’s your philosophy to be like that, right? If you have the ability to help someone, do it.” 

“I mean, in essence, yeah, but what kind of point are you trying to make here?” 

“That I think with that mindset you’d make a pretty good teacher. You know,” he sighs with a faux furtiveness, “Your father had that same mindset, with his strength and his intelligence and his kindness, and he was one of the best teachers you could ever have. He wasn’t an actual teacher, but… he was the kind of geezer who people thought were wise and would seek guidance from. A great guy, actually. But to cut to the chase, what I’m saying is that I want you to be a sorcerer who knows how to fight, too, instead of just the doctor in the corner that you believe will be the peak of your potential. I think you can do better.” 

“So? I mean, as bad as it sounds, I don’t want to.” 

“That’s why I just want you to try. I want you to have that test and become an actual student here. Shoko doesn’t mind you not becoming one because she thinks they won’t send you on missions if you’re considered ‘too valuable’ by the higher-ups. But I want you to become my student— I’ll give you time to think about it, but look at this way: you have abilities that exceed what you think of yourself— imagine how it sounded to other sorcerers when they heard of you back then, a thirteen-year-old with a late-blooming cursed technique grasping control of it instantly and defeating a grade two curse, even healing the person left behind. Face it: you’re technically a prodigy. The only thing that separates you from others like you is your humanity that troubles you with a reluctance to believe you can actually do anything.” 

Harsh. “...I’ll think about it. But why spring it up on me now?” 

“Maybe you know too little. O-kay, children, listen carefully. Little [Name]’s father would be a relatively famous sorcerer just because of his partial position as a healer, right? For all your life, you were sheltered and protected by your parents who never wanted you to enter into the jujutsu world. I even spoke to your mother herself, remember? Told her that you’d probably be a window but that you could still use cursed energy. You hadn’t shown signs of a cursed technique yet, but we hadn’t considered that it was because prior to that you never had to use it— the countryside areas you grew up in were practically devoid of any curses that your mother and father wouldn’t have already killed themselves. So, with your father’s quote-en-quote ‘fame’, what makes you think that people wouldn’t have wanted you as a jujutsu sorcerer from the start?” 

Just like that the worlds in your head have had worlds of meanings added to them. 

“So? What do you think, [Name]?” 

You turn to Megumi. When you’re backed out into a corner, your eyes scrambling for a place to put them, you turn to Megumi. 

His hand moves hesitantly to your shoulder, ghosting over it like a teapot over a china cup. “...whatever it is, you’ll do well. Gojo just likes to pull stuff like this.” 

It feels warm. You won’t be in trouble if you don’t run away from this. It’s nice. It’s calm, his steady hand on your shoulder as your heart feels like it’s about to take a nosedive. “...thanks.” 

“Give me some time, Gojo.” 

Yuuji and Kugisaki come back with a little boy in tow. 

“Ah— you’re back!” 

“No injuries, [Name]! We’re all scratch-free! The kid has a bruise on his knee, though.” 

“Oh. Can I see it, please?” you ask the boy, kneeling to his height. 

The boy pulls the left hem of his pants up, revealing a fresh violet blot on his skin. 

“Would you be okay if I touched your knee? I can take the bruise away for you.” 

He nods and soon it’s gone, his skin pristine and new. “Woah,” he goes, “Thank you! Was that magic?” he asks, eyes full of childlike wonder. 

You giggle. “Something like that. Could you keep it a secret?” you make the best welcoming and kid-friendly grin you can as you place your index against your lips. 

“Okay!” he whisper-shouts, smiling wide. 

Kugisaki and Yuuji rest by the building while Gojo, Megumi and you bring the kid back home. 

“You know, I wanted to say, big sister,” he starts, looking up at you, “You’re really pretty!” 

(So cute!!) “Ah, really? That other girl is really pretty too, though.” 

“You too! You could be like a model on a poster!” he exclaims, “Oh wait— I live over there! Thanks again!” he points to the turning on the left. 

“Haha, thank you,” you reply as Gojo waves at him, “Take care of yourself!” 

“I will! Bye-bye, big sister!” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask Gojo and Megumi. “Ack— I feel lightheaded.”

Megumi turns to you in an instant— “You didn’t eat enough for breakfast?” 

“Guess so,” you reply, “I should be fine, though. I think I just had something on my mind the whole day and I couldn’t feel the hunger or something.” 

He whips his phone out. 

“Oh, there’s a famous tonkatsu restaurant back in Omotesando,” you suggest as he scrolls through restaurant options. “I think Yuuji may want to eat something like steak, though, and I don’t know what Kugisaki likes. Is there anything you want in particular?” 

“I’m fine with anything,” he says, “But it’s Gojo’s money we’re going to be using, so we should probably make the most of it.” 

“Mm… we can eat beef steak in Ginza, I think… ah— Yuuji’s grandfather always called it beefteki. I’m surprised I can still remember.” 

27-6-2018 

“Hi. It’s one in the morning, Megumi,” you greet him as he stands outside your room’s door, “Can’t sleep?” 

“...yeah,” he admits sheepishly, “Sorry about this.” 

He sits down on the bed. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s like we’re going to keep doing this,” you start, “Our special ritual. Something like that. I mean, we help each other in this way, right?” 

Your hand strays upward a little, nervous as it inches toward his shoulder. 

He brings your hand there and places his own hand on top of it. “Yeah,” he replies contentedly, “But I… wanted to ask,” Megumi begins, “What Gojo said. Are you going to become a student?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, looking at how things are going now, I may. It seems like things are leaning more towards me being a full-fledged sorcerer. Haven’t had the time to think about it.” 

He seems to pause for a moment, to reconsider something one last time like a record in his head. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“I should take you to see Tsumiki first.” 

You nearly gasp. “She wants to see me?” After all this time? “I’m happy, but… wouldn’t she be busy, though?” 

“No… I mean… you really should take a look at her first. Then you’ll see what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry, but I just— I really should have told you sooner.

“Told me what?” you frown. Learning of this feels a bit like restarting and going back to square one somehow. 

“I’m sorry, can we just… do something else for now? Just… please be patient with me a little longer. I’m sorry you have to do that so much.” 

“…okay.” 

You wake up to his figure being illuminated shyly by the light of dawn. In the tiny bubble that the two of you share— of intertwined paths, secrets, lives— and the sensation of waking from a late night, you realise just how much you want to stay there forever. 

This morning, you don’t rush back to your room and hastily go through your routine. All you do for a while, for what feels like it lasts for a century yet lasts for too little time, is look at him, at his steady, quiet breathing as his eyes are shut comfortably tight.

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[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 7k (part FOUR of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

september 13th ~ friday ~ 6:30 p.m

A week had passed. Seven days had come and gone, and everything was running as smoothly as humanly possible. The first week of classes went well, every one of your sisters in the house upbeat and smiling about their endeavors. There wasn’t much to complain about, within your schedule you had plenty of time during the week to get assignments done, to work on projects and any essays that were due… The academic year would be as close to perfect as it could get.

After a few days of chaos, you were looking forward to moving on. Looking forward to putting your focus on your work, on the job you had in this house, your duty as a member of ITZ. Recruitment breathed down your necks, the jitters growing with every passing day, the uncertainty that ITZ would turn back into what it once was.

At her desk now, Yeji felt the most pressure. It was evident in her creased brow and her pinstraight posture, her shoulders rolled back toward the leather of her chair. For a half hour the nine of you had been sitting in this room, discussing classes, throwing out ideas for recruitment, giving one another updates of the first official week back at Nasara… A conversation you didn’t have much to add to.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You had nothing to add.

“Then, it’s settled,” Yeji sighed, signaling Chaeryeong to write down what she was about to say. “Photos will be taken, Tori will get the announcements together, Mina and I will make sure the services are scheduled to stop by and set up,” she paused, reading down a list, her breath releasing heavily as she said, “After recruitment dinner will be held at ATZ.”

Yuna swallowed a smile, sitting in the velvet chair she typically claimed. Her eyes traveled toward the back of the room, where the other four of you sat wedged on the couch together. You and Tori were on either end of Ryujin who held Isla half on her lap. Your roommate sent the girl a sly wink, the dinner location of her and Mingi’s doing. Mina, attentive beside her president, let her gaze find Tori. The two share something of a small smile.

Since last week they’ve been buddy-buddy. Adorable, really, the way Mina has suddenly started sitting closer to her, closer to you and your friends when you’d hang about the house, inserting herself into the dynamic like she didn’t fit in perfectly with the other half of the house. Tori took her in like it was nothing. Mina fit right under her wing so perfectly that the two have snuck out of the house three more times since last Friday.

Choosing to stay cooped up in your room, spending your time on your classes, hanging around Ryujin, Isla and Yuna, you weren’t into the idea of sweating in the living room of ATZ anymore. Not after the last party. Watching Mina and Yunho swap spit on the couches didn’t appeal to you like it might to some.

The rest of your friends couldn’t get enough.

With Mina around, you didn’t have to watch the Yunho stuff happen, you just had to hear about it. And, good god the girl wouldn’t shut up.

Yunho let me sip his drink, it was disgusting, how do you guys do it!?

Yunho taught me how to play beer pong, I’m actually pretty good, I wish you guys would come so we could play!

Of course Yunho kissed me! He does every time I see him now, it’s like nothing was ever weird between us.

On, and on, and on.

At least the attention was off of you. Not a soul has brought up Wooyoung, and not a soul has mentioned anything about Seonghwa. Not that they would, no one knew.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket again. Reaching a hand back you slipped it out and peeked at the screen before Yeji could catch you. Both messages on your screen made your nerves spark.

[starhwa]: Party tonight. I know you’re fulfilling your sisterhood duties by following the rules now, but if you came I promise I’d make it worth your time.

His message came first. The one received twenty minutes ago.

The second, the newest, made you want to snap your phone in half.

[youknow everythin]: I miss you I hate everything about what’s happening right now Rory

He hasn’t spoken to you since the party, the one you stormed out of because he decided to swallow Mina’s tongue in front of you. 

The following morning you woke up before Tori. Shuffling to the bathroom to wash up before anyone figured out where you were the night before, you found a purple mark in the shape of a heart on the base of your neck. Reminded of everything that had happened, the blurry words you said to him, you didn’t expect to smile.

Make me forget.

You covered the hickey, and have had to all week because that shit was dark, and sent Seonghwa a mortifying text message because you remembered what Yunho had told you a few days prior to you ending up in his sheets. Seonghwa was apparently with somebody, dating somebody, and was unavailable. 

A lie.

A Yunho lie.

So you’ve been talking to him everyday, all week. Yunho was content with Mina, he had his hands full with all that shit. Seonghwa was funny, he was chill. Sure, he didn’t let you rant about life like Yunho used to, listening to everything you would say, keeping mental notes for the future, listening like he was trying to memorize every word… Seonghwa didn’t do that, but he was still an alright friend.

You did miss the daily debrief about your day, about your classes… About his day, about his classes… The end of the first week of classes is when you two would hang at the party, drink yourselves silly and break down your professors and syllabuses. Judging by his message he was thinking and feeling the same thing.

[you]: promised the girls i’d do dinner tonight and i like to keep my promises.. i’ll try to come by after.. hopefully you keep yours 🤞

It was a nice distraction. There were no strings with Seonghwa. For a week it’s been silly banter and jokes. He wasn’t a guy who dated, and if he did you knew you wouldn’t be his long term type. Part of you is shocked that you’re possibly his short term type, never once in the past did Seonghwa ever make any sort of advancement on you. San on the other hand, he’s one of the only boys who’s tried unprompted by you, but, then again San went after anything that sparked his fancy.

Yeji exchanged words with Mina, then expressed something to Yuna. The higher ups spoke cohortly, the rest of you on the outside of whatever it was they were discussing. Something about… uniform? Dress code?

Your phone vibrated.

[youknow everythin]: What???

Whoops.

[youknow everythin]: Oh, that wasn’t meant for me, was it.

You started to type something smart, trying to be witty somehow, but you deleted everything you came up with. The bubbles appeared on the other side and you sighed.

[youknow everythin]: You’re talking to someone else in the house now?? 

Eye roll.

[youknow everythin]: Don’t ignore me, Rory, I really hate this. I feel like you’re angry at me, we don’t do this. 

A notification popped up at the top of your screen.

[starhwa]: What did you dooo Ror

Withholding your smile you took a screenshot of you and Yunho’s conversation and made sure to send it in the right thread, to Seonghwa. It took him a few seconds to ‘love’ the message.

[starhwa]: What a whiny bitch

[starhwa]: ‘We don’t do this’ sounds like something a liar says hmmm

[starhwa]: Come tonight, let’s piss him off

The corners of your lips perked up. Now that sounded like a good time. It would certainly make up for the time spent this week listening to Mina describe every single detail of every single kiss she and Yunho shared.

[you]: i have dinner tonight with the girls, i’ll sneak away and see you after, hwa :)

[starhwa]: You bad girl… I’ll see you later.

“Who are you talking to?” Tori’s quiet voice startled you. “Smiling at your phone like that, who is it?” Slapping the screen flat to your thigh you wiped your face clean and looked at her. The smirk she wore paired with her curious brows made your heart stop for a second. “No, no,” she giggled. The meeting was over, you missed whatever was decided and Yeji’s send off. The girls were rushing out of the room. “Are you talking to somebody?”

“Seonghwa,” you whispered. Ryujin and Isla were gone, Tori had scooted all the way over to your side of the couch. In her sleeveless denim jumpsuit she crossed her legs, leaning into you. At the mention of ATZ’s Vice President her jaw fell open. “Don’t make it a big deal, we aren’t talking.”

“But, you’re texting,” she said, shifting her eyes over to Yeji and Mina, still at the wooden desk. “How did this happen? When did this happen?”

“You know we’ve been friends,” you said, following the shift of her eyes, finding Mina smiling at her. “He’s friends with Yunho too, so…”

“Right,” Tori said, narrowing her gaze. “I’ve just never seen you two talk, that’s all.”

With a breath, you smiled. “Are we doing dinner, or what? I’m starving.”

Tori eyed you for a moment, then nodded. “We are, but we have to wait for Mina.”

Of course you did.

“Are the others waiting?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder to see if Ryujin, Isla or Yuna were still hanging around. 

Tori inspected her acrylic nails and shook her head. “We told them they could go.”

Your brows plummeted. “You and Mina told them they could go?” Tori nodded, picking at her cuticles. “Was I going to be a part of that decision?” She held her hands in front of her, judging her choice of polish.

“I shouldn’t have done teal, Mingi hates teal.”

“Tori,” you said, catching her attention. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, me and Mina said they could leave,” she said. “She’ll be done soon anyways, then we’ll catch up with them. What’s the big deal?”

Did this happen while you were texting Seonghwa, or was this orchestrated before like some sort of secret?

“Okay,” was all you could push out of your mouth.

Twenty minutes later you were finally on the move.

Plenty of time to leave Tori on the couch and scurry off to your bedroom to change your clothes and fluff up your hair. Taking your Nasara hoodie off you slipped into a dress similar to the one you wore last week, except this one was black with thin straps over your shoulders. Tight around your chest, it hung loose around your hips, swinging over the curves with every step taken. Tori exclaimed when you met her and Mina at the bottom of the stairs.

The sophomore took you in and smiled, her eyes falling to your thighs every so often throughout the night. She wore a striped crop top and high rise jeans, her hair styled perfectly beneath her chin, her accessories complimenting her perfectly. Always put together.

It made you sick.

But, that was his type, right?

Put together, hard working, pays attention to details, good girl.

Fuck it. If you were the opposite, which it so seemed, otherwise you’d be the one with him, you’d prove him right.

Tori drove and Mina insisted you sit in the front seat though the two yapped the entire ride over to the restaurant. Situated in downtown Delo, a ten minute drive away from the ATZ house, you sent Seonghwa your location as Tori pulled into the parking lot.

[starhwa]: You’re not far, had me thinking you wouldn’t be here till midnight again

[starhwa]: You’re not walking all that, Ror. I’ll pick you up.

“You’re quiet,” Mina said to you, leaning over the leather of Tori’s seats. Slapping your phone to your thigh, a recurring habit now, Mina watched it, eyed your skin, then smiled at you. “Everything okay?” Tori had gotten out of the car moments prior, pressing her own cell phone to her ear to give Mingi her every ten minute update of where she was and what she was doing.

Dragging your eyes from your roommate to the sophomore, you sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really hungry, I wanted to eat a half hour ago.”

Mina pursed her lips. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “Yeji’s so stressed, I didn’t think she’d keep me for so long after. I hope you know I’m really happy to be here with you guys.”

Sitting forward, pulling off your seatbelt, you let it hit the window as you reached for the handle. “Happy to have you, Mina,” you grumbled, slipping out of the car onto the asphalt.

This street was cute. One of the better ones in downtown Delo that’s been built up, heavy work going into it to make it a thriving city instead of one that people would shake their heads at if it were brought up in conversation. You were at one of many restaurants, a sushi place Isla was obsessed with. A sushi place Isla has drawn mad attention to, essentially helping with the flip of reputation, because of her and her brother.

Along the street lively people hung around, good crowds of smiling people and people playing music on the corners or inside some of the bars. There was a club a few minutes down the street, one that was closed for ages, but had recently reopened. This street was the first to flip people’s idea of Delo, that and the outstanding rep Nasara provided the city.

[you]: I’ll tell you when… are you sure you’re okay with that

[starhwa]: …

[starhwa]: Anything for you.

“There’s that smile again,” Tori teased, following you into the restaurant with Mina on her tail. Shooting her a look, you made her laugh.

“What smile?” Mina asked, her happy-go-lucky grin glowing as she stepped into the dimly lit lobby. Tori nudged her with an elbow and wiggled her brows.

“Her boy smile,” she said.

Mina’s smile faltered. Looking over at you, she seemed to force a laugh out of herself. “What boy?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you’re talking to Wooyoung again?”

Since when did she know so much about that?

You looked at Tori who went unaffected by her bestie’s words. 

“Why would you care if I am?” you questioned.

Tori decided to feel affected now.

“She’s just worried, Ror,” she said, wrapping a hand around your bicep. Guiding you toward the back of the restaurant, dodging tables and waiters, she said, “None of us want you to go back to him.”

Peering back to catch a glimpse of Mina, she gave you a smile. “Do you even know the full story?”

She nodded, her hair swinging below her chin. “Tori and I spoke about it a few days ago. She was giving me the group debrief so I’d be prepared for a night like tonight.” Stepping up to your side as you approached the table your friends were at, Mina took your other arm in her hand and tilted her head. “There are so many guys better than him, trust me.”

“Better than who?” Yuna asked, brows pulled tight in the center of her forehead. Her chocolate hair was pulled back into a bun, her bangs dusting her eyelashes. Glancing down at her and your friends, a laugh sparked at Ryujin with a salmon roll between her lips, frozen, staring up at you with widened eyes. Isla was focused on her plate, a wine glass on the table next to it.

“Wooyoung,” Mina said, and the two paying attention groaned.

“Nothing is going on,” you stated, taking note of how Tori sat beside Yuna, Mina taking the empty chair beside her. The last empty seat was next to Isla, her and her gorgeous hair not giving you the time of day when you slipped onto the wood beside her, across from Yuna. “We haven’t spoken at all.”

“You did at the party, right?” Mina asked innocently, studying the menu in front of her. Piercing her with your glare, Tori kicked your shin under the table, pleading with you with her own eyes to not freak out.

Ryujin, with her mouth full, asked, “You talked to Wooyoung and didn’t tell us?” She leaned forward to get a glimpse of you past Isla.

Yuna stared at you, eyes big and wider than they normally are. “What the hell did he say? What the hell did you say?”  Now, Mina picked up her head.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you breathed, holding up your hands to feign your innocence. “We passed by each other, he told me I looked good, I didn’t say anything back, and that was it.” Tori had dropped her chin, she looked at you through her lashes. Mina, curious as ever, raised an eyebrow.

“Where did you find him, ‘cause…” she shared a look with Tori, “We didn’t see him all night.”

Probably because you were wedged so far up Yunho’s asshole to pay attention to anything or anyone else.

“I hung out with Seonghwa and Yeosang in the kitchen,” you said, keeping your gaze fixated on her to prove your lie was the truth. “I met some girls who are planning to come to recruitment, by the way,” you said to the table, Yuna’s eyes lighting up. “But, I ran into him on the second floor, leaving the bathroom. First floor was taken, so I had to go upstairs. You ever been upstairs, Mina?” The sophomores expression fell.

“Aurora,” Tori said, hushed, like she was disappointed.

“The fuck does that mean?” Ryujin asked genuinely, shoving another piece of sushi into her mouth. 

Isla, reaching for her wine glass, flipped her hair backward and sniffled. “I think she means sex,” she said without concern for how loud she was speaking. Licking her lips, she took a gulp of her glass and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “She’s implying that Mina’s never gone upstairs at ATZ.”

“Okay,” Ryujin muttered, helping Isla place the glass down safely. 

“Damn,” Yuna snickered, putting her focus on her plate.

Tori scoffed. “You guys are sick,” she started. “That’s not what we go there for.”

“It’s what you go there for,” Ryujin smirked, assisting Isla in picking up her sushi for her. Tori shot her eyes back and forth from the two, and clenched her jaw.

“That doesn’t matter,” Tori snapped. “Besides, we’ve been dating for a while, it’s totally different.”

Ryujin perked a brow. “Is it?”

“Doesn’t matter!” Tori nearly shouted. Mina put a hand on her arm, the two sharing a look. “Ror, that wasn’t nice,” she said to you, her big brown eyes now asking you to apologize. As you glanced to Mina, the girl who shared personal secrets with you about going upstairs, the look on her face made your heart twist.

Did she deserve an apology? Probably.

Did you want to give her one? No.

First she’s taken Yunho, now she’s taken Tori. She’s sitting here at dinner with you and your friends, winning them over with her good girl attitude, her good girl outlook on life. She was going to make a difference here, she was going to do some good, she was going to help Isla and be the best Vice President, and help Yeji get ITZ into good shape so more girls like herself would join. 

It’s no wonder he wouldn’t want you. What do you have to give?

Sex on the side because he wasn’t getting it from her?

A fuck when he wanted it because his good girl was being a good girl?

A wise man once told you, fuck him. He’s not worth it.

So, fuck him.

Pushing your chair out from under you with force, startling Isla and Yuna, you grip the back and shove it back under the table, muttering the quickest I’m sorry to either of the girls before hurrying off toward the lobby of the restaurant.

“Ror!” Tori called after you.

Mina’s voice boiled your blood. “Let her go, Tor, it’s okay.”

Tor. That was your Tor.

[you]: come get me now

[starhwa]: Babe, you just got there

[you]: yeah, well i’m pissed off. come get me.

september 13th ~ friday ~ 9:12 p.m

With his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, beneath your hair, Seonghwa kept you close to him while he spoke to potential members of his fraternity. All night since he came back with you he’s kept you by his side, replacing your drinks when needed, checking in on you when you got too quiet, and most importantly, keeping you away from Yunho.

Throughout the first hour of you being here you had your eyes glued to your phone, waiting for any one of your sisters to message you, or call you. You figured Tori would be the first, you’d have a text before you even walked out into the parking lot. But, it was radio silence. After your first two drinks with Seonghwa, who could easily outdrink you, he got fed up and snatched your phone from you, telling you you could have it back if it was an emergency, or if Tori was calling. It lived in the back pocket of his tightly tailored slacks now.

“Remind me your name again?” Seonghwa smiled at the boy in front of him, the freshman with bright eyes that occasionally lingered over to you while they spoke.

The blonde was familiar, you’d seen him before.

“Jongseob,” he said, a cocky smile growing on his face as he tipped his chin up. “Thank you for your time tonight.” He extended a hand to Seonghwa, one which he took and shook. “Your girlfriend is beautiful,” Jongseob turned his chin and extended a hand toward you. Swapping your red cup into the other, you placed it in his hold and he brought it to his lips, pressing the tiniest kiss to your knuckles. Lips parting in shock, he gave you a soft laugh. “I hear great things about ITZ, as well. If all goes well within the next few weeks, I’ll see you at dinner.” His charm was infatuating.

“See you at dinner,” you breathed, voice going shaky as he flashed Seonghwa another grin and turned away. Looking up at Seonghwa, he was already watching you.

“He just called you my girlfriend,” he said through a laugh.

Blinking, you smiled, shaking your head. “You are holding onto me like I’m yours.”

His eyes flashed with something dark, and he asked, “Is that a problem?”

Poking your tongue between your lips, making sure he watched, you smized up at him, knowing you were both thinking about the same thing. “I don’t think it is.”

“Perfect,” Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, shifting both hands to your shoulders, “Then, let’s go dance.”

Letting him guide you down the hall, you were tipsy enough to the point of not noticing anyone if they were watching you. You didn’t want to pay attention to anybody anyway, you were here to forget, you were here to have fun. The other people didn’t matter. Your friends didn’t matter right now. Yunho didn’t matter. All of the bullshit from before, from last semester, from last week… It didn’t matter.

“I wish we weren’t banned,” you said. “You get to have fun with all the interested freshmen. I think Yeji fucked us by banning us, we can’t be here to mingle.”

Seonghwa huffed a laugh. “Yeah, she royally screwed you guys.”

“Hey,” you tried to pause your walk, but he kept you going without missing a beat. “That’s not nice.”

He pressed his lips to your ear. “I’m not nice.”

Chills erupted down your spine.

“Oh my god, just take me upstairs,” you said, shaking your head, and he laughed.

“Not yet,” he mumbled, turning you into the living room full of people. An obnoxious club song from ages ago blasted through the speakers. “First we fuck shit up.”

“Gladly,” you sighed, letting him slip his arms around your waist, pulling you further into the mass of students of every age, the two of you getting lost in the pulse of the music.

Taking your hand to his shoulder you slide it around his neck, hooking it in your elbow, forcing him to lean over you. You danced into him, his hands guiding you against him again and again, his hold slipping lower with every twist of your hips. Sipping from your cup, you eyed him, then downed the rest of the contents. Seonghwa took the red plastic from your hand and threw it to the floor behind him, finally free to cage you against him, both of your hands finding sanctuary in his long hair. He pressed his forehead to yours, the sudden closeness knocking your breath from your lungs, Seonghwa pulling you under his spell within seconds.

“What do you want?” he asked, both hands gripping the round of your ass, pushing your hips into his.

Forced to your tiptoes, you pushed a breath from your lips. “What do you mean?”

Seonghwa’s eyes flickered to your lips. “Out of tonight. What do you want to get out of tonight?” He studied your face, every bit of it. “Last time you told me to make you forget. What do you want to do now?”

“I- I- I don’t…”

“Tell me,” he said, softening his gaze. “Let me help.”

“What’s in it for you?”

That devilish smirk found his lips. “I get you, Ror.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“All these assholes want you,” he said. “And none of them like each other.” The Greek life facade. “Help me piss them off, and I’ll help you piss them off.”

Now that sounded nice. Only, it wasn’t your goal. Pissing off Yunho sounded nice, maybe even pissing off Wooyoung a little bit, but in doing so that would mean your sisters would find out what you’re doing, and if they found out what you were doing you’d have to either tell them it’s fake and risk exposing your truth to the ATZ boys, or play it up that it was real and be forced to keep another thing from them…

“No,” you said, and he wasn’t the least bit shocked. “We shouldn’t even be doing this right now.”

“Why?” He tipped his head back to shake it. “Worried he’ll stop giving a fuck? Because you shouldn’t be.” Gazing up at him, his perfect honey skin dripping with utter lust, his words almost convinced you.

“Seonghwa!”

His voice punched a hole in your gut.

The vice president followed it, looking up, keeping you flush against him. Dusty brown hair and glasses pushed through the crowded living room, ending up at your side. Seonghwa took one look at you, begging for an answer before anything else happened. The smallest shake of your head made him let go of you, the loss of his warmth incredibly disappointing.

Yunho took you in, from what you were wearing down to how you reacted when Seonghwa took his hands off of you. “Hongjoong is looking for you,” he said to his advisor. His higher up. His boss. The two shared something between their eyes, something you couldn’t figure out.

“Is he?” Seonghwa asked, rolling his shoulders back. 

Yunho grit his teeth. “He is.”

You were out of there.

Getting lost in the heaps of people you made your way back into the kitchen, weaving through couples making out on the walls of the hallway. Wobbling to a fridge, you yanked it open, the heavy door swinging toward a group of guys standing against the other side of it.

“Whoa!” A hand caught the door before it hit him. “Hey, you’re Seonghwa’s girl.” That was a voice you knew. Taking a can of fruity bubbles from the shelf, you cracked it open and let the boy close the door for you. 

Jongseob, you think.

“Jongseob,” Jongseob said.

Right.

Sipping your drink, you smiled and stepped closer to him. He was dressed in black and grey, his blonde hair brushing his shoulders contrasting against the dark colors in a weirdly pretty way.

“Jongseob,” you repeated, and he smiled. “I’m not Seonghwa’s girl.”

Twisting his lips curiously, he nodded and glanced at his friends. “This is Intak,” he motioned to a boy with black cropped hair in a white button down and jeans, the top three buttons undone, “And this is Shota.” The third boy had blonde hair like Jongseob, only it was lighter, near white. His eyes were dark, almost void of all color, and the way he dressed reflected his age. An old band tee and ripped jeans with bracelets on his wrists.

“Call me Soul,” Shota said, splaying a hand over his chest. He was tall, all three of them were, but the other two had muscle to them. Soul was wide, but gangly, slimmer than his friends.

“Soul,” you whispered, and he smiled, his pink lips curving upward. “I’ve seen you before, Soul.”

He quirked a brow, his smile growing. “Have you, Aurora?”

You matched his smile. “Sannie’s fun, isn’t he?”

The boy who was attached to San’s hip last week laughed. “When you want a spot in the house he is.”

“Ooo,” you sang, stepping closer to the three of them. Intak, who couldn’t stop staring at your legs, took a step backward. Jongseob and Soul didn’t move. Both were eating you alive with their eyes, the intensity had potential to make your knees buckle. “Seems you already fit in just fine,” you said to Soul. Turning to look at Intak, the boy's brown eyes met yours, and he took a breath. “If I wasn’t in the middle of something I’d take you upstairs first.”

Spinning on your heels, missing the way Intak grabbed hold of Soul to steady himself, you sauntered out to the hall sipping your drink. You weren’t sure what number you were on, but you didn’t care. Everything that weighed you down before suddenly didn’t seem so heavy. These parties really were an outlet, Yeji’s a monster for taking it away.

Crossing the threshold into the living room, ready to find Seonghwa and get on with the night, the front door to the house opened. Tori, Mingi, Mina, Yuna, Ryujin and Isla filed inside.

“Oh, great,” you mumbled, and hurried deeper into the living room, hoping to go undetected. If Wooyoung could do it in this house, at his own party, you could do it too. How hard could it be?

You passed by Yeosang and the girl he was with the other night on the couch, the two sharing a drink, talking to one another in their own world, like there wasn’t a party happening around them. When people stumbled into them, they didn’t even react. He had his arm slung around her back, listening to her as she talked, nodding along, actually listening to her. Wanting to ruffle his waves, you decided to leave him alone. It’d been a week and he was still attached to this girl. That meant something.

Heading back toward the tables set up on the other side of the living room, a hand latched onto your wrist, tugging you backward. Whipping yourself around, wide eyed and ready to unload on the jerk who touched you without permission, when you met Yunho’s frustrated expression, you groaned. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, letting you go, taking note of the drink you were holding. “Why are you hanging around Seonghwa?”

“Why not?” you questioned, folding your arms after a gulp from your can. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” he answered without hesitation, his tone dripping in disbelief, like he couldn't believe you weren’t in agreement with him. “I know how he is, you shouldn’t get involved.” The song changed over the speakers and everyone shouted, another old song pumping through the air. Yunho cringed, sparing a glance at the crowd over his shoulder.

“Are you not drinking?” you asked, looking him up and down for signs of drunkenness. He was really good at hiding it.

“I am,” he said.

“What are you on?”

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“Me either,” you said, shaking the can around.

It fell quiet between the two of you. Staring at one another, you couldn’t feel anything bad as you looked at him. For a second his eyes dropped down your body, so you let yours do the same. He wore ripped jeans and a white long sleeved shirt. Two necklaces hung around his neck over his shirt. The chain was gone.

He looked good.

“I need another,” he said, breaking the silence. Crinkling the can in your hand, you took the last sip and crushed it completely.

“So do I,” you mumbled.

Yunho rubbed his hands on his legs and took a breath. “Wanna go get one?”

Gazing up at him, you bobbed your head. “Sure,” you said, and he nodded with you. “I saw… I saw, uh, Tori come in… And Mina… And I think everyone else.”

He couldn’t look away from you. “Mingi told me they were coming.”

“Oh.” You pressed your lips together tight and sucked in a breath.

Yunho tore his eyes away for all of three seconds before they were on you again. “We can make it to drinks and back without seeing them.”

“You don’t wanna see them?”

He shook his head. “Do you?”

“No,” you whispered.

“Why?” he asked.

Your turn to shake your head. “Why don’t you?”

“Christ,” he muttered, grabbing onto your wrist. He pulled you out of the living room, his head darting back and forth searching for unsuspecting eyes. The only ones you passed on the way to the kitchen were the three freshmen. Intak, Soul and Jongseob, all taking account of who you were with and where you were going. You were goddamn lucky this house stretched on for miles.

He left you outside of the kitchen, planting you by the archway, in the small corner you found Yeosang in last week, just outside of the bathroom door. Disappearing into the kitchen, telling you that he would be right back and not to move, he left you.

The door to your right opened, and a very sloshed Isla tumbled out of it. She shoved it closed and looked up at you, both of you confused, both of you squinting at one another in the dim light.

“Hey,” she said, pushing her messy hair from her face. “When did you get here, Ror, I was worried about you.” She came close and put a hand around your shoulders.

Taking her hand in yours, you laid your head against her arm. “You were worried about me?”

She nodded, leaning into you. “I was, me. These other fake bitches weren’t.”

Your stomach rolled. “What?”

Coming closer to your ear, she said, “These other fake bitches weren’t.” Pulling away, she raised her brows and shot you a look. “They didn’t care where you went, they just kept… Blah, blah, blah, boys. Blah, blah, blah, we look hot. Blah, blah, blah, Mina’s so adorable. Blah, blah, blah… Yunho.” She looked up beside you, and started to smile. “Funny, they were talking about you almost the whole time.”

He had two drinks in his hand, in red cups. “Who was?” he asked, his eyes going slightly wild. Isla stepped toward him and slapped a hand onto his chest.

“Mi-na,” she sounded out the girl's name, then laughed at herself.

Suddenly, Vernon appeared around the corner and sighed, wrapping an arm around her back. “What did I say about wandering?”

Isla screwed her face up and immediately fell into him. “I had to pee, Nonie.” You giggled. “Unless you wanted to come with me…”

Vernon sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. “Definitely not, Isla, let’s go.” He sent his goodbyes to you and Yunho with a nod, then the two were gone.

Looking up at the giant beside you, you took the cup with a tiny thank you, then said, “I didn’t wander.”

Pressing the rim of his cup to his lips, he hid a smile. “Thank god.”

Drinking what he gave you, you could’ve gagged. Pulling the cup from your lips, you voiced your disapproval and he laughed.

He laughed.

He laughed and it sounded beautiful.

“Too strong?” he asked, and you scoffed.

“You think!?”

He took a step closer to you with his grin. “M’sorry, I didn’t think I did that, I can’t really… Couldn’t really tell.”

The dimples imprinted on his cheeks warmed your heart. “Yunho, you’re drunk.”

His eyes went crazy. Dropping his jaw, he said, “Rory, you’re drunk.”

Rory.

“I am,” you said, drinking his concoction, maintaining face, though you both laughed when the aftertaste smacked you across the face. “Fuck, Yo, what did you do?”

Yunho tilted his head, his smile softening. “I miss hearing you say that.”

Blinking, losing all joy in your face, you pulled your lips into a pout. “I miss saying that.”

Sipping from your cups, both of you, drinking a little faster, Yunho came closer to you and took your hand in his. “Come on,” he mumbled, taking you down the hall.

“Where are we going?” You glanced around you as you walked, not that you were vigilant in the slightest right now. Yunho took you around the stairs, pushing through a few girls crowded there.

“Somewhere where I can talk to you without feeling like I’ll get in trouble,” he said, his voice hushed, speaking only to you. 

“Have you been getting in trouble?” you asked, landing on the vacant second floor. The girls on the stairs had their eyes on your back before you disappeared into Yunho’s bedroom.

“Not necessarily,” he said, locking the door behind him. Looking around his room you were torn. You sipped from your cup, almost at the bottom, and contemplated walking out. You were just here almost two weeks ago, mere hours before the earth shook beneath your feet.

“Then what do you mean,” you whispered, turning to face him.

He walked over to his bed, his messy bed. Yunho was smart and intelligent, but he wasn’t organized in the slightest. He was a genius in the mad scientist way, his room was a mess. Clothes were strewn on the floor, his blankets were rumpled, books were scattered about the rug he’s always put down on the floor, and his walls were littered with polaroid photos and scraps of paper that meant something to him.

It was endearing.

“I mean…” he sighed, knocked back the rest of his cup, and threw it to the floor. Sitting on the edge of his bed he put his elbows on his knees and drug his hands through his hair. “It’s obvious, we both know it,” he said, looking up at you. “You said it to me, I pursued her, and here I am, losing my mind over you.” Coming to his side, you sat next to him and finished your drink. He took it from you and threw it to the ground, letting it roll over to his. 

“Yo,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Don’t say what you’re gonna say, because I know it. What I don’t know is how to fix it, Rory. I miss you. This week is supposed to be ours.”

Dropping your eyes to his bed, you exhaled and whispered, “Now it’s yours and hers.”

Yunho moved closer to you, taking your chin in his hands, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. “Stop, no it’s not.” He spoke in a whisper, you both did.

“Yes, it is, Yo. The week is over, and I haven’t spoken to you since last Friday.”

Last Friday when he kissed Mina in front of you.

Last Friday when you decided it’d be a good idea to roll around his friends sheets.

“Why’d you have to talk to her?” Your half broken whisper wrecked his composure.

Shaking his head, he parted his lips and released a breath before he kissed you. A kiss that felt like no other. A kiss that felt right. A kiss you wanted over any other kiss. It was warm, and heavy, and all the more insatiable. You could drown in it, and you wanted to. If you never took another breath again, so be it.

It happened fast, Yunho’s shirt hitting the floor. Between lips on skin and hands drawing everywhere, you were both barely undressed and he was inside of you.

And it was right.

It was how it should be.

On top of him, hands in his hair, straddling his jeans while he pressed kisses to your skin, tugging the straps of your dress down your shoulders so hard that one almost snapped… It felt right, and his strong hands pressing into your hips told you that you would be here all night.

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 10 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,

Part 9

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: the final part. it's been 84 years since i first started this fic. thank you for the love.

word count: 7k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa @viennakarma, @cmleitora, @angeliquekalampoka, @mirrae, @amalialeclerc, @roseseraj, @glow-ish, @janeholt3, @eviethetheatrefreak, @toppersjeep, @miniemonie2001, @angelwithoutmywings, @nichmeddar,

"[Y/N]!"

You don't really hear your name being called at first. You've been stuck in your own thoughts for the last five minutes, staring at something in particular.

"[Y/N]!" The voice is closer to you this time a round but it's still not enough to knock you out of the deep trance you've found yourself in. It's only when the plastic stick laying on the counter top in front of you is snatched away that you're pulled out of your trance.

"You can keep looking at that test all you want, it's not going to change the outcome".

Your eyes immediately shoot up as you see Lewis standing on the other side of the counter with a wry smile on his face.

"What? Huh?"

His smile softens as you struggle to muster up a few words. His sudden appearance and the sudden disappearance of the pregnancy test has clearly caught you off guard. So much so that your cheeks are slightly red at the fact that you've been staring at the negative pregnancy test more than you would like to admit.

"I said, you can keep looking at the test all you want. It's not going to change the outcome," he repeats. You're pretty sure the humour in his voice is to hide the disappointment (or relief) in his voice.

"Unless, you want it to be positive?"

You immediately shake your head. "No, oh God, no!"

Lewis chuckles once more, "It's okay, [Y/N]. If you don't want to have babies with me you can just say i- Owww!"

His hand immediately shoots up to his now sore bicep. No thanks to the punch that you've just thrown at it.

"It's not funny, Lewis," you try to stifle a laugh but the look Lewis is throwing at you as he rubs his bicep is only making you fail.

"And no, I don't want it to be positive," you continue. A lot more serious this time. "The last thing any of us need right now is a baby in the picture. Life is already a shit show, I don't need to add literal baby shit on top of that too".

Lewis smiles at you softly. He's still rubbing at his tender bicep. Drama queen.

"I know," he responds. "Would have been a cute kid either way though".

Because you and Charles are some of the most attractive men I've ever laid eyes on?

But you held back on expressing that thought out loud. The situation at home was still extremely raw. The fact that you and Lewis were having a conversation like this was almost a miracle. Especially after you learned that Lewis and Charles had a face to face meeting while you were spending some time in your home town. A conversation which Lewis had initiated. How he ever got Charles' contact details was something that you were too scared to ask about. Some things were better not knowing.

And while you were thankful that both of them left their confrontation without any physical bruises, there were clearly some internal bruises that still hadn't quite healed. Especially when Charles had looped you in on the conversation, distain in his voice any time that he mentioned Lewis. He was so agitated after the meeting that Charles had unintentionally ratted both Lewis and himself out on the fact that neither of them covered themselves in glory. Both of them using their sexual experiences with you to try and get one up on the other.

He didn’t ask you whether or not you had sex with him before you went to Belgium. When you had confronted Lewis about the meet up, he volunteered that information himself. It was his way of “being more honest in our marriage” before he ranted about Charles being arrogant and entitled. How ironic.

You were initially angry at their behaviour but you somewhat understood it. It was childish and pathetic for the both of them to use you having sex with them as some sort of dagger into the other's heart but they were desperate. Trying to salvage whatever they could from your relationship. And who was to say you wouldn't behave the same way if the roles were reversed?

You feel your breath catch in your throat as Lewis is staring at you.

"Because that kid would have the most beautiful mother," Lewis finished his sentence, his voice ever so gentle.

His words leave you without any words of your own. You feel your heart strings tug as his words sunk in.

You hadn't realised a tear was running down your cheek until Lewis wipes it away with his thumb. His eyes meet yours and you begin to feel your body slowly melt as under his gentle touch.

While, to his credit, Lewis was there for you when you began panicking about your period not arriving and offered his support, this moment was so delicate and intimate. And it had been the first moment like this since you had returned from Belgium a few days ago where you could almost feel you give yourself to him.

And while your relationship was still at one of its lowest points, it felt nice to have a moment like this and appreciate that deep down, you've always loved each other. Even if at some stage in your relationship you had grown to dislike one another.

As the two of you are still looking at one another, you feel your hand reach up and lay it on top of the land Lewis has rested against your cheek. Your fingers eventually lacing into his.

You were savouring this moment with him.

You stood like this until the two of you were interrupted by Roscoe. He'd clearly been missing some attention from the two of you and decided that dropping a slobber-coated toy onto your feet was the way about getting your attention again.

"Thanks for that, Roscoe," you joked as you kneel down to pick up the toy and begin to play with your beloved pet. And as you do so, you can't help but notice that Lewis' eyes remain fixated on you.

As you played with Roscoe, your mind drifted to what lay ahead for you. You weren’t ready to let go of Roscoe. Surely you’d come up with some arrangement either with Lewis but you weren’t sure how emotionally ready you were for all of this.

You placed a kiss on the tip of his nose before Roscoe decides that he’s ready to lay back on the sofa for a while. You decide to follow him with Lewis not far behind.

As you sit on the sofa beside Roscoe, you’re a little surprised that Lewis decides to take a seat on the other side of you. He takes your left hand and intertwines it with his own. He’s smiling to himself but he looks sad.

He stays silent for a moment, before finally letting you know what he’s thinking. “It’s weird holding your hand and not feeling your wedding ring”.

You let out a little sigh before resting your head on his shoulder. “I know. I feel naked without it”.

Lewis begins to play with your fingers. He’s touching you as if he’s remembering every last millimetre of your body.

“Why do you think your period is late?” he asks you quietly.

“Probably stress,” you tell him. “High levels of stress can affect my cycle”.

He nods. His tattooed fingers are tracing the palm of your hand. Memorising every little line.

“Have you told him?”

He doesn’t want Charles’ name mentioned in your home any more. He told you this before you left for Belgium a couple of weeks ago. And out of respect for your marriage, with what little hope there was left in it, you obliged with Lewis’ wish.

You sigh once more, “No. I haven’t”.

He doesn’t think you catch it but you see the glimmer of joy that quickly flashes across Lewis’s face. For him, it’s a small victory. When you found yourself in a state of panic last night, realising that your period was over a week late, it was Lewis you had come to. You had trusted him to get you a pregnancy test this morning. And you had trusted him to wait with you while you waited the two minutes for the result.

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out,” he had told you.

You had nodded, not saying much. Once the negative result showed up on on the test, he had pulled you in for a hug as he waited for your reaction.

He didn’t know what outcome he would have wanted. The possibility of you having a child with him excited him. But then the realisation that it could also be Charles’ angered him. And so he said nothing.

But as he sits here now, with your hand in his and your head on his shoulder. He feels some sort of hope. Maybe he was delusional. You had taken your wedding and engagement rings off after all. But you were here with him. And it was him that had supported you through the pregnancy scare. Not Charles.

You looked around the living room, taking in all of the furniture and decor that you and Lewis had bought over the years. Wondering how you were going to divide it all up. It was a job you could save for another day. But you didn’t have long before you had to figure it all out.

“Are you excited about the idea of New York for a year? Work must be happy that you said yes”.

You feel Lewis let out a deep exhale while your head still rests on his shoulder.

When you had returned to London a few days ago, after a couple of weeks at home, Lewis had received a call from work about an opportunity in New York. They were expanding operations and needed a man on the ground to oversee the project. And as Lewis spent a lot of time in the US over the years, they felt like he was the perfect man for the job. And they needed someone ASAP.

And with your marriage in tatters and having spent the day before looking at Charles' smug face, Lewis seized the opportunity without a second thought. That was until you arrived home and he broke the news to you. He was moving across the pond. After a heated discussion, Lewis finally admitted that he didn't know what that meant for the two of you. He was keen to fix things between the two of you but he couldn't go back on his commitment.

If only the commitment of a lifetime together had meant just as much when all of this started almost two years ago, you thought.

“Yeah, I mean I love New York. It’s my second home. But there’s just so much to do before the move in six weeks,” he replies. “My mum said she’d take Roscoe for us. Until I figure out if it’s a more permanent move”.

“That’s good”.

“You can visit whenever you want though. She doesn’t need me there to want to spend time with you,” he continues.

You look up at him and smile.

“I think she prefers you to me, anyway,” Lewis scoffs, causing you to let out a giggle.

“Not possible, Lew”.

You pause before asking him, “Did you tell her everything?”

He shakes his head. “No, not everything. But she knows that we’re separated,” he tells you. “What about you? Did you tell your mum everything?”

“No. Same as you. I’m not ready for the lecture she’d give me,” you sigh.

Lewis half-heartedly chuckles.

“So she doesn’t know about him?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you sigh once more.

Your hand has still been in Lewis’ the whole time, his fingers still tracing every millimetre of your skin.

“You know, work said they’d be able to get a visa for you,” he tells you quietly.

You lift your head from his shoulder and look at him.

“You what?”

He looks at your hand in his for a moment longer but finally lifting his eyes to look in yours.

“They said they’d get you a visa for the States. So you can come to New York with me. We can start fresh,” he sounds nervous. “We can start a new life. A new city, a new beginning.”

You don’t say anything. You’re just trying to process what he’s told you.

“We've always dreamed about New York, baby. This could be our chance to make things right. I want to make things right.”

-

Your mind flashes back to the first time that you stood outside Charles’ building. You’re just as nervous this time around as you call Flat 807. Charles has made sure that Joris and Riccardo weren’t home, he’d save you from their rathe for today. He just wanted you to himself. It’d been long since he’d been able to do so.

As you’re buzzed into the building and make your way towards the lift, your conversation with Lewis about New York is still rattling around in your brain. Well, it was more of a proposal from Lewis rather than a two way conversation.

He’d told you about an apartment he found in Greenwich Village. You were a big fan of the show Friends so it was the perfect area in Manhattan for you both. It had an extra room, perfect for a walk in wardrobe for you both. Or even a nursery if you guys were ready to start a family. He’d clearly taken inspiration from your recent pregnancy scare. He then told you about how Roscoe could eventually move over and how you could spend winter weekends skiing in Vermont with spring and summer weekends spent in Miami or the Bahamas. It was your choice for a do over. The past forgotten. The future full of possibility.

Just thinking about it made you feel dizzy. And you couldn’t allow it to occupy your mind any longer. Especially not when you were about to see Charles for the first time since he came to see you at Whitney’s.

You pushed the idea of New York to the back of your mind and made your way out of the lift as you reached the 8th floor. You see Charles waiting for you at his front door.

Your heart skips a beat at seeing him again and you immediately run towards him. He’s just as desperate to see you as he pulls you in for a hug, burying his face in your neck. Indulging in the feeling of you again.

"I've missed you, amour," his voice is so gentle in your ear.

Your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers already getting lost in his long locks.

"I missed you too, Charles".

You embrace each other for a little longer. It's the closest you've been in so long and it feels so fulfilling to have him cling onto you like this.

As you fingers softly massage his scalp, you turn your head slightly to place a gentle kiss on his ear. While subtle, the kiss causes Charles to lift his head so he can look at your face and your eyes immediately connect with his.

"Hi, baby," you whisper. Your fingers are still lost in his hair.

"Hi, amour".

The smile that's on his face is almost enough for you to just want to grab his hand and run away with him forever. He looks so happy. It's the smile he gave you when you told him you loved him for the first time.

Despite what your body is telling you, your mind flashes back to a couple of days ago when you had that intimate moment with Lewis. And you were almost ready to give your everything to him. And that's how you feel now. But you can't help but feel guilty.

"Are you okay, amour?" Charles asks you. A hint of concern in his voice.

You've gone quiet for a few moments and so you nod to reassure Charles. You need to get Lewis out of your head. And so you lean in and kiss Charles.

The feeling of his lips on yours soon allows you to forget about your husband. As Charles' hands make their way to cup your face, you feel the image of Lewis in your mind drift away.

The two of you slowly make your way into Charles' apartment, lips still attached. You stumble your way into the kitchen where Charles lightly presses his body against yours so you're backed up against the counter. He eventually peels his lips away from yours.

"Merde, I don't think you realised how much I've missed you," Charles says with a light chuckle. You can't help but smile.

"I know, I've missed you too. I can't believe it's been almost three weeks since I've seen you".

"It's the longest we've ever been apart, amour".

You can't help but let out a light-hearted laugh. It felt good to see him after all this time. Bar from having to behave in public around your friends and, erm, husband, yourself and Charles could barely stay apart from each other once you were in close distance to each other.

You always seemed to find a way back to each other. And here you were once more, in his arms. His face ever so close to yours. The smell of his aftershave subtly lingering in the air. He was intoxicating.

"How was Belgium?" he asks you.

"It was fine," you respond. "Nothing ever really changes there though. But it was nice to see my mum. It'd been a little while".

He nods. "Yeah, I know the feeling. It's been a while since I've been back to Monaco," he says before pausing for a moment. His eyes quickly scan your face before continuing, "Did you speak to your mum about what's happened?"

You shrug your shoulders. "A little. I mean, I told her things haven't been great between Lewis and I. That we were spending time apart".

Charles nods once more. "How did she take it?"

You let out a sigh. "I mean, she was upset that I've been having a hard time of it. But honestly, I think she's a little relieved. Her and Lewis didn't always see eye to eye".

Charles can't hold in his laughter.

"I feel like I've heard that once or twice before".

You roll your eyes playfully. The grin on Charles' face right now is bordering on smug.

"Yeah, well, he's a polarising character. You either love him or you don't," you sigh while crossing your arms across your chest.

Talking about Lewis in front of Charles is a lot harder for you this time. The memory of the last few days is coming back to the front of your mind again. The pregnancy scare, Lewis, New York. Talks about babies and new beginnings. The nervous feeling is growing in your stomach once more.

Your mind continues to race. Only when you feel Charles place a hand on your cheek do you snap out of it.

"Amour?"

"Huh?" you ask, suddenly started. "Did you say something?"

Charles shakes his head. "Don't worry about it?"

"No, Charles, what did you say? Sorry, my mind went blank," it's a little bit of a lie. You can't tell him that your mind keeps drifting back to Lewis.

He lets out a little sigh before asking, "Do you still love him?"

Fuck! You so weren't ready to answer this question.

And the longer that Charles looks at you, waiting for answer, the more nervous the feeling in belly grows. You lick your lips. And as you run hand through your hair, hoping to find the courage to answer Charles' question, you notice his eyes move towards your hand.

Your left hand.

While you're caught off guard, Charles grabs your hand and pulls it towards him. He inspects it closely, taking in a sight that he's never seen before. You're ringless.

"Charles," you begin but stop as he looks up at you. You're unable to read the look in his eyes.

"You're not wearing your rings?" he asks, his voice almost silent.

You shake your head, you need to find your words.

"Charles... I have to-"

Charles saves you from having to find any more words. You're ringless and for Charles, that's enough proof and the answer he'd been looking for.

Your hand still in his, he lunges towards you and catches your lips in a sloppy kiss. The desperation of being apart from you for so many weeks is getting to him. And now, seeing you without your wedding rings, he can't be without you any longer.

The kiss is messy as the two of you grow more and more hungry for one another. Your tongues have found their way into each others mouths as you claw and grab onto one another in any way that you can. Your hands in his hair. His hands on your ass. Your hands under his shirt, the feeling on his chiseled abs being glazed over by your finger tips. His hands kneading your breasts.

At one point, Charles' hands make their way to the back of your thighs as he lifts you up. Your legs instinctively make their way around his waist. Lips still very much attached, Charles leads the two of you two towards his bedroom. You're slow in navigating the hallway. Banging into walls and furniture along the way.

As soon as Charles manoeuvres his way to the bedroom, he kicks open the door before placing you on the bed. His lips never leaving yours.

The desperation of needing one another only intensifies as the two of you begin to strip one another. Clothes are being pulled off one another in record time, finding themselves in every corner of the bedroom. Your lips even stay attached as Charles fiddles with the hook on the back of your bra while you pull down his boxer briefs. His penis didn't take long to become hard and fully erect. The absence of your body for three weeks and the lonely nights of imagining your touch was enough to have him hard and ready.

"Oh shit," you gasp as you feel Charles fingers graze your folds. You hadn't even noticed him remove your panties from your body.

You hiss again as he pushes his fingers past your folds before his fingers begin to make circling motions on your clit.

"Mhhmmm," you groan. Charles' warm breath is hitting your face and you open your eyes to see his face practically against yours. He's looking into your eyes, watching you as you begin to squirm and groan at his gentle touch.

"Did you miss me?" he whispers, applying more pressure onto your clit.

You nod as you let out a groan, your head falling backwards. As you shut your eyes once more, you see a flash of Lewis' face and immediately open your eyes.

You're grateful that Charles is toying with your clit as you let out a squeal at the image of Lewis.

What the fuck is happening? you ask yourself. You've had sex with Charles, more times than you can remember and yet Lewis never came into your head before. But today, he won't leave you alone.

Needing to occupy yourself, you wrap your hand around Charles' member and begin moving your hand up and down with consistent strokes. Your thighs jerk at the sound of Charles growing in your ear.

"Shit," Charles groans at your touch.

Your lips find each other's once more in another wet and sloppy kiss as you both play with one another.

"Do you want me to lick you out?" Charles grunts into your ear before he begins sucking your lobe. Occasionally licking at the skin beneath your ear.

"Yes," you pant.

Charles wastes no time and quickly makes his way down to the bottom of the bed. He doesn't spend time playing with your breasts or with teasing you any longer. He's hungry and he wants to hear his name roll off your tongue again.

You look down at Charles as he takes a familiar position between your legs. He makes sure his eyes are connected with yours before he leans forward to suck on your clit.

"Oh, God," you instantly cry out as you feel his lips on you. Your thighs jerk once more.

Charles releases your clit from in between his lips so he can give your pussy a long, wet lick.

"Say my name".

You moan at the sound of his voice, so deep and commanding.

As you open your mouth to say his name, Charles takes your clit between his lips once more.

"Oh my god, Charles," you squeal.

Charles begins his assault on your pussy once more and your hands find their way to his hair so you can release some of the tension by pulling at the strands. His face is practically buried against your thighs as he devours you. He's takes in the sight of you squirming before him. Your moans are like music into his ears. He pushes your hips back down towards the mattress before sliding two fingers inside of you.

"Oh, fuck. Charles, I can't," you whimper.

Your pussy is throbbing as Charles' fingers move in and out of you.

"Can't what, baby?" he teases.

Your eyes immediately shoot open at the sound of Charles calling you baby. He never calls you baby.

"Shit, I-," you begin but he plunges another finger into you.

"Do you want to cum?" he chuckles. However, his laugh is anything but innocent.

You nod, hoping that your orgasm ends whatever the fuck is going on in your head right now.

And it does, as you moan and let your body reach it's peak, you look down between your thighs once more as Charles laps up all of your juices.

He puts aside any opportunity for you to return any oral favours as he climbs on top of you, positioning his body in between your legs as he prepares to push himself inside of you. But before he does, he looks at you for permission.

"Are you okay to go?"

You nod, unable to find your words as you come down from your orgasm.

Charles wraps your legs around his waist before lining his dick up against your still throbbing pussy. He takes a moment before he pushes himself in side of you. The both of you moaning simultaneously.

While you adjust to his penis inside of you, he places his hands either side of you head. His face close to yours once more. Your juices glistening his lips and stubble.

His hips move slowly at first, aware that you may still be sensitive from your recent orgasm. As his hips begin to pick up a rhythm, Charles leans down to place a kiss on your lips. As your lips move against his, you let your hands roam across his chest and torso. Letting your fingers dance along his skin.

His movements are finding some momentum as Charles is thrusting in and out of you. Moans rolling from your tongue as you feel his cock moving deep within you. You're taking in every movement and thrust, letting him kiss you however he pleases.

"I... I love you, amour," Charles whispers into your ear.

Tingles run through your entire body as he confesses his love for you. At first you moan at his response, after all he is fucking you. But you let one of your hands run up to his cheek, making sure that his eyes are looking into yours, before you tell him,

"I love you, too".

It's enough for Charles to pick up his pace and begin thrusting into you even quicker than before. The two of you moaning more and more frequently.

Charles takes you by surprise as he takes your hand. It's your left hand. And he's wrapping it around his throat so you're lightly choking him.

You look at him, surprised. But he doesn't let it stop him. If anything, he fucks you harder.

You've never choked him before. You notice that he's running his fingers over your hand that's over his throat.

Wait.

He's not just wanting him to choke you, he wants to feel your hands on him because you're no longer wearing a wedding ring.

You try not to let this phase you. After all, you've thought about Lewis more times than you would like since you came to Charles' place. You won't let him get into your head as Charles makes love to you.

"Merde," you hear Charles groan. He's clearly enjoying the feeling of your hand around his throat while you have no idea how you feel about this. It’s all so new and out of character for Charles.

"I prefer it when you choke me instead," you joke. You feel a sense of relief as Charles laughs.

"Anything for you, amour," he pants as he lets your hand go before he gently places his hand on your throat.

"I don't want to go this long without you again," Charles grunts. The movement of hips becomes more sloppy as he nears his peak.

"I love you, Charles," you whisper as you feel yourself reach your own high. A knot tying in your stomach.

He leans down to place another kiss on your lips before he tries to pick up the pace.

"Fuck, I love you," he moans. He thrusts into you a couple more times before finally releasing himself inside of you.

Charles collapses down on the bed beside you. The room is also silent aside from the two of you panting, recovering from your orgasms.

As you lay on your back, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, pulling your body against his. He places a gentle kiss on your temple.

But you can't seem to get rid of the feeling that's in your stomach. And the longer the two of you try to recover, the larger the knot becomes.

You almost flinch at the feeling of Charles' fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

"Sorry, amour, didn't mean to startle you," his voice is so sweet and so warm. He pulls you closer to his chest, not wanting to let go of you.

"I... I can't believe it," Charles begins.

The knot in your stomach won't go away.

"I, I wasn't actually sure if you'd leave him, you know," Charles continues. "When you left for Belgium, I thought it'd be okay. But when I met Lewis that day, I was a bit sceptical. He said that the two of you had sex before you left. I tried not to believe him but the longer you were away, I started to believe it may be true".

It's like he has word vomit. He can't stop talking. He's so relieved that you're here.

"But then you said you were back and you wanted to meet. I was a little hopeful but you never know how these things go. But when I saw you get out of the lift and when I saw your face, I just knew it was all going to be okay."

He leans down to place a kiss on your lips. He's so excited.

"And then I saw you without your rings. I... I can't quite believe it. But it's real. And you're here, with me and we-"

"Lewis is moving to New York," you blurt out.

Fuck, that isn't what you wanted to say. But Charles is so happy and he can't stop talking.

But now he has, and he's looking at you. He's a little confused but he's still happy.

"He's moving to New York?"

You untangle yourself from his arms as you sit up against the headboard. Charles follows suit.

You look at him and nod. Charles can't help but smile as he takes your hands in his.

"That's good, right?"

You gulp. "He's moving in a few weeks".

Charles nods. "Okay, well if you need somewhere to stay, you can always stay here. We'll figure it out, okay? We'll get somewhere of our own if you want? But the important thing is, we can be together".

'Charles..."

"What’s wrong, amour?"

You let out a sigh as you close your eyes.

"I... I ... Lewis is going to New York and he wants me to go with him".

The End.

(There will be a sequel please don’t kill me)

[edennill]

Browsing the #Maglor Fëanorion tag

🌌 at-even follow

This track is honestly such a mood

#my go to background music for when I'm missing home #maglor fëanorion #music tag

6 notes

🎶 songkind follow

I'd love it if Maglor haters didn't clog the tag though 😡

🍏 forrest follow

He's literally a kinslayer

🎶 songkind follow

No one asked your opinion.

🌅 anar-is-cool follow

I couldn't be more indifferent to him but there are "#anti -" tags for a reason guys.

#just through a quick search I found #anti maglor fëanorion #20k members #maglor is a kinslayer #7k members #anti-maglor #1.8k members #and there has to be more

203 notes

💛 ur-loving-frnd follow

My outlandish crack theory no one asked for:

Maglor Fëanorion is Caranthir and the Ambarussat in a trenchcoat. Wait, listen - I've got semi-reasonable arguments for that one lol.

read more

#This is all ignoring that I've actually met him #let's say they hired an actor xd #maglor fëanorion

79 notes

✨ aitos-url follow

#aitos #polls #maglor fëanorion

3948 notes

🌠 d3nq follow

You know you're old when you realise you remember when Maglor last released a happy album

#shitpost #maglor fëanorion #edit: oh wow I didn't expect this to blow up so much

9704 notes

👤 luinhasnopfp-luinneedsnopfp follow

I honestly can't believe how many of you pay lip service to justice and respect and political correctness and then turn around and listen to maglor fëanorion . you are aware you're popularising kinslayers, right? and don't care it's actively harmful?

❄️losseth following

like I'm a Sinda and I listen to him ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

👤 luinhasnopfp-luinneedsnopfp follow

he literally uses quenya in half his songs girl

244 notes

🎶 songkind follow

.

#this is just me rambling but I really can't describe what it is exactly. it speaks to me though #just how much more deeply than everyone maglor feels and suffers #I don't think it's something I or anyone (incl his critics) can understand #you can't judge him on a normal basis he's that kind of person #a category of his own #maglor fëanorion

11 notes

🔥n0ru follow

If you know you know

#maglor fëanorion

1099 notes

[itsstrange]

Karl Urban/Reader

Reader and Karl are friends. Like each but dont say. Live about 6 houses away from each other with her shitty ex in-between. Reader goes to ex house walks in on him cheating. (You decide what) Runs out and winds up at Karl's house. But not home at the moment. He comes home to find reader sitting on his porch.

He takes care of her. Maybe confess attraction to each other other . Fluff and smut and sweetness if all possible

**idea came from something that happen to a friend of mine . They had someone always there.

A/N: Another Request Delivered. I actually debated on writing this one because I wasn’t sure how other people would view me as. But just wanted to leave this out in the open, in case your friend is not comfortable or not happy with a story being written in regards to her past experiences and would like to be taken down I would gladly do so, not many people would want others to know what they’ve been through. So Again, feel free to lmk and I’ll right away take it down! ❤️

ANOTHER NOTE: Everything that has been written is NOT what actually happened in the real events, all of it was created by me! I did Not write anything that was related to the situation! In fact I have no idea what exactly happened, but I will again remove this story if the requester’s friend is not comfortable with it. Sincerely, ItsStrange ❤️

Treat You Better

Fandom: The Boys

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: (Yess-ish?) Toxic Relationship, Mention of Verbal Abuse, Arguments, a Little Bit of Physical Violence, Hurt Reader, Protective Karl, Confessions, Smut, Kissing, (You Know The Smut Tags)

Like in Mendes words: “I know I can Treat You Better, Better Than He Can,”

————

Enjoy! 🔥

————

——————

“Need another?” Russel’s deep voice startles you from where you’re focused was on your bandaged hand, fingers gently prodding at loose strands of strings,

Your bloodshot red eyes meet his light brown orbs, concern and a hint of anger we’re hidden behind, but no words of said feeling we’re displayed at you. Even if that’s all he wanted to do, let you know how he feels of the certain situation that you are currently in, let you know you are better off, that you deserve better and should have just dumped the fucker from the beginning, but he didn’t. Because from the years that he’s known you, he knows expressing his own feelings and opinions on the subject would not help, yes maybe the you deserve better would be appropriate to let you know, but the rest of what he has banging in his throat is not appropriate. Nor is it a humane thing to say, at least not right now.

Hell, the things he wanted to do to that son of a bitch for hurting you yet again were not humane. Just from your expression alone when you came strolling in his bar let him know something had happened, but when you finally told him everything as he bandaged your bloody hand, pure rage was igniting inside of him. Especially at the condition of your hand, it hand bruises already forming, split knuckles with dried blood smeared throughout your skin. If it wasn’t from the explanation you had told him he would have thought you had just came back from a brawl.

So from what you had told him, you were just coming back from the studio, your first album after two years of taking a mental break was finally coming out which you couldn’t be more excited. Everything you’ve been through, all the losses you’ve had the last couple years, the struggles you were going through were being put into your new album, and you couldn’t wait to share it to the world, to let your fans know it’s okay to feel low because at some point you find that strength to rise up once again.

Yet, despite of your excitement about your upcoming project, there was always that dark cloud hovering in the back of your mind, reminding you of reality, of what waits at home for you. The first couple of months that you had given him a second chance were great, they were amazing, perfect even, but it was the last two months we’re everything started to fall back into old habits. The constant arguments of the smallest things, the jealousy between you two was stronger than before, the cruel words that were exchanged on a daily bases were just insane. You two were not working, again, and you weren’t happy, but for some reason you just couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t call it, you couldn’t decide if you should end it or give it more time to see if he’d fucking change some how. But he never did.

And it was tonight that proved to you he will never change.

It had been a long day at the studio. All your frustrations and stress were put into the studio, into your music that you hadn’t realize it was nearing one in the morning. Not only did you also realize you were completely drained, both physically and mentally, but you also noticed it was passed your limit to keep the room, so after saving everything, packing everything up, you bid your farewells to your team before following Tim, your bodyguard, to the suv to drive you home. You honestly didn’t want to go home, knowing what waited for you, pure disappointment and a pointless awaiting argument. Just the thought of him waiting in the entrance of your shared home, probably drunk off his ass made a headache form. You wouldn’t doubt it, he had been blowing up your phone since you left that morning in hopes to stay away from him. And Lordy did that bring ridiculous accusations from the idiot. Claiming he knew why you left the house so early on a Sunday morning just like you have been the last couple of months, which you couldn’t help let a scoff out before ignoring the rest of his stupidity messages.

You could have easily told Tim to take you to a hotel, but you honestly didn’t want to rise suspicions from him, nobody knew of your on again off again struggles with your toxic boyfriend, not even your own family, because you knew what they’d say. So, to prevent any words that you don’t want to hear you hid your toxicity relationship from them and only displayed a fake happy couple for family gatherings or public appearances. Because you honestly don’t think you’ll be able to deal with all the prying questions from people left and right. So hidden it stays.

After hours of driving in comfortable, peaceful silence, something you knew you wouldn’t have for the remainder of the night, you finally arrive at your house. Thanking Tim and relieving him for the night to catch some sleep as well, you slowly make your way towards the black wooden door. You noticed how all the lights have been turned off, which is a rare thing to see when the lowlife is home alone and drunk. It was even more rare when everything seemed quiet as soon as you stepped inside, maybe he left to drink with his moron friends, you remember thinking to yourself as you shut the door. But the silence that engulfed the entire home was soon cut short with a muffled moan coming from upstairs. You remembered the way your body froze at the sound, both at the fact that it was not a pained moan nor was it a man’s moan, no that sounded way too pitched to be a man’s moan.

The event played clearly in your head. Heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling from the rage that was quickly rising in your veins as you slowly walked up the stairs, feeling the way your hairs from your arms rise when the muffled grunts and moans sounded much clearer as you stood on the second floor. Breath picking up its pace as the rage only seems to grow when you made your way to the white door that was slightly ajar. You believe you’ll always remember the way your veins boiled with rage at the sight in front of you.

The familiar tattooed back facing your direction was clearly oblivious to your presence by the door as the asshole was too busy making the female underneath him cry out of pure pleasure. Your hands shook by your sides, slowly forming into a tight fist, however, it wasn’t until Bryan, that piece of shit had leaned his head back that caught his attention to the mirror, recognizing who you were he immediately turned to look at you but was sent falling back against the bed, crushing the girl. Pain traveled up your wrist, but you didn’t care, not with the rage blinding you, the moment he went back against the cushion you finally let your bottled up emotions on the man. Sending blow after blow, some connected with his face while others missed just passed his head.

‘Y/n stop!’ You remember him pleading to you but was cut off with another strong blow to his jaw, that literally sends him off the bed and onto the ground with a groan,

The moment he touched the wooden floor, you bolted out the room without another word. Not even when he pathetically calls after you, scrambling on his feet gathering whatever clothing he can get as he tries to reach you, but just as he steps outside the door you were already in your car driving away.

Hot tears slid down your face, both from hurt and rage, all you saw was red. The things that you wanted to do, the pain you wanted to inflict on him, your mind raced as you blindly drove down the street.

It wasn’t until you had reached a red light where you realized the one person you truly wanted to cry to was not an option right now, Bryan knew that’s where you’d run off to, so in order for that not to happen you knew you needed to be somewhere far away where he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Which leads you back here, sitting at Russel’s bar, with a possible broken hand. Your old man’s best friend, or as you like tell everyone to know, your uncle Russ, was your second choice to hide away for a couple minutes, maybe an hour or two. You honestly don’t know how long it has been but from the empty glasses of shots in front of you, you know it’s been at least passed an hour.

“Kid?”

Russel speaks out again, grabbing your attention once again. Your (E/c) eyes meet with his own, brows tightly knitted as he observes you with that familiar dad stare. Shit.. what did he ask me again? Oh right..

“Yeah.. I’ll take one for the road,”

The older man eyes you for a second, watching the way your mind wonders once again as you look down at your empty glass, but goes ahead and reaches for the Jameson bottle that you’ve adopted since you arrived at his bar.

“Where you headin?” Russel asks as he pours another pour for you, hoping you weren’t going back to that nightmare of a man,

Cradling the glass in between your hands, numbs playing with the rim of it, you think of his words. You knew where you were going, but didn’t know if it was safe to go, considering his house was only a few blocks down from your shared home with that son of bitch. Then again, it has been an hour or so since you’ve left and the constant messages you’ve received from him only shows he has no idea where you are. Thank god you never introduced him to your families bar, a decision you had made a while back after your first breakup, he knew where your mother lived, knew where your siblings lived, knew where your close friends lived, so you knew you had to have one spot to hide away from him, and Russel’s bar was the place.

Russel never took it to heart on why you never brought him over, in fact he rather not have him anywhere near his bar, he never did like him from the start, which you never took it personal because you couldn’t blame him. Jesus.. you knew why Russel never accepted him and yet you still decided to be with that piece of shit, and for what? You don’t even know why and that alone brings a soft snort from you, catching the bar owners attention.

“You should wait up, let the Jameson cool down,” Russel claims, picking up the shots in front of you and placing them in the basket to wash later,

Your eyes lift from your now empty glass, which… you apparently had drank, and look at the man who takes the glass from your hands before replacing it with a large glass of water.

“Drink and sober up,” He demands, knowing you weren’t exactly on the right mental state to be driving with alcohol in your system,

Even if he knew you were able to hold your alcohol pretty well, he still didn’t want to risk your life, neither one of your family members would ever forgive him if he’d ever let anything happen to you under his watch.

After chugging the large glass of water, eating some salted cashews and watching a rerun of some football game for a good 30 minutes or so, you begin to climb off your stool. Just as you reach in your pocket for some change you feel a cashew hitting you directly on your forehead causing you to flinch.

“That better be you fishing out your car keys and not money,” He points at you with a long finger,

“Russ-,” You try but was cut off,

“Don’t Russ me. Go. Go to your mom’s and rest up kiddo, and when mornin comes, you better give her the whole story so she can personally kick his ass,” You roll your eyes with a short chuckle as you steal another cashew from the bowl to throw it at him,

“Alright, G’night Uncle Russ,”

“Night kiddo, get there safely,” He pleads as he walks around the bar to give you a tight hug before walking you out the building,

You wave at him before making your way to your car, where you sit in the drivers side for five minutes, debating whether you should just drive to mothers home instead of his, it was pretty late nearing three in the morning, but if you were being completely honest you didn’t need anyone else other than him right now. It was him you needed, his soothing words, his warmth, his comfort, him.

You just hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with you for dragging your problems to him so late at night.

++++

As you rounded the familiar street, you turned off your headlights just in case Bryan was still awake, despite him staying six houses down, knowing him he’d still know it’d be you pulling into the street. So after turning the lights off, you pull into his driveway where you notice his 2018 black Hellcat sitting there, indicating he’s either home or he took the Mustang for the night. Your thoughts are answered when you went to knock on his door only to receive no answer after the fifth knock.

So with an exhausted sigh, you go ahead and sit on his front steps. At this point you should have just went to your mothers house, at least there you had keys where you can easily walk in instead of waiting on the front steps like a loser. Which speaking of, the longer you sat on the steps and each yawn that escaped from you only pulled on your exhaustion even more. Making you realize just how tired you were, both physically and mentally, all you wanted was sleep. Sleep until the night vanished, until you weren’t in this moment, sleep until you wake up feeling happy for yourself again instead of feeling such pain and frustration. It’s all you wanted at the moment.

However, before you can actually allow yourself to fall asleep on his steps like a total loser, you hear the familiar roar of an engine driving down the street, then bright headlights blinding you for a second before coming to a stop right next to your rs7. Lowering your head down to rub away the spots from your vision, you hear the engine shutting off right before hearing the drivers door opening and closing.

Than that beautiful deep rich accent filling your ears.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out your name, causing you to look up at him, a small smile tugging on your lip as you bring down your face again, slightly avoiding his gaze for now,

“Where are the boys?” You ask, starting small talk as you pick on dead skin on your thumb,

“With their mum. Just came back from the pub,” He responds as he slowly walks closer towards you, what you didn’t see was the way his brows were tightly knitted together as he observed your hunched frame on his steps,

They only knit tighter and his worry only grew when you respond with a small nod, along with a whispered ‘nice’ as you continue to look down at your lap, avoiding him. However, just as he’s within reach he notices the dried tear stains on your cheeks, but what really makes his blood boil was the way your right hand was bandaged up, starting from your wrist to your knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he crouches in front of you, getting a slightly better view of your face. Although, as you continued to avoid his gaze, he softly places a finger underneath your chin before gently lifting your face, where your red eyes finally meet with angry hazel orbs.

“Where is he?” Is all he says, hazel eyes never parting from yours,

Dropping your gaze from his, you slowly shake your head as best you can in his grip, “I don’t know,”

Of course you’d lie. And of course he knew because without another word he grips his keys in his hand before rising and darting back towards his driveway.

“Karl stop,” You call out to him, slowly walking after him,

“Gonna kill that cunt,” You hear him snarl over his shoulder, but before he can reach his lawn your small hand wrapping around his forearm stops him from going further,

“Stop,” You tell him, hand still holding onto his arm with a loose grip,

“That fuckin’ cunt crossed it,” He claims, voice laced with sharp venom, hazel eyes shining with rage instead of his warm, welcoming orbs,

“I know. But he’s not worth getting in trouble for,” Your own eyes held a firm look as you gazed up at his angered orbs, then, with an exhausted sigh you close your eyes, “Can we just..,” Another sigh, “Can we please just go inside,”

Karl’s anger and frown slowly fades away as he reads the exhaustion on your face. Just how long were you sitting out here for? Why didn’t you give him a call? He asks himself, but rather than prying you with such questions he simply nods at you before letting you lead him up the stairs. After fishing out his keys, opening the door he lets you walk in first before following right behind. Once shutting and locking the door, he makes his way to the living room, where you quietly stood by the entrance. Just lost in thought or possibly replaying the nights event.

“Here, sit down,” He offers, gently walking you to the couch, “I’ll make coffee,”

You let out a soft chuckle as you sit down, eyes looking up at him, “It’s nearly four in the morning Karl,”

It was then you realized his form and outfit of the night. Hair slightly tousled, grey t-shirt, green leather jacket on top, faded jeans with some brown boots on his feet. He looked absolutely handsome, just like any other day.

A small smile tugs on his lips at the realization, “Tea then,” and with that he makes his way towards the kitchen,

Leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, fingers playing with dead skin on your thumbs while your mind drifts once again, thinking about it, about him, about how much time you’ve wasted on him. How much energy you’ve physically and mentally drained from yourself by simply being with him. Then realizing just how stupid you were for even considering on giving that piece of shit another chance, realizing just how much of a fucking joke you made yourself look. You sat there blaming yourself for all the shit you decided to go through, for having faith that he would change, for believing he’d actually love you and care for you.

But now look at you. Back to square one. You wouldn’t have been in this situation again if you hadn’t given him another chance. You wouldn’t be feeling like a fucking joke if you hadn’t given him the okay a few months ago, nor would you be sitting in Karl’s couch with dried tears and smeared makeup if you’d just told him no.

‘No you can’t come back, no this wouldn’t work, no we just aren’t meant for each other, no you are a fucking waste of time.’ If only those were the words you had told him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.

After about four to five minutes of brewing the tea, pouring a good amount into two mugs, and putting one spoon of honey into your navy mug (which of course he knows it’s the only way you’ll drink tea). He finally makes his way back to the living room, where he finds you sitting with your feet up on the couch, arms hugging your legs towards your chest, with your cheek resting on your knees. However, the sound of your soft sniffles has him reaching the couch in two long strides. Placing both mugs on the coffee table he settles right next to you before hugging your hunched frame, which you immediately hide your face in the crook of his neck.

The tears that rapidly slid down your cheeks weren’t from heartbreak, it was from anger, embarrassment, shame, and disappointment. Not from him, but from yourself. You were angry at the fact that he cheated on you again, angry at that fact that you trusted him again, angry at the fact that you were so stupid in giving him another chance. Embarrassed at the fact that he made you look like a fool again, embarrassed that the whole world will once again know he cheated on you, embarrassed that you are going through this shit again. Every emotion flowed through you, consumed you that all you can do is just let it out through rapid tears. Your hands gripping tightly onto Karl’s shirt as you try burying your face deeper into his neck, as if that’ll shield you from the total embarrassment that you are facing at the moment.

“I’m so fucking.. stupid!” You sob against his skin, hands clutching tighter onto his shirt,

Karl is quick to shush you with a shake of his head. Tightening his hold on you as he lets one hand sooth your back, awhile slightly rocking you both on the couch.

“Shh.. no you’re not,” He mumbles on the crown of your head,

“I n-never should’ve..-,” The words get stuck in your throat as another angered sob leaves your lips, “God.. I should’ve fucking known!”

“Shh,” He continues to soothe you, body slightly rocking you, hugging you tighter and closer towards his chest, “Just let it out love. Everything you feel right now, just let it out. I’m right ‘ere,”

And you do. You let the hot, angry tears slip down your cheeks, let the bottled up emotions fall past your lips, your broken, frustrated, angered sobs filling the quietness of his living room.

It wasn’t long when the tears had stopped falling down your cheeks, when you’ve calmed down and simply just laid your head on his chest as he laid back against the cushion. Hand cradling and gently massaging your head, soothing you and comforting you. Yet, his fingers come to a halt at your sudden words.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, fingers playing with his grey shirt, feeling guilty for burdening him with your situation, “M’sorry for.. bringing my shit to you,”

His brows knit together as he glances down at your head, “Don’t be,”

“I am,” You argue back, voice slightly quivering and breaking due to the crying session not that long ago, “If it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here. Bothering you.”

Karl stood quiet, weighing his words that he wants to tell you. That he’s been wanting to tell you, ever since your first breakup, he wanted to let you know but was never given the chance. Then before he knew it, it was too late, he had lost the opportunity to let you know but now, now he won’t let it slip. He was scared before, fearing it would ruin things between you two, he’d lose you for what he reveal to you and he couldn’t have that. He still doesn’t want that, but you have to know. No matter what happens, he just has to let you know.

“You’re right,” You hear him say, feeling the way your heart slightly shatters at his agreement, but before you can even begin to pull away from his hold his voice stops you from doing so, “You shouldn’t be going through this. You shouldn’t be runnin’ from home, shouldn’t be crying at my steps at the three in the mornin’… fuckin hell (Y/n)..,”

He curses with a frustrated wince as he slightly forces you to sit, forcing you to stare into his eyes as he continues, “You deserve more. You deserve the whole fuckin world, every happiness there is. You deserve to be treated like you should be treated. A goddamn queen,” His hazel orbs bore into yours, not once parting, not even with his next words,

He hesitates for a second, but pushing the fear down he finally says, “Any guy would be lucky to have you.. and believe me when I tell you… I’ll do anything to see you smile. I’d give everything to bring you nothing but happiness and love. I’ll Treat You Better. Because that’s what you deserve,”

You stare at him in shock, tears slowly building as you take in his words. Never in a million years did you think this man, your closest friend, a talented well-known actor who gets to travel the world for his work, gets to meet and have dinners with other well known actors and actresses—who by the way are some of your all time favorite people— would ever make such a deep confrontation to you. Who would share the same feelings you have been desperately trying to stow away for multiple reasons, fearing if you ever gave into said feelings you’d lose him forever, so you went ahead and kept those feelings to yourself and try to distract yourself by putting so much effort in trying to fix a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be mixed nor was it meant for you.

As tears slowly slide down your cheeks, you feel a warm hand resting on the side of your cheek, then a soft thumb gently brushing away a tear. Hazel eyes locking with your own, not once parting away.

“Let me love you like you deserve to be loved,” He whispers, thumb still wiping away fresh tears,

No words were said, just a simple nod from you was all he needed to finally let his lips latch onto yours. The kiss was soft but firm as you both poured your hidden emotions into it. Fresh new tears slid down your cheeks as you kissed him, relief is what they were. Relieved that you finally gave in to those feelings, relieved that he too shared those feelings and that alone caused the tears to come out as you cherished his warm lips.

The kiss soon picked up its pace when he gently prods your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, which you gladly accepted. The moment his tongue sweeps with your own, it has you melting against him like no other, has you forgetting about everything around you, forgetting about that asshole, the pain on your hand, everything. All your focus was on him and only him. The way his mouth collides perfectly with your own, the way his hands gently run along your hips, legs, towards your lower back before maneuvering you onto his lap.

“This okay?” He asks in between kisses, hands respectfully waiting on your hips,

“Yes, please,” You find yourself begging him, but he doesn’t tease you about it, nor does he laugh at your neediness because hell, he too was desperate for you,

Without another word he dives back to your lips, letting them collide much rougher and firmer. Letting your tongues battle with each other before allowing him to take control. A moan and a groan can be heard between you two when you slightly rock your hips on his lap, making you feel just how much he wants you at the moment. Yet, it was another firm rock of your hips that has him rising from the couch, strong arms holding you against him as he makes his way towards his bedroom. Once there he quickly walks towards his bed where he gently lays your frame against the cushion. He hovers over you, lips still connected with each other as he teases back with a thrust of his own hips, causing a small gasp to leave your lips when you feel the way his hardened member presses against your covered core.

He didn’t tease for long considering he’s waited for this very moment for as long as he can remember. Not wasting another second he slowly begins rising your shirt up your body and off your frame, tossing it to the side of the bed he lets his warm lips press feathery kisses along your skin, causing goosebumps to travel throughout your body with every kiss he placed on new piece of skin. You then feel the way his hand slips beneath you before feeling your bra loosen around your chest, then feeling the way he slowly removes it from you. Large hands cover your breast, emitting a low moan when he grips and massages them before allowing his mouth to wrap around one of your already hardened buds. A gasp once again escapes from you at the sensitive feeling.

Yet it soon fades when he averts his mouth from your breast to your lips, pecking them once, twice before letting you remove his own grey shirt from his frame. Your hands land gently against his toned chest, then letting them travel down his torso, watching the way his toned stomach flexes at your nails ghostly scraping against his skin. Your fingers land on his belt where they begin to undo it from its place. Once unbuckled, button and fly open, your eyes are locked on his when you slowly reach inside his pants, watching the way his lips turn to a firm line as a deep heavy sigh slips through his nose at your touch. Feeling the way his harden member slightly twitches when your rubs become firmer.

However, what emitted a broken grunt from the man hovering above you was when you let your fingers slip past his dark briefs to grip onto his thick heated shaft. A shuddered sigh escapes past his lips at the first tug you make, hazel eyes slightly disappearing behind those eyelids as he tries to keep his gaze on you with every stroke you give him. After the fourth tug he bends down to plant a kiss on your lips before pulling away from you to let his own hands undo your jeans. Once your shoes had been removed, your jeans were next, following your navy underwear, leaving you completely bare to him. You hear the way he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as he observes your naked frame, hands gently rubbing up and down your beautiful thighs.

“Ātaahua,” Karl whispers huskily under his breath, hazel eyes scanning your naked frame before locking them with your own,

Heat rises up your cheeks at the familiar word, yet before you can even decided on hiding from him he quickly bends down to peck your lips before rising once again to remove the remainder of his clothing. Now that his jeans and briefs were off him, leaving him bare to you, your eyes grow wide as you scan the rest of him.

Yeah you felt him a few seconds ago, knew he was thick from touch alone, but now, seeing it up close and personal you didn’t think he’d be that thick and.. big.

His member stood proudly in between his legs, pre-cum leaking beautifully and deliciously from his cherry tip. Veins visible underneath his shaft, looking like a fucking master piece and definitely causing your mouth to go dry from the sight alone.

“See something you like love?” He

responds above you, voice lower than usual, smirk proud on his lips as he stares down at you,

Speechless is what you we’re. No words were able to form nor spill out your mouth, so instead you glance up to meet his eyes, which were laced with lust as he towered over you. Even under the moon light shining brightly through his window, you can see just how much he craved you.

His smirk slowly fades away as he begins lowering himself where he latches his lips on yours once again. A soft moan vibrating through your lips as you feel the tip of his cock rubbing beautifully against your core, then a loud gasp filling the air between you two at the sudden feeling of firm fingers rubbing circles against that bundle of nerves. Causing your back to slightly rise off the bed with parted lips, which Karl immediately dives his warm tongue into your mouth, freely exploring your warmth.

“You are perfect,” He whispers against your lips, fingers still moving between your legs, collecting your wetness and spreading it along your mound before letting two fingers push past your folds,

Earning yet again another gasp and a moan from you. The feeling of his fingers slowly dragging in and out of your heated core has your eyes closing shut, breath picking its pace and grip on his shoulders tightening with every thrust of his hand. The moment he adds his thumb into the mix, it’s like a hurricane begins building at the pit of your stomach, your breath hitches in your throat when he speeds up his movements, your nails dig into his skin when the coil nears its end.

Once snapped, he didn’t even hesitate in pushing his aching member inside of you, nor did he warn you as he begins moving his hips into you. The feeling of his thickness stretching your walls with each pull he’d make only electrified your orgasm, nearly knocking the air from your lungs from how strong it had hit you.

“Fuck,” Karl groans at the sight of you; eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open with breathless moans slipping past those raw lips of yours, completely melting under his hold,

Something he hoped to see one day. And here you are, all for him and only him.

Once he had eased up with the slow thrust of his hips, letting you calm down and catch a breather for a few seconds, you signal him to keep going with a small nod which he complies with a much firmer thrust, earning a breathless gasp from you again.

“Aroha ahau ki a koe,” You hear him whisper breathlessly in your ear over and over with each thrust he sends you,

Causing the same tears of joy, relief, and love to slip down your cheeks from the amount of emotions your were feeling at the moment. The feeling of your second orgasm approaching quicker than you thought, the way those words repeated in your ear every so often, reminding you and showing you just how much he meant his feelings towards you. Showed you just how much he’s longed for you, with everything combining into one the emotions become too much that you couldn’t help the tears to slip out.

One hand gripping onto the back of his dark locks, you gently but firmly tug on his hair, just enough to slot your lips with his. Allowing them to mold into one once again. Breathless pants were shared between you too as you both neared your peak, which didn’t take long. With one slight maneuver from Karl, the new position gave him the opportunity to plumage his member deliciously against that spot, causing you to once again melt under his hold. Nails digging painfully but beautifully against his skin, leaving red marks along his broad back as he continues with his thrusts.

“Aroha ana ahau ki a koe,” Was all you needed to whisper back for Karl to reach the end of the line,

With a loud, choked groan, he slams his hips into you one last time before feeling his own orgasm overpowering him. Sending him in a blissful state. Strong arms shook before him as they prevented him from crushing you, breath coming out in quick choked puffs through his nose as he rode it off, grunts rumbling in his throat every so often until he’s calm down.

Slowly and gently, he guides himself out of you, earning a faint whimper to vibrate in your throat at the empty feeling then a chilled feeling to rush through your entire body when you feel the way his seed drips down your raw core.

After a second or two of gathering your breath and coming down from your high, you open your eyes only to see his own closed shut. Hands still plastered on the bed on either side of your head to keep him upright you watch him as he takes in deep steady breaths through his nose before exhaling. A short smile tugs on your lips as you watch him, observing the way his hair slightly falls down his face, sweat glistening beautifully against his skin, making him look absolute stunning. Even under the dim light.

With no words, you let your left hand reach up, letting your fingers run through his dark beard until they reach his slightly damped locks. The gentle massages that your fingers apply against his scalp has those hazel eyes of his to finally be on display. They held sweet love in them the longer they lingered on yours, then watch as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lip before letting one hand cradle your cheek, thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

Still smiling down at you with hazel orbs locked with your own he whispers, “Toku ao,”

Your brows slightly furrow at the unknown word, but a smile still tugged on the corner of your lips, “I don’t know that one,”

A faint chuckle fans your face. Hazel eyes not once leaving yours as he speaks once again, which not only widens your smile but also has your heart erupting from pure warmth and happiness with his next words.

“You’re my world,” Those beautiful hazel eyes of his that crinkle at the sides stare at you with so much love and light,

Bending down he closes the gap between you two, placing two long pecks on your lips before maneuvering himself to lay on his side where you are quick to cuddle right next to him. Your head on his chest, arm across his abdomen with one leg draped over his. You both stood awake for another ten minutes or so just talking about anything and everything, from sharing when exactly you both had realized one’s feelings to how was work to random topics really before finally falling asleep.

The way Karl would gently draw invisible shapes on your shoulder blades had you drifting away in matter of seconds, and the way your steady breathing would invade his ears Karl followed soon after. Leaving you both in a peaceful sleep while still holding onto each other.

Not once letting go, even when you both had moved during your sleep, neither one had slipped up. Karl knew this because around somewhere in the afternoon, his eyelids slowly open, the back of your head being his view. Hair surprisingly looking nicely combed and beautiful even through the night it had been through.

The thought of going back to sleep to get some more rest laid heavily behind his eyelids, but just as sleep would overtake him again the sound of banging on the door has him lifting his head from the pillows. Brows tightly furrowed as he wondered who can possibly be knocking at his door. Another rough bang against his door has him averting his eyes to your still sleeping frame, completely unaware of the intruding noise, showing him just how exhausted you must’ve been.

So with slow and careful moments he’s untangling himself from your hold before slowly climbing out of bed. Grabbing his briefs from the floor and slipping on some black sweats he quietly makes his way towards the door, where someone was determined in knocking down his door with those brutal knocks.

The moment he swings the door open and realizes who’s behind it, his face instantly changes from annoyance to anger. Standing outside his home with a dark grimace on their face was your ex. From what Karl can tell he hadn’t slept all night.

“Where is she?” He demands, hands quickly forming into fists at his sides,

“The fuckin’ nerve you’ve got comin’ here,” Karl snarls back, one hand gripping onto the door handle as the rage slowly boils in his veins,

“Where is she Urban?” The man tries again, taking a step forward as if to intimidate him, but what he didn’t know was with each step he took was only getting him closer to his own grave,

Karl scoffs, removing his hand from the doorknob to face him directly, “Not at your house that’s for sure,”

It was at that moment he’d realized where exactly you’d be. After taking in his appearance; no shirt, just sweats, hair completely a mess, all signs were clearly visible.

“You piece of shit,” He goes again taking another step but Karl took one step forward, stopping him in his tracks as he over towers him,

Hazel eyes looking directly at those slightly frightened blues of his.

“You never deserved her mate,” Karl claims, eyes turning firmer as he continues with, “Now how ‘bout you leg it, before I make you swallow your own fuckin’ teeth,”

The threat made a cold shiver run down Bryan’s back. He still displayed a firm look, hands balled into fists at his sides, but both men knew it was all a cover. Bryan truly didn’t know Karl and but he knew at that moment, this man would risk his entire career for you. Which not only frightened him but also worried him on the lengths he was willing to go for you.

So, with a weak attempt of displaying a tough look, he holds his glare until he turns around to walk away from the man’s front lawn. Karl watches him walk back to his car then watches him burn rubber like total asshole before finally walking back inside, realizing just how much rage was riding in his veins. His hands shook from the amount of anger he had and from the tight grip he kept to prevent him from lashing out, but with a deep inhale though his nose he makes his way back to his room.

Where you remained asleep.

Slowly and carefully to not wake you up, he climbs back into bed. The moment he settles on his side, you turn in your sleep, facing him directly, his grey sheets slightly slipping off your shoulder, revealing that beautiful skin of yours, revealing your gorgeous face.

Just by looking at you did it subside the anger he had. The effect that you had on him. It was also at that moment he realized just how madly in love he was with you, how he’ll do anything for you, protect you, love you, give you anything and everything in the world just to have that beautiful smile of yours on your face at all times. He promised himself and you, that last night will be the last night you cry in front of him, it will be the last time someone hurts you, he promised you he’ll always be there, your very own shinning armor protecting and guarding you till his very last breath.

He knew he wanted you in his life for the rest of his life, but he didn’t know he meant it the other way until the words softly slipped from his mouth, a part of him freaked at the sudden realization, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes just how truthful and right the words felt in his chest. He repeated it again in his head then as he brought his warm hazel eyes to your sleeping form, he lets them fall again as a promise.

“Ka marena ahau ki a koe,”

I’m going to marry you.

—————

-Went overboard with this one so… hope y’all liked it!

-Also if it feels rushed towards the end I sincerely apologize I was desperate to just finish this one and give it to y’all already.

-Another thing, I definitely do not speak Māori. So if anyone speaks it out there I deeply apologize if it’s not the right wording 😬😬

- Another, @butchers-girl hope it came out the way you requested, Ik you were constantly asking me how it was going and I appreciated it and I’m sorry I had you waiting this long but.. was definitely taking my time with this one to make it better. So again. Hope you liked this one and can’t wait to publish the rest of your requests! 🫶❤️❤️

- Lastly, MERRY CHRISTMAS PEEPS. LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. ✨❤️

-Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For More Updates!!

————

Word Bank:

Ātaahua: Beautiful.

Aroha ahau ki a koe: I love you.

Aroha ana ahau ki a koe: I love you too.

Toku ao: My World.

Ka marena ahau ki a koe: I’m going to marry you.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 6: Burn Out

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: When things get ahead of you, your powers aren’t the only things to spill over; some truth is ready to breach the surface.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, minor injuries, self-doubt, over-training, loss of control and... awkwardness

a/n: this could have been two chapters, and I did think about it, but fuck it, you guys deserve a nice hefty update! this just means there's a fair bit of development ahead...

“At least Namjoon didn’t blow out any of the lightbulbs. Those are a nightmare to replace.”

Jimin smiled weakly when you didn’t respond to his joke. His worried gaze travelled to V, who stood behind you. He shrugged.

With a sigh, Jimin sat back. You hadn’t looked him in the eye as he checked your wounds, too caught up thinking. About the ways Jungkook was stronger than you. The ways you messed up. If only you had more stamina, if only you could shoot quicker, use more power.

The fight replayed in your head, displaying all the moments you could have responded better.

Was Jungkook right? Were you anywhere near ready to go out there?

“All done.”

You blinked, finding Jimin staring back at you. How long had he been waiting?

“Oh. Thanks,” you tried your best to muster a smile.

Sending you a smile in return, he stood up, placing the first aid box into the cupboard.

“It’s alright. At least you got out relatively unscathed,” he said, “just some bruises, a couple of singes here and there.”

He winced again at the sight of the faint bruising on your neck. Though he wished he could say this wasn’t like the Jungkook he knew, he would be lying.

Jungkook hurt people all the time: all of them did. But here, at home, he was usually at ease with their little family. After everything he had been through, however, Jimin knew very well how short his youngest brother’s fuse could be.

A quiet click announced the newcomer as Hobi poked his head round the bathroom door.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

It fell a little awkwardly in the space. Nothing was alright after tensions had boiled over so violently just half an hour ago, and you all knew it. Still, you gave him a nod.

Slipping into the room, Hope leaned against the counter, dodging out of the way as Jimin threw a few band-aid wrappers in the bin.

“Sorry about Jungkook,” Hope began, “he… he’s a bit protective. But we thought it would get better. It should never have got this far.

“You can do whatever you want today, get food and watch movies. I should think Kook will be training for quite a while.”

The way he said that left no doubt as to what the younger was actually doing. Images from his rage workout the other day invaded your head. Good, as long as he was away from you.

Tugging your hoodie back on to cover the bruises you had acquired, you agreed and followed the others to the living room. Soon taking up residency on the couch, you didn’t intend on moving anywhere soon.

Thankfully, the others didn’t expect you to either. Nor did they push you for conversation when you were so evidently staying quiet, and instead they put a film on and chatted around you.

You didn’t see Jungkook that whole day.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t lingering in your mind, though. At the very least, the slight discomfort from the bruises he had given you served as a reminder of everything that had transpired. But your frustration fluctuated between him and yourself.

If Jungkook’s behaviour could be excused as protective, you were going to need a lot more explanation than that. What reason had you given him to hate you so much?

He hadn’t given you the chance to do anything but fail since you got there, so how could you be expected to trust him?

But while you wanted him to see that you could be trusted, you started to doubt that yourself. Maybe you were trying to help the boys by joining them, but as much as you wanted to deny it, Jungkook had proved that you were weak.

For now, you didn’t want to go near him, so you used that as your excuse for staying put all day, letting the household go about its day around you. But steadily, your mind filled with all the things you needed to work on. You had to patch up the gaps where your powers lacked, and you weren’t going to rely on Jungkook to do it anymore.

Maybe if you proved yourself, they would want you after all? Besides showing your lack of bond with Jungkook, today had surely showed Namjoon that you weren’t up to the task.

That was why he had stood you down.

Which was why you found yourself alone in a training room a few days later.

Since that day, you hadn’t trained. For one thing, your trainer had cemented his place as your mortal enemy, so you had no one to practise your powers with, since the others were all preparing for other things.

As for physical training, you thought they would at least let you do that. But they insisted you needed to rest for a couple more days.

You didn’t protest too much, but you knew this was how it would begin. This was their excuse to stop you training. They had given up on you, thinking you weren’t good enough to join them.

You were going to show them, Jungkook above all.

Now they were away on a mission, Jungkook nowhere to be found, leaving you the opportunity at last.

With the way the last outing had gone, they had switched plans. Now, instead of waiting around for Bolt to strike, they were beginning to relocate their allies, moving important weapons and things to more secure locations, while feeding Bolt’s informants the impression that the vacated premises were still operational. They hoped it would buy some time so they could formulate more of a plan to combat Bolt, without him gaining more power in the meantime.

Of course, Jungkook was still seething. He had made himself scarce the moment the others left, no doubt wanting to avoid spending any time with you.

You weren’t complaining.

Breathing deeply, you assessed the targets you had set up. A smile graced your face. The last time you had trained alone, you had accomplished a lot. Maybe you would try lifting objects again.

But first, you had to work on your speed. That was the main weaknesses Jungkook had highlighted. You weren’t able to keep up with him, and you had to change that.

Rolling out your stiff shoulders, wincing for a moment when it twinged the last remnants of your bruises, you raised an arm.

Your power felt a little rusty as it burst from your palm. Gritting your teeth against the slight tingle of pain, you cut it off and fired again. After a few tries, it felt pretty much normal. You weren’t going to wait any longer.

Lifting both arms now, you alternated your fire, turning in the space as you tried to hit each target. You hit them all, bolstering your confidence as you took a breather and went again. You may have hit them all, but you wanted to be faster.

This time, you didn’t even wait for one bolt to die away before you fired the next one. Focussing on short, sharp bursts, you let your powers pulse through the air.

The rattle and clash of metal filled the space as you shook each target in turn.

You made it around the room again, finding a rhythm, but this time you didn’t stop. Bolt wouldn’t stop if he was attacking you; Jungkook hadn’t. You had to push through.

So when you approached the familiar feeling of your powers slipping, you simply pushed through. You maintained your speed, barely able to keep up with the pace you had set. It was like running while the ground was slipping from under you, but you stayed standing and on your toes, enjoying the exhilaration of the electricity flowing through you.

You felt its power, hot and fierce in your chest, revelling in your ability to control it.

Then, one bolt sputtered and died. You picked it up again in a split second as you fired the next lightning into the space, but it scared you. Picturing the onslaught of gold from the other day, you knew that could cost you dearly in a fight.

So while your powers protested, you pressed on. Now, you had to force out each beam of light, but you weren’t about to stop. You had to improve. You had to succeed.

You didn’t notice when the heat of your powers became unpleasant. That burning sensation hadn’t invaded you for so long, but suddenly it was overwhelming, crashing down on you.

Gasping at the sharp pain, you staggered for a moment, not wanting to stop.

You raised your arm again. This would not defeat you. You had to push through.

Nothing came.

You searched for the familiar feeling to unleash your power, but instead you felt a tangle in your chest, a sparking ball of electricity that hissed at you like a wild animal.

Not now…

A stabbing pain lanced through your chest, blue suddenly erupting into the air. But this time it wasn’t you. Your power clawed its way down your arm, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

Biting down on a pained cry, you looked around in fear at the empty training room.

Though panicked, you knew you had to control it. You had pushed just a little too far, you only needed to reign it in again.

But as you closed your eyes, trying to find the centre of your power, shut it off like you were used to, more blasts leapt from that chasm in your chest. You battled to close it down, but it had power over you now.

Blue filled the space, colliding with the walls, clattering against targets.

Your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the floor. Now, you were unable to control it as you cried out, each release of your power coming with its own wave of pain. You thought you had left this unbearable heat behind, but now it seared through your body with a vengeance as your powers ran rampant.

Control it, control it-

But you couldn’t find space to breathe, let alone to calm your powers. Your arms shook, a tear breaking free from your eye as you gasped.

What had you done?

In your vision, blurry with pained tears and cut up by streaks of luminescent blue, something moved.

Though you lay panting on the floor, you squinted towards it. It was a person.

Were the others back? Your frazzled mind barely had time to wonder this, before the most pressing issue asserted itself again.

Wincing and curling in on yourself as another shot of electricity forced its way from you, you called out. Your voice was raw and shaking, but you had to protect them.

“Don’t come near! I’ll- I might hurt you!”

You knew your voice was thick with tears, but surely they could understand you? Why were they coming closer?

At the same time, both a yelp of pain and a lightning bolt escaped you. Your eyes widened; the figure was directly in its path.

A flash of gold.

The figure ran closer.

Despite your state, you had enough presence of mind to feel your cheeks burning as Jungkook came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes. For a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed uselessly.

Then, another bolt. And another.

As they cut through the room, leaving behind their signature of burning pain, the world tilted. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jungkook forgotten as the sizzling sting of your powers took up your thoughts.

You wanted it to stop.

“Control it.”

The instruction was muttered in your ear, closer than you expected. The next moment, a weight shifted against your back, pulling you to sit upright and against something. Someone.

Still heaving for air, you shook your head.

“I- I c-can’t!”

Another flash of blue, another flash of pain.

The arm that was looped around you squeezed tighter.

“You have to. Control it.”

And then a hand was placed against your back, steady and firm compared to your own body. It nestled between your shoulder blades.

The next thing you knew, a warm sensation bloomed there. But not uncomfortable, like your own rebelling powers. It bled through you, enveloping the mess that your powers had become. Your eyes slid closed, basking in the relief from the searing pain.

You could feel your powers, a blue weight sitting in your chest. You couldn’t see them, of course, but you had always felt them to be blue – not that you had realised. Not until now, at least, because the calming light that surrounded your power felt startlingly gold in comparison.

After a moment, you were collected enough to take control. With the aid of soothing gold containing your power, you were able to breathe deeply, closing off the electricity as you had done that first time in Namjoon’s office.

The gold faded.

Still, the hand on your back lingered, remaining steady.

“Okay?”

It was only now that the weight of this situation hit you. Jungkook had had to rescue you. From your own powers, no less.

You simply nodded, not trusting words to form.

At your confirmation, his hand finally left you. He had been sitting behind you, supporting you, but now he moved away. You would deny that you missed it.

But he only shifted around to your side, sliding an arm under your own.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, but there wasn’t much bite behind it.

Shaking his head, he muttered a curse as he helped lift you from the ground.

“What were you thinking?”

Again, the usual venom was missing from his voice. You kept your eyes down, not responding.

Huffing a little, he turned towards to the door. And paused.

“Can you get upstairs?”

Chewing on your lip, you kept your eyes fixed on your mug. You found the blanket you were wrapped in very interesting all of a sudden, fiddling and tugging at it with your free hand.

It was quiet.

It had been quiet for a while now, but neither of you were particularly inclined to change that.

Jungkook sat across from you, stiff and upright in his seat while you were huddled inside a blanket. He had sort of thrown it at you earlier. He hadn’t given you a second glance, instructing you rather coldly to sit, but it had to be the closest thing to affection he had ever shown you.

He was also holding a mug of tea. Perhaps it was just for show; he hadn’t lifted it once.

In a moment of weakness, your eyes darted up. You instantly regretted it, as you found his gaze already trained on you, and you both hurriedly averted your eyes again.

Just for something to do, you took a sip of tea, the slurp painfully audible in the silence. Your hand still shook a little when you lifted the mug.

Lowering it slowly, you chewed on your cheek.

“Thanks.”

You blurted it out without much consideration, the silence finally becoming too much for you.

Unfortunately, the quiet hung around a bit longer. Warily raising your eyes again, you watched Jungkook for a reaction.

His eyes were avoiding you, looking instead at a blank spot on the wall.

Then he sucked in a breath, leaning forwards to deposit his still-full mug on the coffee table.

“So do you want to tell me what you were doing?”

Finally his eyes turned to you, leaving you breathless. Your shame over what happened made words stick in your throat, but you knew you would have to explain.

Tearing your gaze from his to glare at your mug again, you felt your cheeks heating up. But you forced yourself to talk.

“You… you were right the other day. I’m not strong enough, or fast enough. I was trying to work on that – on my speed. I thought if I pushed myself, it might help. But I… I just lost control.”

Letting out a breath when you finished speaking, you looked up hesitantly. A light frown was on Jungkook’s face as he assessed you. He was thinking a little too hard for your liking.

He sat back.

“You remind me of Bolt.”

If you were still drinking, you would have choked. Your eyes widened, not knowing how to respond to that. In your search for words, all you could manage was an indignant but half-hearted excuse me?

A smirk quirked the corner of Jungkook’s mouth.

“You’re so pig-headed,” he began, “you treat your powers like some sort of game and pretend you’re good at everything…”

You simply stared, disbelieving. Was he seriously saying this to your face?

“And when you want something, you decide you’re getting it–” he eyed you before adding “–not to mention all the blue shit.”

He gestured in the general direction of all of you. You gaped.

But then he dropped his gaze, sighing.

“I… wanted to knock you down. You’re way too good at everything. You remind me of Bolt because he’s indestructible. Or it seems that way.”

Finally managing to scoff at his words, you shook your head incredulously.

“So now you think I’m good enough?”

“I didn’t want you going out there, okay?” he snapped, “I don’t trust you.”

“Just because my powers look like Bolt’s? Is that it? I never asked for this-”

“I know.”

Jungkook’s voice was softer now, startling your rant to a halt. His hands were clasped, elbows resting on his knees. And he wouldn’t quite look you in the eye.

“You’re not like Bolt. He’s the one that hurt you. I just couldn’t separate the image of you from him, what with you being so… obnoxious, and determined.”

He paused. Sighed.

“And I lied, okay?” his voice was quiet, “you’re fine. Your speed is good, you could pretty much keep up with me, and that’s saying something. I thought you’d know better.”

A frown creased your brows together. Now you were confused.

Looking up once again, he met your eyes.

“You shouldn’t push your powers, surely the others told you that? They can reach their limit, and I’m fairly sure yours did when we fought. Today was too soon, you shouldn’t have worn them out like that. You won’t be able to use them for a while. Not like that, anyway.”

“Like what?”

“Fast. You overwhelmed them, it might take a bit to build up your speed again.”

You swallowed, not wanting to believe his words.

“Or, you just want me out of training-” you bit back, but he cut you off.

“Oh, I couldn’t care less,” he sniggered, “go ahead and burn out your powers for all I care. I’m just telling you.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that. You simply tugged your blanket a little tighter around your shoulders.

“Turns out you’re human just like the rest of us.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? You couldn’t really tell.

After a moment holding his gaze, you went back to your tea. The two of you seemed to agree on one thing at least, and that was avoiding each other’s eyes as the silence stretched on.

Even once your mug was emptied, you fidgeted with it, letting your fingers slide around the handle for something to do. Jungkook’s words turned over in your head. It was probably the closest he had ever come to giving you actual advice. Perhaps you should take it, give your powers a rest for a short while.

It surprised you that Jungkook hadn’t yet left. He looked remarkably awkward on the other couch, refusing to relax into the seat but sitting ramrod straight on the edge instead, insisting for some reason on staying there.

Never before had he voluntarily endured your presence for this long.

He seemed to notice you sizing him up. He turned his gaze to find you watching him with your head tilted. And somehow, he too looked hesitant, far from the confidence you usually saw in him.

You swallowed, but didn’t look away.

“Don’t tell the others?”

Your voice was quiet but clear in the space. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re really determined to join us, aren’t you?”

With a sigh, your expression softened. You finally looked away, picking absently at your blanket while you replied.

“I agree with what you guys are doing. Bolt tried to kill me, all because I was just… there, at the wrong time. I didn’t matter to him. That doesn’t seem like someone who cares about protecting people. So I don’t want him to get whatever he wants with those weapons he’s collecting.”

Expecting the usual argument about you being of no use, you kept your eyes stubbornly down. But Jungkook was quiet.

If you looked up, you would have seen him blinking at you. Curious, almost.

But you never did, not until his expression clouded over again and he made to speak.

“And if the others knew you did something this stupid, they’d keep you away from the action even longer.”

You rolled your eyes, but had to admit that Jungkook wasn’t wrong.

“Pretty much,” you conceded, “and I do want this. It finally feels like I have a purpose.”

You had never expected to be so blisteringly honest with Jungkook, but when you laid beseeching eyes on him, you knew you had got through somehow.

Seemingly displeased with his own decision, his mouth straightened into a line.

“Fine. I won’t tell them. But you better not do it again, you know I’ll get the blame as well.”

You weren’t sure if that was entirely true, but if Jungkook wanted to make that his reason for helping you out, then so be it.

At last, it seemed he had reached his limit with you. He stood abruptly, casting one more glance at you, and strode away. Watching his retreating form, you sunk further into the sofa. A subtle smile took up residence on your face.

You hadn’t even put the tv on. Silence filled the apartment and you stared up at the ceiling from your position on the sofa.

Since you and Jungkook talked a few days ago, he had, surprisingly, kept his word. Around the others he stoically ignored you as normal, but also diligently kept his mouth shut about your little accident.

You suspected he also didn’t want to admit to helping you. But whatever kept him quiet worked for you.

It was true that he glanced over at you more often despite his continued frosty attitude towards you. Or perhaps you were imagining that? He was just glaring at you like always – only, you began to read into it too much. Now you two shared a secret, in a sense, it meant that every time his eyes locked with yours they seemed to hold more significance.

However, you had to remind yourself nothing had changed. The two of you were still only here because you were stuck together on Namjoon’s orders. Which was the same reason Jungkook had been the one to help you before.

No, nothing had changed.

Turning your head, you let your cheek fall against the cushion as you hesitantly gazed at the tv. Maybe you should put it on, just to fill the silence?

The lack of noise in the house served as proof that Jungkook wanted as little to do with you as ever. The moment the boys were out, he made himself scarce.

At least you had been permitted to learn more about what exactly they were doing when they went out. They were leaving the house more and more frequently, and for longer stretches of time. Given Bolt’s movements, and his startling power at their last encounter (due to the weapons he had stolen from Kuyang), the boys were launching a counter-operation.

If they couldn’t defend their allies from a direct attack, they had to bide their time until they could build an attack strategy.

So for now, they were relocating important developers to throw Bolt off. Stop him before he could gain even more power; before he became too much of a match for them.

Jin seemed fairly confident that they had tracked Bolt’s sources well enough to feed him misinformation to keep him unaware of their movements. The only risk now lay in the transportation of what you could only assume were deadly weapons through the city.

Standing on the kitchen counter was a small black receiver. You could turn it on if you wanted, hear what was happening.

You were contemplating it when something pulled at your thoughts. Your focus frayed, distracted by that incomprehensible feeling that there was someone behind you.

Flipping over on the sofa, you found Jungkook leaning against the wall. His arms were folded, but there was no glare entrenched on his face. Startled, you eyed his damp hair, the oversized black shirt hanging from his shoulders.

Clearly he had just come from a shower, so why wasn’t he going to train?

The absence of a scowl was really throwing you off. He didn’t look totally comfortable, expression tight and slightly expectant, but what did he want with you?

You raised your eyebrows in question.

He blinked at you, then his eyes slid away from your face, looking somewhere over your head and through to the kitchen.

“Training,” he said.

You continued to stare, but he just as stubbornly avoided your eyes.

After another moment, you huffed and sat up.

“Training?” you echoed.

“We’re going to training.”

“…we?”

“You heard me.”

His response was dry. Already, he was pushing away from the wall and turning his back on you, leaving you little choice but to follow.

Leaving the couch and hurrying after him, you made it to his side on the stairs.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my powers? After…”

“Not for speed,” he corrected you, eyes fixed ahead.

A frown furrowed your brow as you reached the training space. Today, you remained in the main, largest room. There was no one around and clearly Jungkook didn’t have want of the targets you normally used, as he stopped right in the middle and turned to you.

His brows were pinched, clearly a little hesitant about this. You noticed the way his teeth pulled slightly at his lower lip.

“Power,” he said.

You stared. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he elaborated.

“Apart from speed, that’s what you need to work on. You need to connect with your powers, feel like the light is an extension of you. Since you can’t work on your agility, it’s time to think about force.”

Nodding, you felt your confidence raise a little. When you had trained by yourself before, you had hit upon that exact feeling he described, an almost physical connection that let you lift the target.

Plus, using a little force would be more than welcome, with the pent up tension you had felt since your last disastrous practice.

Jungkook took your confirmation and stepped forwards into line with you, holding your gaze. He held his arms slightly away from his body, palms facing you.

“Summon your powers and push against me,” he instructed.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and prepare to use your powers. It had been a while. You tried to hide your slight wince when you searched for the powers only to find a scorching, tangled mess where they usually flowed from, like someone had knotted barbed wire there.

Swallowing, you let your eyes slide shut for a moment. It was as if your power was hissing at you, an animal you had to coax from hiding.

But coax it you did, the first slight tug leading them to easily unravel until the electricity flowed through your veins again. Beside a slight tremor in the flow of blue light you released, it seemed fairly normal.

Surely Jungkook wouldn’t approve of the clumsiness with which you handled your powers, though? But when you looked up, he only appeared focussed.

With a small nod as your powers shot through the air, his eyes clouded with gold and his own luminous lightning welled in his hands.

He didn’t fire a strong bolt to match yours. It appeared that he held a small golden fountain in each hand, bubbling gently, just enough to dispel your blue electricity before it could strike his palms.

Your eyes connected.

It was curious, how Jungkook’s eyes looked so much less deadly when they were literally glowing with power. As you held his gaze, you felt no urge to look away. Instead, his focus, gentle and firm at the same time, affirmed you.

Taking a breath, you continued to let your powers flow freely.

“Concentrate on your powers,” he spoke in a low voice, “feel them moving through you. Then follow that feeling outwards, feel where they connect with me.”

Taking in his words with a determined nod, you searched within you for the feeling he spoke of.

This time, you didn’t close your eyes. You were already familiar with the taste of your power in your veins, and found it with little effort.

But you stared into those gold eyes as you searched for him, the sight of them making it easier to find the corresponding sensation. Colliding with your power, you were surprised to stumble across a warmth pulsing against them. You hadn’t even realised you had followed the flow of your powers outside your fingertips; the feeling hadn’t altered as far as you could tell.

Sure enough, however, there was Jungkook – it was undeniable. Inexplicably, the intensity of his eyes felt the exact same as the fiery power rushing to meet your own lightning.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s lips twitched into a smirk.

“You can feel it, right?”

Now you had found it, it was easy to hold onto the sensation of his powers as they met your own.

Elated, you exhaled with a smile. His grew too.

“I’m going to push back now,” he said, “keep the connection. It’ll be like arm wrestling, only with our powers.”

You knew you should have felt a little sceptical about that. If it was anything like arm wrestling, Jungkook would be able to topple you in a second. He had been training much longer than you, and was undeniably stronger.

In fact, all you felt was an ignition in your chest, competitiveness flaring up inside you.

Jungkook’s expression shifted into focus. His smirk slipped into a concentrated line.

Where the gold in his eyes had been rippling lazily, it now grew in ferocity, blazing harshly in contrast to the abysses of his dark pupils.

The instant his powers switched, you felt it. No longer a soft warmth, they sent a jolt through you as they connected in earnest, the threads of your electricity fusing together like wires and throwing out a ball of sparks.

The molten light warred in the air between you, your eyes no doubt as vivid as Jungkook’s as you allowed more power through your palms to match his force.

To your surprise, they complied instantly. It seemed your powers were enjoying being let out like this, having lashed out the last time when you had stubbornly forced them to stop and start. With the growing power flowing from you, their connection with Jungkook strengthened as well. You could sense a distinctly gold force clashing with your powers.

Even though you could see the point where your powers converged, the feeling allowed you to notice every minute crackle of electricity, every pulse of Jungkook’s lightning.

Just like before, when you had lifted the target, your powers felt much more than just a fleeting rush of sparks. They formed a bridge outwards from your body, reaching beyond.

You felt strong.

And if Jungkook wanted to wrestle, you weren’t going to go down easily.

Channelling yet more power outwards, you pushed hard against his gold powers where they met your own.

For a moment, you succeeded in subduing the opposing force. Sparks flew again, Jungkook staggering back a step as the gold light retreated from your advance, blue dominating the bolt of energy that connected you two.

Jungkook smiled.

The next moment, it became clear he had been waiting for you to get used to the feeling and make a move. But you had no time to be touched by his newfound patience as you found yourself battling against a renewed burst of pressure from his end.

Raising your arms to be level with your shoulders, aiming at him, you gritted your teeth and stubbornly weathered the temptation to step back as his powers shoved against yours.

Now both of you were using all your energy, the connection was more vivid than before. You could sense every vein of the electricity, his as well as yours. Finding strength from somewhere, you resisted his onslaught and managed to take a step forwards.

Your tussle continued, fire against fire, both of you matching the other’s power but advancing until you were practically toe to toe.

Outstretched, slightly above your head, your hands were level, vibrant light still connecting them although his palm was just inches from yours. A waterfall of blue and gold sparks fell between your faces while you stared at each other with blazing eyes. Your breathing was heavy, trying to keep up with his relentless power, but Jungkook was also panting, damp hair falling over his eyes.

You were out of breath, but the warm air brushing over your face from Jungkook’s lips assured you that you weren’t the only one.

A sharp, exhilarated smile lit up his mouth. A brow quirked, his words breathless as he spoke.

“Not bad. Hold it…”

Sucking in a breath, you prepared for one last effort. Avoiding Jungkook’s eyes had long left your priority list, and now you were drawn in by the burning gold within them. It was like you were staring at the sun, but you couldn’t look away, not even when their light grew, yet more of his power flowing through you.

His gaze burned just as intently back, eyes trained on your own which were surely lit up blue. A slight crease formed in his brow, perhaps from concentration…

Again, you matched his power even as he overloaded the connection, more and more energy sparking in the air-

His gaze flitted away, the connection cutting abruptly.

For a moment, the brightness of the sparks, and Jungkook’s eyes, left dazzling prints on your vision even as they sputtered from existence. Air rushed in and out of your lungs, the exertion not hitting you until now.

Without the channel to focus your energy, you staggered back from Jungkook, blinking in the relative dimness.

Sensing the strength that had drained from you, you let yourself take another step to sink against the wall behind you. Breathing still heavy, you looked up at Jungkook. Though his chest heaved too, cheeks slightly flushed under his dripping hair, he hadn’t moved an inch.

Only when you met his eyes, which had returned to their regular darkness, did he start, quickly marching away to grab water bottles from the corner of the room.

One flew in your direction. Just about managing to snatch it from the air, you took an eager sip. Now you had had time to catch your breath, a strange silence settled.

“How did it feel?”

Jungkook wasn’t even looking at you. He had made his way to the bottom of the staircase, and now leaned against them, apparently finding the floor very interesting.

Hesitantly, you made your way closer, following a step behind as he started climbing back to the main house.

“Yeah, my powers, they feel… it wasn’t painful,” you replied, “they’re like normal again.”

Jungkook nodded.

“You did good. Still, don’t push it.”

By then, you had reached the top of the stairs. After pausing for a moment, Jungkook awkwardly moved away to the kitchen, while you hung back to have a shower.

The odd tension that had clung to the space between you since training occupied your mind as the water flowed over you, reinvigorating your tired body. In a way, it was just like usual. You and Jungkook had never been comfortable around each other.

But then why did it feel odd now?

The training session had given you a taste of something different. For once, Jungkook hadn’t spent the time trying to antagonise you. Instead, you had a real chance to push yourself.

It was probably the fact that, after so long without using your powers, you simply missed feeling the rush of electricity. No matter if it was also because connecting with Jungkook's powers had felt so thrilling too.

That thought was gone as quickly as the water running over you. Outside the training room at least, you knew where you stood. And that was very, very far from Jungkook.

Which is why you were so perplexed when you reached the kitchen, and didn’t find it empty.

Pausing in the hallway, you honestly considered turning back around and leaving. Trust Jungkook to try and claim the kitchen since you were absent.

But you weren’t going to be deterred. You were hungry.

It was his fault anyway, for training you so hard, so you took a breath and pushed your damp hair behind your shoulder before striding into the space.

At first, you made your best attempt at keeping your chin up, confident while also acting as if you magically couldn’t see Jungkook at all. It was how you usually approached each other. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing that whatever he was making wasn’t going well.

Halfway through throwing your own ingredients onto the counter, you stopped to cast a sceptical eye over the mess he was making. He was making an equally good show of not noticing your presence, and continued throwing in random sauces, not before eyeing them all fairly hesitantly first.

Biting your lip, you shrugged it off and turned your eyes back to your own dinner.

But you could no longer ignore it when he took a taste from his spoon and quite literally recoiled.

Loudly putting your knife down, you sighed in frustration.

“Do you want some help?”

Quickly straightening out his face from the way it had been screwed up from the taste, he blinked around at you. He really did look surprised at your presence.

You rolled your eyes, marching over to him and peering into his pan.

“What are you making?”

Folding his arms across his chest, you could hear the pout in his voice as he replied.

“Tteokbokki.”

You stared. At the food, which certainly did not resemble tteokbokki, and then at Jungkook.

“No you’re not.”

“I am! Jin always makes it like this!”

“Maybe when he’s making something for his science experiments,” you scoffed.

Defiant, Jungkook reached for his packet of soft rice cakes, totally ignoring you. You had to lunge across the counter to save them from a grizzly fate in that pan of definitely not tteokbokki.

Deep down, he clearly agreed with you, because he didn’t protest all that much as you forcibly removed the pan from the stove, depositing the whole mess in the bin.

“This is how you’ve been eating?”

Jungkook looked a little startled, his eyes wide for a moment before he managed to resurrect his scowl.

“We ran out of ramen,” he muttered.

You stared at him in disbelief. Had no one taught him to cook?

“What would Jin say?” you huffed, returning to the stove and elbowing him out the way.

Before long, you had your own meal cooking, now with some extra added. After a few moments, Jungkook had skulked away, watching you silently from the table. Once again, you pretended not to pay him any mind.

Two steaming bowls of (actually edible) food eventually made it to the table.

Sitting down opposite him, neither of you began for a moment. Each of you was waiting for the other to do something.

When at last you reached for your chopsticks, the sound was deafening against the strained silence between you.

Perhaps Jungkook was encouraged to see you didn’t drop dead after taking a bite, because he finally started to eat as well. Not that you let yourself look at him beyond the odd brief glance. You kept your attention firmly on the meal, which was actually quite tasty if you did say so yourself.

“Thanks.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes shooting up to stare at Jungkook. He stopped mid-bite, big eyes returning your bewildered gaze as if he had no idea who had spoken.

You blinked. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze again, picking at your food.

“No problem.”

“It’s nearly as good as Jin’s,” he drawled next.

Disbelieving, you swallowed your next bite and raised your eyebrows.

“Are you seriously trying to come for me after I gave you food?”

“That’s a compliment!” he defended.

“Sure.”

“Fine,” he huffed, attacking his food a bit more aggressively.

Taking a breath, you chewed your lip. Jungkook took a bite with more force than strictly necessary, brows furrowed. Maybe he had really meant it in a nice way?

You had trouble believing that, somehow.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than yours would have been,” you grumbled, then paused. “but… I suppose Jin is a very good chef.”

For a moment, Jungkook didn’t reply. But he finished chewing and set his chopsticks down a bit more gently.

“Why would I have to practise cooking when he’s always here to do it?” he murmured.

Deciding for once to take the opportunity to ease the situation, you smiled.

“I don’t blame you.”

Both of you allowed a temporary ceasefire to settle as you cleared your plates. You didn’t miss Jungkook’s glance towards the little black receiver standing on the table.

With the frequency of operations at the moment, it was clear Namjoon classed the whole situation with Bolt as an emergency. Jungkook hadn’t been wrong – Jin was usually there, or one of the others, to cook. As much as it still surprised you that he was so clueless, you saw that prying was going to get you nowhere.

He wasn’t the only one that missed the others, though. Or hoped they were okay.

You leaned over and turned the receiver on.

Thank you for reading! I really mean it, it's wonderful now I'm finally sharing this story to hear what you guys think as we go through it!! I appreciate every last one of you who comments💜💜

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[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 2

Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words: 7k

Masterlist

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Monday, October 5th, 6:00 PM - Ona's Room

I groan in displeasure upon hearing a door slam. I take off my headphones, which are no longer playing music. I realize I’ve managed to fall asleep again, and someone has just woken me up. How do I sleep so much? I sometimes wonder. A girl with perfect brown hair has just entered the room. I guess she’s the roommate I was told about.

-  "Oh, sorry if I woke you," she says. "I didn't know you were already here! You're the new one, right?"

-  "Hmm." I make the effort to get up after stretching well. This girl isn't to blame for my bad mood, so I’ll try to be nice for our first meeting. She gives me a smile that shows her perfectly aligned white teeth. I briefly look her over. She seems nice, that's something. She’s not a bimbo, and she’s rather pretty. Probably a girl who turns many heads.

-  « Alexia Putellas" she introduces herself, holding out her hand.

-  « Ona Batlle" I reply, shaking it.

-  "They gave me your stuff," she informs me.

-  "Really?" I look at the clothes I’ve just received, frowning. There are different outfits, each given in triple copies. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is... I look at her to be sure. She’s wearing exactly one of the outfits I’m holding.

-  "No way am I wearing this."

-  "Sorry," she grimaces. "It's in the rules. You'll get used to it quickly, you'll see."

-  "I don't think so, no. I don’t plan on staying."

-  "Oh... I see." I feel like she’s mocking me. She’s immediately less friendly than I thought. I prefer not to comment on her attitude so we don’t start off on the wrong foot. Instead, I focus on what I have in my hands. I observe the set with a look of disgust. Uniforms, seriously! That’s not going to work for me. They’re all in khaki, black, or gray. As dull as this place. It seems like they do everything to demoralize us.

-  "Did they tell you that you have a supervisor or something like that?"

-  "I think so, yes. They mentioned something like that."

-  "Oh, and do you know the person’s name?"

-  "No, they didn't tell me anything," I say, shrugging.

-  "You'll find out tomorrow, I guess. Well, I was going to see some friends before dinner. Do you want to come with me? I'll introduce you."

- "Why not, yes," I reply after hesitating.

It’s not necessarily a good idea, but I’m here now. Might as well try to fit in until I leave. I don’t plan on staying alone either, and making new friends shouldn’t be a bad thing. I just need to be pleasant, but that might be complicated given my mood. Alexia smiles broadly, showing her pleasure. I put the uniforms she brought me into my wardrobe. If there’s one thing I can't stand, it’s people touching my stuff. Thanks to that, I’ve gotten used to putting everything away instantly. Alexia patiently waits for me to finish before we go downstairs. She talks to me about a room I don’t know yet. We reach the ground floor. I thought we’d go outside, but she leads me to an old wooden double door to the left of the stairs. I hadn’t even noticed it when I arrived, which shows how much attention I paid. I was probably too busy being angry with my mother.

-  "Here we are. This is the students’ common room."

-  "The students’ common room?" I repeat.

-  "Yeah, it’s a large break room where we can do whatever we want during our free time."

-  "I thought it was a prison and we had to go back to our rooms..."

-  "Oh no," she giggles. "You’ll see, it’s not that bad in the end. Just stay out of trouble and they leave us alone."

-  "Hmm..." She opens the wooden door, which seems heavy and rusty given how it creaks. It’s impossible to enter unnoticed.

She gives me yet another smile before entering the room first. I discover a large furnished room. Alexia is probably right. The camp might not be as terrible as it looks. There’s a TV, foosball tables, sofas, tables... Basically, a place to hang out. I think I’m going to like this place. I’m surprised people don’t care about our arrival. I expected to be the center of attention for being the new one arriving in the middle of the year, but apparently not. Everyone continues their activities as if nothing happened. There are bursts of laughter, conversations coming from everywhere, and even people with their noses in their books. I don’t know how they can study in this atmosphere. It’s impossible for me. I need calm to concentrate. The room must be well insulated because I didn’t hear anything from the outside. I come back to reality when Alexia stops in front of already occupied sofas. These must be the friends she talked about. The sofas are arranged facing each other with a small table serving as a footrest. I feel uneasy imagining that this group must have known each other for years.

-  "Hola chicas ! I brought some company!"

-  "Hi," I say timidly.

-  "Hey! You must be the new one? Alba, Alexia’s sister. »

OK, that’s clear. I didn’t expect such a warm welcome. They don’t seem at all bothered to see me, on the contrary. Irene smiles just as much as her sister, it seems. I stop analyzing and give a small smile back, introducing myself. I turn to the other two, who seem just as nice at first glance. According to Alexia, they are two inseparable best friends. Their names are Patri Guijarro and Claudia Pina. I learn that the group isn’t complete and that two more people will join us for dinner. I hope they’ll be as nice as these guys. Alexia sits next to her sister on the couch and pats the last spot beside her. I join her, and what I feared quickly happens. I’m subjected to a real interrogation about my city, my age, my class, and more. I answer vaguely to the last questions that became too personal. I don’t like revealing myself. They’ll have to be content with my answers. I’m not very brave, especially with strangers. They seem to understand because they go back to normal conversations. I don’t understand much, but at least they stop asking me questions. Alexia takes the trouble to explain some things so I can follow along a bit. It’s a quarter to six when we head to the cafeteria. We have to walk behind the administration building to get there. The cafeteria is a stone building that has been renovated. It looks like a café with its bay windows and a few tables at the entrance. It’s just a dream scene once you go through the second door. Reality hits with a cafeteria more in line with the school’s image. There are many tables and perfectly aligned chairs. I follow my new friends to the left of the room where a line has formed in front of a large buffet with staff to serve us. It’s early, yet there are already some people. I imitate Alexia by taking a tray and cutlery. She explains the process as we go. It’s similar to the canteen I had in high school, but she seems to enjoy explaining it so much that I don’t dare say anything. When our trays are full, I follow her to a table where two people are already seated. I recognize the principal’s daughter, Lotte, I think. I don’t know the other person, who introduces hermself as Leah Williamson. I sit across from Alexia and the girls quickly join us to start a conversation with the two new people. I’m reassured to see that the atmosphere remains the same as before.

-  "You got caught again Leah, ?" Alba mocks.

-  "Yeah... I got more laps around the field."

-  "That’s what happens when you try to skip out," Alexia laughs.

-  "Laps around the field?"

-  "Oh, yeah! Don’t try to defy the instructors," she warns me. "You’ll regret it quickly!"

-  "Hmm, we’ll see."

-  "Do we have a little rebel here?" Leah comments.

-  "No. I just don’t plan on staying locked up here."

-  "Trust me, I’ve tried everything! There’s no way out," she tells me.

-  "I’m sure," I sigh. This school looks like a prison to me, and Leah, seems to share my opinion. She tells me about all the infractions she's committed. She's the rebel of the group. I finally feel understood by someone. She wants the same thing as I do, and yet she's been here for three years. My dismissal might be more complicated than I hoped. She teaches me a lot by sharing all her crazy ideas for driving the instructors mad. She seems pretty funny. I appreciate that they've integrated me into their group so easily. It's as if I've been with them from the beginning. I even find myself feeling sad when it's time to go back to the room. Alexia is an easy-going girl. I shouldn't have any trouble getting along with her, just like her friends. I hope I won't ruin everything by shutting myself off. I answered many questions tonight, but none about my arrival. It must be a taboo subject because no one mentioned their reasons for being here when it was their turn to talk about themselves. At least I didn't shut down during the evening. I feel better than when I arrived since meeting them. I even continue talking with Alexia on our way back to our room when we discover that we are in the same class. It's good news; at least I won't be alone. She's the only one from the group with me, but it's convenient since we share the same room. I'm sure I'll never get lost at least. It's a bit before ten o'clock when Alexia decides it's time to go to bed. I'm disappointed and far from tired since I slept half the day. I try to change her mind until she mentions the word "curfew." I thought this school couldn't get any worse... That's the last straw. If it were up to me, I'd keep chatting, but Alexia has already turned her back in bed. I resign myself to doing the same, turning off the last light in the room. I try to fall asleep, but it's impossible. I turn countless times in my bed, trying to get there. I feel like the night is going to be long...

Tuesday, October 6; 06:00 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I jump when the alarm goes off. Well, more like the alarm clock. Damn! I thank Joan at this moment for training me to wake up energetically. I grumble and pull the blanket over my head when the daylight blinds me. It wasn't there a second ago. I guess it's the work of my roommate who is shaking me energetically.

"Move your ass, Ona! Or you'll get busted!" "Hmm."

I don't even know what time it is, but it's way too early for my little body, especially since I fell asleep at two in the morning. She gives up on getting me out of bed and starts moving around farther away. As for me, I can't react. I'm so exhausted that my body doesn't want to move. I even curl up to try and get my sleep back, which isn't hard to return.

Tuesday, October 6 ; 06:30 - Ona and Alexia's Room.

"GET UP, BATLLE!"

I groan, sinking into my pillow. What's with that voice? It could have been very pleasant to my ears if she hadn't raised her tone like that. I tighten the blanket against my face. Whoever it is, I just want to fall back asleep one more time, but I doubt they'll let me do that.

"You have three seconds. ONE," she starts counting down. "TWO. THREE."

Go to hell. This thought comes straight from my heart, if only she knew. She'll have to lift me if she wants me to get up. It only took a fraction of a second for me to feel a draft followed by a wet sensation. I scream in surprise as water runs down my face. I inwardly call my unknown assailant every name I can think of, never imagining I could think such things about anyone. I don't have time to reply verbally before the mattress I was lying on is yanked out from under me, sending my body crashing to the floor. She dared! She dared to throw me out of bed to get me up! I never thought that phrase I was thinking would take on a literal meaning. I violently extricate myself from the situation to stand up. Now I'm wide awake and she's going to regret her actions.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" I shout. "WHO SAYS I'M NOT CARDIAC!"

A pair of emerald eyes I wasn't expecting is fixed on me. I had already prepared a long speech to unleash, but I'm frozen. Who is this girl? She looks so young. I have to look away to hide my discomfort. I take the opportunity to analyze the room. Alexia is no longer there, and her bed is perfectly made. I think I'm in deep trouble. Maybe I should have listened to Alexia when she shook me awake. I turn my attention back to the only person present. She took advantage of my distraction to move closer. She looks angry while I am completely lost. I can't seem to organize my thoughts in the face of her imposing presence and unwavering gaze. I back away to escape her, but an obstacle prevents me. I look down to find the mattress she overturned earlier. I come back down from my emotional high, remembering her actions. The witch!

"So you're the new one," she begins in a surprisingly calm voice. "Know that if you were cardiac, you wouldn't be here."

"What do you know?" I retort bluntly. "And who are you anyway?"

"Your supervisor," she states sternly. "Keep defying me like that, and you'll be doing ten laps around the field."

I start to laugh nervously. I dare to look her up and down to muster some courage. Her, my supervisor? This must be a joke! She's barely older than me. They seriously put a young girl like her in charge of me? They really underestimate me. This girl is going to crack first. She'll soon regret having me under her care, given the hard time I plan to give her. I'll never manage to address her formally, and I sense it's these little details that will irritate her. She furrows her brows and yanks my arm with a sharp gesture, forcing me to follow her. I almost trip over the mattress in the process. She opens my wardrobe without any shame while I watch her, unable to move. I hate it when people rummage through my stuff. She glances through until she finds what she's looking for. She grabs a pair of black jogging pants and a gray T-shirt that's half too big for me and thrusts them against my chest. I catch them with a grunt. She continues searching lower this time to pull out the black combat boots brought with my uniforms. She places them on top of the pile with a khaki jacket with a military pattern. It's a really awful outfit. I grimace just looking at it. I look like I'm in the army.

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Yes, you are. It's in the regulations," she retorts coldly. "I'll give you five minutes to get ready. Then you'll make your bed properly."

"Dream on! I'm not a maid."

"And do you think I am?!" she snaps. "We're not at your service, Batlle. Here, I'm the one in charge. I give an order, and you follow it, period. Is that clear? So now you will listen to me."

I stay silent, taken aback by her tone. I didn't expect to be dealing with this kind of character. She's more authoritative than she appears, or maybe I just didn't see it coming. She yanks my arm again to drag me to the bathroom door. I reluctantly step inside. I'm going to have a bruise soon if she keeps holding me so firmly every time.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day," she snaps.

I slam the door in her face as a response and even go so far as to lock it for some peace. It's the only door with a lock. Maybe I'm annoying her, but she's annoying me even more. She splashed me with water, threw me on the floor, and keeps yelling at me. I get my revenge by taking my time getting ready. If she thinks I'm going to let her push me around! I start by fixing the mess the water made on my face, then brush my teeth. I then put on eyeliner and mascara after applying some cream and foundation. I finish with the hideous sports outfit. I mustn't let myself be intimidated, or I'm done for. I want to get out of here, and I will succeed, even if it means driving her crazy. I take a deep breath while looking at myself in the mirror. I smile, realizing I was right. My T-shirt under the military jacket is slightly too big. They're lucky I like large T-shirts; otherwise, I would have made a fuss. Time to face the tyrant now. If I could, I'd stay locked in. She might be a more formidable enemy than I initially thought. I gather my courage and unlock the door, putting my hands in my pockets. It's not my usual style, but I want to show her I don't care to irritate her further. My plan seems to be working judging by her tense expression.

-  Fifteen minutes for that? Seriously?! she scolds me in a bored tone.

-  I can take more time if you want... Shall I go back? I suggest mockingly.

-  No way, I must be dreaming, she mutters. Hurry up and clean up this mess instead of mocking me! Bingo, I've managed to irritate the little brunette. I hold back my laughter seeing her like this. It's simpler than I thought. Her finger points towards my bed. Now that I pay attention, there's a huge mess. My mattress is on the floor next to my wardrobe, while my quilt is on the other side.

-  You did this, and I have to clean it up?

-  As far as I know, you didn't get up. I wouldn't have done anything if you had followed the rules. And there she goes again. Does she only know that word? No one ever told me anything. I wasn't even informed there was a curfew and uniforms. So I'm definitely not going to know this damn rule.

-  Rules, rules, I mutter. You only have that word in your mouth. How am I supposed to know if no one tells me anything about these damn rules?!

-  What do you mean, you don't know anything?

-  No one ever told me the rules here. I just arrived yesterday! She remains stoic at my revelation. She seems to be thinking before running her hand through her hair with a sigh.

-  Fine, we'll deal with this problem later. In the meantime, keep a low profile and stop talking back.

-  I'm not talking back.

-  Yes, you are. You just did, and it won't go without consequence. Now, stop being smart and clean up this mess. I won't repeat myself. She points to my bed again with a stern look that doesn't make me want to listen to her at all. Yet she seemed friendly for a second, wanting to help me. Her threats seem serious, so I resign myself to follow her orders, starting with putting the mattress back. I then deal with the quilt, quickly making my bed to get rid of her.

-  There. Happy now?

-  No. She messes up my bed with a brusque gesture. I can't believe it. She must be messing with me; it can't be otherwise.

- Why did you do that? What's your problem?! I made your damn bed!

- Firstly, as far as I know, it's your bed. Secondly, I told you to make it square, and it was far from it. Thirdly, I've already told you to stop talking back, and especially, don't address me informally! Now do it again.

She doesn't bat an eye. She has incredibly controlled coldness. I regret listening to her. Now she knows she can do it again. I've lost this first battle, but my next attack will be even more terrible. For now, I show her my obedience and remake the bed. It doesn't look much different from before. I just tried to make the quilt neater by smoothing it out. I stand up to show her I'm done. She doesn't even bother to examine it before messing it up again.

-  No, stop! It was fine!

-  No, I said square. You will redo it until you get it right.

-  Damn it! I don't even know what a square bed is!

-  That's enough. I've warned you enough. You will immediately tone it down, or things will go very badly between us! A palpable tension arises. She is very intimidating in her stance and severe expressions. I promised myself I would stand up to her, so I must do everything not to look away. I'm supposed to be the queen of the staring contest, but it's hard to hold out against her.

-  Do it again, Batlle, she orders.

-  But I'm telling you I can't do it! I get angry. If it's just for you to ruin my work again, it's out of the question!

-  Then all you need to do is ask. I remain incredulous. I expected a sharp retort. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. Is she mocking me? No way I'm asking her for help! I've never asked anyone for anything, and I'm not starting with her. I've always been free to do as I please. I'm not used to being given orders, let alone asking for help. I quickly had to learn to manage on my own. I bite my cheek as I look at the quilt on the floor. This time it's different. I have no choice but to ask. I don't know how to do it, and she has remarkable composure and patience. She will certainly not be the first to give up. My throat tightens just thinking about the words I'm going to have to say to her.

-  Help me...

-  Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? she reformulates.

-  Can you teach me how to make a square bed, please? I repeat.

-  Come here, she says. I approach her to reach the foot of the bed.

- Redo it. I look at her incredulously. She rolls her eyes at my immobility.

- Come on, do it. I'll guide you. Understanding better, I comply. She takes her time explaining each fold to make and corrects me when I'm wrong. Finally, I realize it's not that complicated. It's just going to be annoying to have to

do it every morning as she just announced. I stand up and proudly observe my work when I'm done. It was short-lived as she undoes it again without hesitation. My blood boils quickly.

-  You had no right! It was just how you wanted it!

-  I want you to do it all by yourself, she says calmly. I just told you you'll have to do it every morning, so I want to make sure you can do it without my help. It's by doing it again that you learn, right? I roll my eyes. At least she didn't yell at me this time. I control myself and redo my bed the same way. I succeeded, but it's not as perfect as before. I look at her, waiting for her opinion. She doesn't seem angry or anything.

- There you go. I sigh in relief. Phew! I would have been very upset if she had undone it again.

-  Can I go eat now?

-  You should have gotten up in time for that. The service time is over.

-  You're not going to do this to me? It's not my fault I barely slept last night! Breakfast is sacred; you can't take it away from me!

-  I will, believe me. Think about it tomorrow morning; it might motivate you to get up. In the meantime, I have other plans for you anyway.

-  Oh yeah...? I ask, uncertain.

-  Yes. You and I won't be parting ways this morning.

-  Aren't I supposed to go to class?

-  I'm excusing you. I'm your supervisor, which means I have full authority over you. If I decide you're not going to class, that's my prerogative.

-  Basically, you're my hierarchical priority.

-  Exactly. Me and, of course, the principal. Other instructors are instructed to send you to me in case of any issues with you. I'm going to be the person you'll spend the most time with in the coming days.

-  What luck, I say ironically.

-  I think so too. Follow me now, we're going out. I miss classes, what more could I ask for? I'm wary of her intentions. I don't know her yet, but I've already seen her capabilities, and she's not one to joke around. I follow her through the hallways and stairs. She seems to know exactly where we're going. I understand the need for the jacket once outside. It's much colder than in Miami. I must not be used to it because my supervisor doesn't seem bothered by the weather. Her accent doesn't come from here, though. We're heading away from the dorms. I slow down when I realize her intentions at the sight of the gymnasium and sports fields. I don't think and turn around behind her back. I thought I could sneak away until a firm hand catches me in my tracks. I instinctively close my eyes at the contact. Damn! I should have left when I had

the chance! I try to struggle, but it's no use. She increases the pressure on my arm and drags me with her by force.

-  You won't escape, Batlle.

-  Damn it! I did everything you asked! She stops suddenly, making me bump into her before she turns around. I look up to meet her eyes. Bad idea... She scares me even more than before. I can't step back more than a step due to her grip.

-  Yes, you did, but you mostly talked back and addressed me informally. I'm not your friend, okay? I warned you to stop, and you didn't listen.

-  I won't do it again...

-  Oh no, that's too easy! We both know you'll do it again. If I punish you, it's so you'll think twice next time.

-  I promise I won't do it again! I say in a too confident tone.

-  And yet you're continuing, she raises an eyebrow. I want to retort, but I have no argument. I'm talking back and addressing her informally. Damn, she annoys me! It's not my fault she's young and beautiful! I would have preferred to deal with someone ugly and old. At least I wouldn't have trouble seeing her as my supervisor.

-  Okay, the informal address is going to be tough, but-

-  But what? she cuts me off. You're breaking both things I just told you. Not only are you addressing me informally, but you're also talking back and now negotiating?

-  Sorry, I grumble, powerless.

-  When I tell you to do something, you do it and stay quiet, period. Do we agree?

-  I guess, since I have no choice.

-  Fine. She continues on her way, still dragging me along. If it were up to me, I would break free, but I'm not sure she would appreciate that. At least she's loosened her grip. Just enough that I can't escape. She must be the devil incarnate to be ready to do what she's about to do! She makes me lose all my means and defenses. She's trying to unsettle me with her harsh, angry voice. It will be difficult to contradict her because her tactic is working. She will eat me alive and win if I let her. This wasn't at all in my plans. All I want is to get out of here. I fully intend to do so, with or without her on my back. She won't stop me from going home. We're approaching the grassy field. Doesn't she know it's cold? She releases me once we reach the middle of the field. I look around us. From here, you can see the entire camp space until it's bordered by the stone walls. On the other side, the gym blocks the view of the back. I wanted to turn around to see the buildings behind me, but the snap of fingers in front of my nose dissuades me and brings me back to reality. I refocus my gaze on my supervisor, who is waiting for me.

- You are going to do ten laps of the field.

-  Ten laps of the field? Are you kidding me? I scoff.

-  Hurry up. We'll stay here until you've done them all. Don't even think about leaving; I'll catch you before you make it.

-  That's way too much, ten laps! Do you want my death on your conscience or what?

-  Do you want fifteen maybe? I stay silent. She is capable of increasing the amount if I continue. I head to the edge of the field she indicates, not forgetting to sigh and drag my feet. I can't believe what I'm about to do, but I have no choice. She made it clear that there's no way out. If I start running, there's a good chance she'll catch me in no time if she's a bit enduring. I'm far from being an athlete, and on top of that, she has the home advantage. I don't know the camp well enough to hide somewhere. I could get lost or end up in a dead end by mistake. The worst part of this punishment is that she's watching me from her spot with her arms crossed. As if it wasn't already humiliating enough, she has to supervise me, showing her superiority. I stop after half a lap. I'm completely out of breath. I'm not enduring; it was to be expected. I haven't exercised in at least three years. I try to walk, but even that is difficult.

-  Hey, don't stop, she yells from the middle of the field. I said run, not walk!

-  Let me breathe, damn it! I manage to shout between breaths. This time I stop. I bend forward to rest my hands on my thighs. It's so cold that steam is coming out of my mouth. I thought it couldn't get worse, but I start feeling raindrops. This is hell! I will never get used to Manchester. I'm almost sure it's sunny in Barcelona. Plus, I'm certain she'll make me keep running in the rain. She made it clear we won't move until I'm done. We might be here for a long time given how long I'll take. My breathing is far from normal. My heart is pounding, I have a stitch in my side, and to top it all, I'm sleep-deprived, which doesn't help. When I open my eyes, I see a second pair of combat boots in front of me. A few seconds later, a hand rests on my shoulder.

Straighten up. What now? I manage to say. Can't I even breathe? She places her other hand on my other shoulder. I'm so weak that I don't resist when she pulls me up. Her green eyes are examining me. My condition hasn't improved, and I can't change it. Don't expect better from a former smoker.

- Calm down. Of course you can breathe, but not by bending over. Your body needs to be straight to catch your breath better.

Her hand touches my skin above my chest. It's warm, unlike my body. Her other hand still holds me so I don't literally collapse on her. I close my eyes to enjoy this moment of respite and regain my strength. My supervisor asks me to focus on my breathing and her hand following my body's movements. Then she sets a rhythm of inhaling and exhaling out loud. I focus solely on her voice, and I must admit it's effective. She only lets go once she's sure I'm better.-  Good, now keep running.

-  Can't you see I'm not able to? And it's starting to rain!

-  Of course you can, and it's just a few drops. The cloud is already passing.

-  Please, I barely did half a lap, and I'm completely dead! How do you expect me to do ten? At least lower the number!

-  No, I stick to ten. We have all the time, you have until noon. Stop when you can't go on, and I'll help you. You'll face this sanction more than once from me, so you might as well get used to it now. I grumble to myself at the edge of the field while she returns to her spot. To think I'll have to deal with her in the coming days. I'll die if she orders me to do laps every time. I'm already at the end of my rope now. What will it be like in the end? I sigh before forcing myself to resume running to get this nonsense over with as quickly as possible.

Tuesday, October 6; 12:30 PM - Cafeteria

I'm sprawled out like a pancake on the table. I finished my entire meal. It wasn't very good, but I needed it. My stomach was growling from my punishment and my missed breakfast. At least my supervisor was a bit kind. After my laps around the field, she took me to the cafeteria and got us each a chocolate croissant. I think she felt sorry for my stomach, which was growling loudly after my exercise that ended around nine. We stayed on the field for two hours because of me. I'm exhausted; she completely wore me out. "Are you going to be okay?" Pina asks me. "You don't look well." "Yeah," I mumble into my arms. I lift my head to see that I'm the focus of the table's attention. Do I look so terrible that they have to stare at me like that? I don't need their pity; I hate it. "What?" I snap, more sharply than I intended. "You haven't said anything since we started, and you weren't even in class this morning... It's enough to make anyone worry!" Alexia says. "Where were you this morning, anyway?" I ask. "You weren't in the room when I woke up." "Engen sent me to eat after I told her you were the new girl. She said she'd take care of you; there wasn't much else I could do," she explains. "I'm sorry, but I tried shaking you awake and you wouldn't budge!" I can't blame her. She did her best to wake me up. I sleep heavily, and I'm stubborn when it comes to getting out of bed. If I don't wake up on my own, someone has to jump on me like Joan does, or they have to use the radical method my supervisor employs. I realize that Alexia finally gave me her name. So, she's called Engen? She's a real viper. Speaking of her, she passes by the table right now. I glare at her. I follow her with my eyes as she heads to the line to dispose of her tray. I absolutely have to find a way to get back at her. If I don't, she'll eat me alive, and that's not what I want. I don't want to become a well-behaved student who follows all the rules. That's not me. "Is she one of your supervisors?" Patri asks me. "Yeah, the one on the right," I reply, turning back to the table. "Why?" "Ouch, you hit the jackpot," Leah laughs. "Why?"

"Let's just say she's the worst instructor here. You must have quite a file if Wiegman assigned her to you!" Alba comments.

Her, the worst? She's the youngest employee I've seen so far! Her and her companion. Given what happened this morning, I can believe it. I turn to look at her again. I underestimated her. She's not just some young, insignificant staff member... She's the worst. My mother is certainly behind this. She finishes placing her tray and our eyes meet while she waits for her colleague. Oh, the bitch! She smiles at me! She's mocking me! She must be proud to see me crumpled on the table. If she wants a war, she’ll get one! I let her win one battle, but I won’t let her win the next ones. I turn back to the table. I need to know more about her. I need to know everything, or I'm in big trouble.

"What do you know about her?" I ask.

"Her name is Bronze," Lotte informs me.

"I thought it was Engen? At least, that's who woke me up this morning!"

"No," Alexia laughs. "Engen is the one who accompanies her. She’s in charge of checking the senior floor in the morning. They’re partners, so they’re almost always together."

I try to process this new information. I saw Engen this morning. They share an office for the two of them. It makes more sense now that I know they’re partners.

"If Bronze was assigned as your supervisor, Engen probably called her," Leah says. "Everyone gets an assigned supervisor when they arrive. They’re the only person who takes care of us until we adjust," she explains. "Unless they're not available, which is very rare."

"Let me guess... Bronze is never absent?"

"Very rarely," Patri laughs. "I think it happened once in the three years we've been here."

"Great..." I sigh. "So, you all had a supervisor?"

"When we arrived two and a half years ago, yes," Alba responds. "I had Bright. She’s the second partner who supervises our year along with White."

"I don't know them," I admit.

"It’s our third and final year here, so it’s normal that we know all the rules and people," Lotte says. "You’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"I don’t plan on getting used to it."

"You won’t have a choice with Bronze," Leah chuckles. "I told you we could outwit the instructors, but not the Commander."

"The Commander?" "That's her nickname here," she tells me. "No one can contradict her, not even me." "Well, I'll be the first then."

"Impossible, I’m telling you! Every trick I've found for the others doesn’t work with her! She always... I mean always, has a move ahead of us."

I groan in frustration, letting myself fall back onto the table. Bronze is indeed a demon incarnate. I need to be even more cunning than Leah. It’s very complicated, maybe even impossible.

"Is there anything else I need to know about her, besides the fact that she’s going to make my life a living hell?" I grumble.

"I don't think so," Alba replies. "The instructors don’t talk about their lives. They’re very secretive about it. We don't even know the first names of the new ones."

"Why is that?" "The rules were tightened two years before we arrived." "Okay. So Bronze is the worst?" "The worst of all," Pina confirms. "If we get stuck with her, it’s never a good sign."

So, they’ve figured out that I'm not here for nothing. Fortunately, it’s a taboo topic here. At least I won't be pressured to open up. I like them, but not enough to confide in them when I barely do that with my best friend. I hate my mother, I hate this place. She managed to cut me off from the world. She doesn't understand that I don't want to be anyone's puppet. I just want to be left alone, but that seems like too much to ask. We leave when we’re all done. The stress starts to build as I realize that my first day is approaching. Bronze kept me with her to help with the archiving. I had to go up and down stairs with her, carrying big cardboard boxes. As if the field laps weren’t enough. My legs are jelly because of her. I hope she at least made arrangements with the teachers for this morning. I think she did, but who knows. I sigh as the bell rings. I barely had time to recover from my morning, and now the afternoon is starting. Here’s hoping everything goes well this time.

[droopycoquette]

Sick || Caitlin Clark

Summary: Taking care of sick cc who’s super grumpy she has to miss a game 

Warnings: requested by anon, established relationship, fem!reader, 

Word Count: .7k

|*|

“No, that tastes disgusting,” Caitlin moaned. “I should be there.”

You rolled your eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that night, taking care of a grumpy Caitlin who was sick wasn’t an easy task, even for you. 

“I know,” you sighed. “But the coach said that she’d rather you miss one game instead of an entire season. And you need to take the medicine so you can get on the court faster. Now come on.”

She opened her mouth and allowed you to give her the cough syrup. You smiled at her pout as you walked away towards the kitchen to check on the soup you were attempting to make. Her mother had given you the recipe saying that it worked like a charm. 

“Babe,” she called. “What time does the game start again?” 

“Around 6:00 I think,” you called back. “I don’t know if you should watch it though, it could put more stress on your body and that’s the last thing you need.”

“Yeah right. I’m watching that game,” she said matter-a-factly. 

You sighed and decided it wasn’t worth fighting her over. Leaning against the door frame you took in the sight in front of you. Your six-foot-tall girlfriend laying in your bed with a very defined pout. You could scream. She was so cute. 

“What,” she snapped.

“Hey, no need to be so aggressive,” you laugh. 

“Hmph.”

A timer went off letting you know that the soup was done. 

“Where are you going,” she called to you. 

“The soup is done,” you called back. “Or should be, if I did it right.”

You were so focused on getting the soup off the stove you didn’t notice when she got out of bed and followed you. She was met with a chill at the loss of the blanket but didn’t care, her baby was leaving her alone. 

“It looks good,” you cheered.

You turned around to get a bowl and were met with your girlfriend’s chest. 

“What are you doing,” you scowled. “Get your ass back in bed, now.”

“But-”

“No. No, ‘ifs, ands, or buts.’ Go,” you say pointing to your room. 

The sight that followed made you crack a smile, fighting to hold back laughter. Caitlin slowly trudged back to your rook, her feet barely leaving the ground. 

“I’ll be right back,” you assured her. “If you hurry I’ll give you a kiss.” 

That made her perk up and speed up. 

True to your word when you returned with a bowl of soup you sat it down next to your bed and gave her a kiss on the head. 

“That’s it,” she asked, looking betrayed. 

You grab a chair and scoot it closer to your bed while rolling your eyes. 

“You’re still sick,” you reminded her, smiling slightly. “Now open up.”

She turned her head to the opposite wall with a “hmph.”

“No. I’m not eating that until you kiss me properly,” she said simply. 

“Cait,” you groaned. “You’re making this difficult for no reason.”

“All you have to do is kiss me. That’s it. I’m so sorry that kissing me is so hard right now,” she responded sarcastically. 

You put the soup back on your nightstand and straddled her, facing her head on. Her hands found your hips automatically. 

“If I kiss you, you have to promise to stop being so difficult  and actually listen to me.”

“You drive a hard bargain miss, but I’ll see what I can do,” Caitlin responds with a smirk. 

Your hands come up to cup her face before you leaned in and connected your lips. It was meant to be a quick peck but Caitlin quickly brought her hands to the sides of your head, holding you close to her. Your lips continued to move in sync, like a memorized dance. Your hands moved to her neck making your girlfriend smile. You shifted closer to her, pushing your lips closer causing her to moan. Her hands moved from your head back down to your waist, squeezing slightly. Your breath became hers and hers became yours, and soon your head was becoming light. 

“Was that good enough,” you ask breathlessly, still very close to her. 

She nodded silently, eyes still on your swollen lips. 

“Good,” you say hopping off of her lap. 

She pouted, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, at the loss of contact. You grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. 

“It seems like the game is starting soon. Now, eat the damn soup.”